As I’m going about my day and finally actually doing the things I’ve been meaning to for days I can’t help but think how much easier it would have been to deal with things when they happened in life. Rather than take months and months to just even face them in the first place. Now, 8 months on and I’m finally getting round to doing the things everyone was urging me to do back then, and then some.
So why was it so hard to do then? Why was I so stubborn that I had to figure it out and reach that conclusion and clarity for myself?
Inevitably the mess has grown and there are now more aspects of my life that are challenged by this prolonged hiatus. Oh the joys.
Around July last year I should have been graduating, my second attempt at second year had been, on the whole, a success and the third started on a high but slowly everything began to unravel. I lost sight of where I was going, who I was doing it for, and more importantly, who I was. I knew that what had started as a small snowball in my hand had by this point encapsulated me and was barrelling along down the mountain, gathering more and more snow as it went. I knew if I reached out I could grab hold of something and stop the effect, that I could claw my way back and the snow would slowly thaw. But I was set to self-destruct, I knew where it was heading and I carried on regardless.
By the time the results were posted I knew they weren’t good, seeing them just confirmed what I’d seen coming for months. By this point I was at a loss, not with the situation but with myself. I knew this was far more than bad grades. Some of them were actually very good grades lost in a sea of let’s just say not so good grades! I knew that this was more than just going back and doing it over. That wouldn’t fix anything. Just like leaving my job to go back to university 2 years earlier didn’t fix it. This was something within me that I had to face. Grief.
Grief and mourning are such personal experiences as unique to each person as snow flakes. So when you are faced with it, you don’t know what to expect and you can lull yourself into a false sense of security thinking that well I’ve been sad, I’ve been angry, I’ve come to see that this is now my reality. That’s it! You’ve gone through those initial phases and you’re all better and ready to face the world again. I’m chuckling as I write this at just how ludicrous that sounds.
Finally though, I know I’m in a better place. I’ve sat with my grief and I’ve learnt how to know when to let it in and when to push through. I have sat with it long enough to heal what has been triggered thus far, and I know to sit with it when I’m triggered in the future. Because this is a journey I will be on for the rest of my life, no matter how long it takes and how messy it gets. And that’s okay.