It’s Friday. We tend to celebrate the end of the week. We feel that we get a small reprieve from stress, ridiculousness, and head-scratching moments. However, the weekend is fraught with it’s own issues. One being that come Sunday at 6pm we start dreading the next day’s morning ritual. In some sense, come Sunday evening, we grieve just a little bit.
We grieve many things, both large and small. And, we grieve with some frequency. We can grieve the end of our favorite show. We can grieve the loss of innocence. We grieve injustices. We grieve because of someone else’s pain.
Many things end in life. But many more also are born. And, those should be celebrated and recognized.
Categories: Culture, current events, death, identity, mental health, Psychology, society
psychologistmimi 
As a disabled person (ME/CFS bedevils my life – if you know someone with Long-Covid, it’s similar, another post-viral syndrome), there are many griefs, and the biggest one sometimes is the inability to travel much, except for things like the in-person party for our middle child’s wedding reception and celebration (the spouses had a tiny, family only, zoom ceremony a year previously), the only time I’ve been anywhere in years.
I have a double reaction to FB posts about a friend’s hiking vacation: joy in the beautiful pictures, and having to suppress all my reactions to knowing I may NEVER be able to go where they so blithely walk and see any of these amazing landscapes in person. And it’s not just because I’m now old, but because I’ve been chronically ill for almost THIRTY-THREE years now.
And I don’t suppress my reactions for any other reasons than the adrenaline will wipe me out for days, as surely as if I had tried to go in person.
Fortunately, as a novelist, I have a place for angst: the current or future novels. The ability to write has saved me from destruction. When I need an emotional journey for a book, I have something with a similar emotional component – even if the one is epic, and mine is getting the garbage cans to the street. If I can FEEL one, I can make a READER FEEL the other.
But it is additionally exhausting – except that the alternative is to not participate in life AT ALL.
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That ability to write can certainly take one away from grief. It’s so powerful. It’s great that you can tap into that
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Ah Yes Dear Miriam Every Breath
of Life A Potential New Beginning
What We Make
Out Of the Inhale
And Exhale of All We
Do From DarK Thru LiGHT
Goodness i Remember That
Sunday Dread of Monday Work
Goodness i Remember Alarm Clocks
And Stress So Intense my Legs Hurt
on the Way to Work in Dread Every Day i Went
And Now All That’s Left is Gratitude my Orchestra
Symphony to Create
Conduct
And Play
Worshipping
All The Parts
A Moonlit Sonata Comes to Life
For Breaking Dawn to Rise Again
In Every Breath Of Life New Creation Now..:)
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