It's been awhile....
I've hit a turning point in my grief journey. According to common belief and studies, one of the first majour peaks in your grief journey is your six month anniversary of losing a loved one. June marked six months since Bernard's passing, and it has been the most emotionally draining, tiring and probably hardest months on a much deeper and complex level.
As I approached the 6th June, I wasn't sure what to expect. Was I going to feel as though I was still living between two worlds - a surreal world and a real world? Was it going to be the end of my grieving journey? Was I going to experience something new I hadn't experienced before? I've had to accept that I can't plan these things and what the day will hold emotionally - which is hard for a Type A personality. I've learnt that some things in life I just have to learn to ride the wave and be kind to myself along the way. Work had been extremely stressful leading up to this time, sapping a lot of my energy. I felt I was slowly starting to neglect my grieving journey as I didn't have time for it anymore. This worried me as it was one thing I had promised myself at the beginning, that I would make sure I processed this, and dealt with it so it didn't affect me later on in life negatively. And so I stepped away from work for a awhile. To be still again. To reconnect with where I was at again, and continue to grieve, which I knew I needed to still do. On the Monday morning of that week - 6 months since Bernard had been gone, I felt quite sad as I thought about my darling husband, reminiscing on our time together. How we met, our relationship, the love we shared, the hard times during COVID-19, the stress, the arguments and finally how it all ended. I had built up quite an expectation for myself to do something on that day to remember him by, to honour him by - but I just couldn't quite think what. So I got up and took myself for breakfast to one of our favourite spots on the beach. I watched the ocean and stared into the distance at Table Mountain. I wished so badly that Bernard could be there with me in some way. As crazy as it may sound, a seagull landed on the banister next to me and sat there the entire time I was having breakfast. Whether it be coincidence, or a small sign from above, it's a moment I choose to remember and smile about.
Being still and reconnecting with my grieving journey to process the milestone I was facing, my heart ached and for the first time, I found I was starting to fully accept that he was gone. It was a huge #turningpoint for me. It hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt sick to my stomach. It seemed like the penny had dropped all of a sudden and reality was the realest it's ever been. All these little boxes that I wasn't able to "tick off" yet, like finding a note somewhere amongst his things to provide me with an explanation or say goodbye, fixing the problem he was facing that seemed unsurmountable, speaking to him, saving him, all these things that I still so desperately wanted to complete on my checklist, will never be possible. Reaching this #turningpoint and working through it over the last few months has been very heavy on my heart.
No one really prepares you or tells you about this peak in your grieving journey and how intense it can be, but how could they? They're not walking in your shoes. The last few months have been a completely new level of grieving for me. Deeper, more complex, heavy. Reflecting back, at the start I was probably operating purely on adrenaline, trying to understand and slowly navigate what had just taken place in my life. It was real, but also not real in a way. The absence of little things such as having that someone to share a home with, the special messages or calls to check in and say hi, the I love you's; told me he was gone, but my heart wasn't quite there yet to acknowledge or accept it all. I then felt as though I was slowly getting back on track and settling into what was now my new life. That I was going to be okay, things were going to be fine. I even at one point wondered if I was done grieving. But as I hit the six month milestone, there was this massive #turningpoint. It seemed to all fall into place, my head and my heart were aligning and had reached the same place and boy did it hit me like a brick wall. My husband was really gone. I will never get to speak to him again, see him again, hold him again. I have felt emotionally drained, exhausted, sad on a very different level than before. I have had days where I struggle to get up and get going in the morning. The feeling of not wanting to or having the energy to face yet another day again of feeling this loss and the emotions that come with it. I have struggled to keep up at work at times as I'm usually able to. I haven't always been able to engage or respond to messages from family and friends. Making a cup of tea seemed like an enormous task, let alone doing household chores, paying bills and looking after myself. As stupid as that all sounds, it's exactly how I have felt. I had nothing left in me and I felt like every
ounce of energy had been sapped from my body. I was running on nothing.
People often forget that you are probably still dealing with the trauma and overwhelming loss months down the line. It's only around this time, that you are starting to accept the full reality of everything. People, by no fault of their own, think that this far in, you are starting to operate and feel normal again. For me, the complexity and heaviness of grieving on top of a demanding job, the stress of battling with the Courts and Home Affairs to start tying up my husband's estate, and everything in between - has left me almost at burn out point. All of this came to a head at the end of July when I landed up in hospital as I thought I was experiencing a small heart attack (lol). I had lost perspective over these last few months, the stress and emotional trauma all seemed too much. I had dropped my eyes from Jesus for a bit, and so as I was driving home from meeting a friend for coffee, I started experiencing a dull ache down my left arm, my chest closed tight and I was battling to breathe. Thankful for my wonderful brother, who drove me to the ER where they did routine checks and admitted me. I saw a cardiologist the next morning and he, too, completed more thorough checks, sat down with me and told me I had a broken heart (emotionally), more commonly known as Broken Heart Syndrome. Medically I was fine, but emotionally not so much. Broken Heart Syndrome can be brought on by stressful situations and extreme emotions (more detail in the link above). And so in this moment, exhausted and at the end of my rope.... I realized that I needed to run back to the Father again, fix my eyes on Him. Isiah 40: 29 - 31 reminds me that "He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will new their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." I needed to slow down and understand that I can't do it all myself. I needed to be still and remind myself that He is God. He is in control and will always look after His children.
This #turningpoint in my journey is almost like a double edged sword. It has been incredibly hard. It is as real as it's ever been and this has weighed very heavy on my heart. Grieving is not an easy road by any means and it is incredibly complex to navigate. So many thoughts to process and feelings to work through, almost on a daily basis. The biggest rollercoaster ride I've ever been on, and I didn't pay for the ticket! On the other hand, this #turningpoint shows that I am continuing to move forward through my grieving journey and towards healing. It shows that I am accepting what has happened and no longer in a denial phase.
I know that God hasn't left me in this time. He continues to watch over me, take my hand and lead me through my valley. I know that He loves me fiercely. He fights for me when I am too weak and is my strength always. He is so gracious. Being emotionally
vulnerable and tired, I have messed up along the way. Yet I know He has forgiven me already and still continues to choose me every single day, hour, minute, second. He is such a good, good Father.
And so I push on, with God my side.
Forever and always babe, I will love you xxx
∞💓