Stronger with each tear

There is one more obstacle that I worry about for moving forward.

Surprisingly, it's not so much that some people don't want a better world and will be loudly wrong to prevent it. They are vocal, but they are also the minority; that is becoming clearer. We can work through that, but it is going to take patience and persistence and kindness.

I worry about having those resources available when so many of us are carrying around so much pain.

I wrote the numbers for the death toll yesterday. Those are big numbers, but they are nowhere near the full measure. That doesn't count people with long COVID symptoms. It doesn't count the individual left behind by those who died and their grief. It doesn't count the cumulative weight of all of the fear and pain and isolation that we have been carrying.

I have my own way of understanding this, and I don't have a solution for it.

I have pending grief overshadowing me. I often feel it coming in around the edges. I am not chasing it away, I swear, but also it is not breaking.

That kind of makes sense; there is more grief coming. My mother is alive and safe, but also I do not have a mother, offering maternal care, and there were all the things that hurt along the way. I have felt them, but I haven't really mourned them. There are things that have already been lost, but I can't seem to process those losses while the rest of the loss is pending.

There was a slew of articles maybe two months ago about how people were afraid to stop wearing the masks, even though it should be safe. The reasonable response to them was that hey, the pandemic was not over, and therefore there are many good reasons to continue wearing the mask.

There is emotional healing to be done. I know people who have become more tender-hearted and more aware of the larger issues, and that is great. I also know people who seem to be bordering on hysterics all the time, and there are people who have become much more hostile and resentful.

Personally, I find more difficulty focusing and more worry about being able to complete things. Also, I am positive I am more socially awkward now. I don't know how much of that is the care giving and how much of that is the pandemic, but I know I am not the only one who has lost something.

As true as it is that this is not over, and as hard as it can be to heal before you have established safety, I don't think it is too soon to start picturing healing, and thinking about how we want that to go.

I do not doubt that my posts this week have been messy and jumbled, but there was an order too. 

Monday was about getting out anger.

Tuesday was about looking at the situation, and staying committed to improving it.

Wednesday was kind of about that too, but it was also taking a broader look at what could be.

Finding Meaning: The Sixth Stage of Grief by David Kessler was not the most helpful of the books I've read as I have tried to heal, but there is still a point to it. You may deal with denial, anger, bargaining, and grief on your way to acceptance, but there is also something better than acceptance, and that is finding meaning in it.

For all the people and the time that we have lost, can we build something better upon it?

These tears that I feel hanging over me are going to come, some day. I won't fight them.

I will try and keep learning and growing, so that when they come they will be a part of healing. 

There will be something beautiful about that, even though it hurts.

I wish you well.