Good Grief 2/3

I’m not Happy. That phrase. I’m not Happy. That’s what changed my life. Only sadly it wasn’t me saying it. It was A.

My world bottomed out then. I went into free fall. Our beak-up was horrendous and protracted.

It broke me up, for lots of reasons, obviously, the main one being; for me to look like a ‘success’ in the grief stakes, I needed my handsome, kind and loyal Boyfriend to be just that. I needed him to hold my hand, I needed him to hold my hand so hard; white knuckle to white knuckle.

We’re not educated on how to grieve. We are not educated on how to deal with other people’s grief. Or lack there of. If we are ‘lucky’ we observe grief and then cobble together our understanding from that.

We can watch it in movies; but grief is a long process, so it’s normally a montage, with good music and a happy ending.

We should be taught to grieve correctly or at least taught what not to do. There should be books without Lilies or Doves or Bible verses on the front. It shouldn’t be such a taboo anymore.

It’s taboo because there’s no quick fix, it’s frustrating and It’s hard and people cry. Everyone shies away from trying to fix what’s hard. Grief is Hard. It also shatters into a million subsections.

It’s also taboo because a lot of the feelings you are having are possibly not the feelings you feel you ‘ought’ to be having. Guilt plays a huge part in Bad Grief. Guilt for being happy, sad, mad, totally fine, all or none of every emotion ever felt. Guilt for what you said, what you should of said, what you did or did not do. Guilt is the true thief of Good Grief.

A manual on grief, just like a manual on Chemo, would be a nigh on impossible task. There’s no one size fits all. So instead, after an initial period, grief is ‘better’ for everyone if it’s behind closed doors. Only it’s not. Grief can only be Good Grief, out in the sunshine with the fresh air and with Company.

The point when everyone expects you to be ‘over’ grief – I’d say approx. 6 months after a bereavement, is probably the point when you need people not to think that. That’s through education.

Sharing how it feels to lose – not trite lessons on time but the actually the bones of it. The everyday, mundane, dull, dull, dullness of it. The normal-ness of it. If everyone shares, more people will recognise what will or will not work for them. That’s through education.

I’ve been watching grown men grieve over football all week, crying on huge screens, beamed across the World. A grief so honest and simple, it  astounds me.

All grief should be allowed to be so pure. You’re feeling it, then it’s ok to be feeling it. It really should be that simple.

But perhaps feeling anything at all, allowing your self to feel anything at all, is a battle all it’s own.