2023. Done and Dusted.

What makes me refrain from posting more often? Lack of thoughts? No chance of that happening. The voices in my head can vouch for that. In fact regurgitating what's brewing in my brain might actually lighten the load. But it isn't easy, is it? 

I've asked myself this question so many times in the past and I keep going back to it every few months. A theme-less blogspace, which is pretty much just a storehouse of my personal musings. Thoughts and opinions that don't create a shadow of a dent in anyone's life. So they should probably live between the pages of a personal diary. Well, that's what logic tells me anyway. So then why do I keep coming back? 

The cold truth?- the need to feel seen. Heard. Felt. 

The purpose of any kind of  creative expression is the innate need for us as a people to feel seen and heard. What is the point of storing your emotions in a diary, only for it to be discovered long after you are gone (when it might be tossed into the bin anyway). 

I might as well be brave enough to push my way through the clutter of opinions that already exists in this world. Push, shove, jostle and settle into a sweet spot for myself.  To engage with others and revel in the joy of knowing that I'm not alone. 

Yes, to know you are not alone is a great leveler. The ego is knocked off its high horse and forced to cower into recognizing that most of us are in fact, ordinary. 

And being ordinary isn't a crime. It is comfortable for sure. But perhaps recognizing this, makes a person stand out, if not become something extra-ordinary. 

So why do I feel the need to express today? After all this time? Because this year has been tough. Correction, it still is. 

I've been thinking a lot about grief. Does it exist in all its endless thick dark cloud of suffocating sadness as a whole? Or are there levels to pass through? 

Can a person claim to feel more grief than another because of situations and circumstances, even if your body reacts to it the same way? And what if grief chokes you so hard from within, you arent able to express yourself even though it has spread all over your existence like a bad case of eczema. Would the lack of expression disqualify you from being a griever? 

I feel the loss of something that didn't even exist. And as shattered as it made me feel, I was also slightly relieved at feeling free at last. Guilt, suffocation, loss, anger, numbness, relief, a feeling of being crushed, are the unwanted gatecrashers at a party you didnt plan for yourself. So now you have no option but to put up with them and wait for the time when they will be bored enough to leave. 

You try to tire them out. You ignore engaging with them. You don't let them get a word in. You talk over them and laugh out loud, hoping it will drown out their voice. But the brats just claw you more, don't they? 

I've felt it all this year. My mind is done. But not my heart and body. They are still seeking a closure that will probably never arrive. I've mourned over something I didn't even have. And i've done it by myself. Because it's easier than having to explain the havoc these emotions play inside you. 

I'm proud of the person I've been this year. She feels like a another being raging inside me. One who needs an extra long hug. And she has intruded upon every conversation and interaction i've had this year. She has tugged at me each time i've laughed and punished me for doing so by looming over the thoughts for the next few hours. I'm spent. But i also know I'm strong enough to ride the tide.

And through it all, here's what I have learnt-

1. Grief has no barometer. 

2. Grief has no comparison. 

3. Grief exists. It is an all-encompassing feeling that clouds your body, your home, your perspectives, your life. 

4. The only way to counter grief, is to surrender to it. To swim and float and tumble about in it. With a life jacket of course- a lung full of laughter, a day full of tasks, friends who allow you forget and partners who don't tell you to 'get over it'. I've been blessed to have it all. 

5. Grief is also a great friend. It helps you recognise people who lift you up and acquaints you with your inner reserves of strength. And i'm surprised to find that i have plenty of both. 

2023. I'm so done with you. Cannot wait to turn the page of the calendar. I truly wish I could delete the year gone by.  You were the backstabbing friend I had invited with warmth and open arms. Now, I cannot wait to show you the door.