Without-ness

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This is what I wonder. And I wonder this even though my career was in grief support and I led groups and replied to this very same wondering from so many people who graced my groups.

Will I ever feel engaged in life again? Will I ever find passion for life again? And energy? Will I ever not feel that I am living without him and therefore I just don't really care about life? Will I ever care that I have a future and not cringe from even thinking about that future because what it means is that I have a long life to live without him?

I know, I know, I know, that there is no time frame for grieving. There are so many variables to it for each person. But I'm so exhausted. So very exhausted. Living without him takes every bit of energy I ever thought I had in my body.

In every way I can I've gotten out into the world. I put myself in every situation I can daily, pushing myself to engage with people. I talk about my grief, I join in fun activities, my heart is open to possibilities. But none of it is anything more than an intellectual exercise for me. None of it seems to get into my body and soul. No matter what it is, who it is, I feel detached, an observer.

This is so very different for me, to be this way. I've always been passionate about life, about my life, about new experiences. Since Chuck died, all I feel is pain and grief. Its' been 17 months as of tomorrow and I feel like I'm drifting further and further away from myself and those around me. That part of me isn't visible to most people, I suppose. On the outside it looks like I'm fully functioning. I'm not hiding my grief, necessarily; it's just that you have to get up and function each day, right? And I do. For god's sake, I'm on my 3rd cross-country trek. I've met hundreds of people along the way and talked with them and gotten and given hugs and written about my grief here and other places and sought out new life experiences and welcomed all of them. And with all of it I remain empty inside. The numbness that envelops my insides and my heart is exceeded only by the grief that swings in rhythm with it.

There's no self-pity attached to this. Just plain and simple. The grief snags and shreds its' way through me on a daily basis while I go about life. This isn't my first experience with grief by any means. But it's the most devastating grief I've ever experienced.

Being left behind sucks the big one.


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