I am suffering from bereavement. It’s been a few months, but most days I still feel like I can’t stand it.
It feels like it’s floating, separated from other everyday life, and without anyone who has lost it, they don’t know how to return to normal. Can you tell us some perspectives?
Eleanor says: For finite creatures-definitely experiencing loss and then being lost-we do a very good job of isolating ourselves in that experience. We do a very good job of leaving each other alone, one thing that really connects us.
I know the weird unplugged feel you describe very well. Mute all sounds; the sensation of walking in an anesthetized dream. The disobedience of the fact that the garbage truck still beeps and the dog is walking in the park, as if you could expect to perceive-of course back- A world that never stops. It’s especially serious at your current moment, months later, when people stop asking you how to do it and you may feel the pressure to “go ahead”.
But you already know that there is no place where you are not hurt by the sadness to move on To. That’s why the pain when it hits is so terrible. We know it’s about something permanent. There is no future in which our loved ones live. So we suffer from the pain of a wave because of the fact that they are gone and that they will never be gone.
Enough to drown.
When I’m drowning, I get some comfort from knowing that almost everyone else is underwater. Some need to be underwater with us now, double-take the streets when they think they’ve seen their person, and suddenly turn off music they never thought they would move ..
The pain is not completely gone. Much of our daily lives are built on painless promises, so you may never feel part of it completely again.
But you never come to mind. This painful sharpness can be a reality in itself. It’s a way to associate dogs and street sounds in the park, and the people around you, as gifts that wink as soon as you’re here for a while. It’s here for just a moment. It’s amazing that we can be here together.
Everyone from CS Lewis to the Queen said that sadness is the price we pay for love. It is the tragedy of the universe that we cannot have that love forever, but another, more fragile, More vivid joy Among those who know it will be gone all day long. The tragedy never really leaves you. But that joy moves beside it. One day the loss will be fresh as if it happened yesterdayBut someday you will find yourself laughing.
Your terrible pain is not the opposite of life, nor is it a sign that you are dead. That’s what happens when you look at life about what it is: It’s a gift And that’s it.
I wish you good luck throughout your days. I, and millions of us, are with you and are thrown back and forth into the tragedy and luck we can spend days.
Are there any conflicts, crossroads, or dilemmas that need help? Eleanor Gordon-Smith helps you think about life questions and puzzles, big and small. Questions can be anonymous.
I am suffering bereavement and feel cut off from normal life. Can you give me perspective? | Leading questions | Life and style Source link I am suffering bereavement and feel cut off from normal life. Can you give me perspective? | Leading questions | Life and style