I will not be ridiculed for my grief process, and the length it is taking. I am writing this so you who are reading will not be either. As far as I have been going, I was trying to hit and go. But not all parties are willing. And cannot see anything but the story they tell themselves about me.
To Grieve for something lost is to express in physical form a connection and a value to someone or something. Could be a person or a experience, etc… But one must mourn until one can mourn no more. And Mourning has many faces, and stages.
I have been traveling through a lot of stages. And I have experiences some loss, besides the loss of my Birthmother. So grieving is a process I know well, and have come to see that it is in fact my teacher. It is in fact what has made me feel so deeply. It has in fact given me my humanity. I was put into a situation wear I grew up loving non family member. Now, that may not seem ostentatious, but it is. For when you grow up being placed into a family not of your DNA, it changes you. You are not like others and you look at the world through a different lens. Because of your scare like Harry Potter that is on your heart, you can smell pain. And you have an ability to feel others.
I don’t hate anyone about my grief, it’s what was important to me, and still is. Connection is important, and acceptance. And I accept that I cannot get loose of this. And just because you don’t cry or allow yourself to cry and be authentic, don’t Bach at someone who is trying to be real. I will not be spoken to like a 3 year old. I am 52, and I know exactly how I feel about it. And I am going to express that. And if you get all lit up, well that is your shit too. I came directly to you to deal with it. Now you can sit and watch as I deal with here. At least I can admit my shit is here, you, you, are hiding from yours.
My grief started at age 2 days, and has traveled as my window from which I have looked through. Ever mindful of the chances of loss, to well for such a young age. But yet I did feel it, not everyday. But it would come and go.
And if you click on the link below: You can see the five stages. My Mom is caught up in the Angry stage. It’s getting in the way.