No one told me about the inescapable, overwhelming exhaustion…
emergency naps lasting for hours…
involuntary yawns reaching deep without warning…
brain fog making accessing ordinary words difficult.
I knew about the contentment upon waking lasting for mere seconds…
playfully enticing me into happiness…
until the realization of profound loss slices through my ignorant bliss.
Surely, this too must pass…
“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.”
