This is what The Grief looks Like
This blog was begun under the premise that this is “one woman’s personal tales of life after loss through food, fashion, lifestyle, and travel.” Since then, I’ve posted about plenty of food, a bit of fashion, lots of lifestyle and troves of travel. I haven’t, however, posted much personal.
I don’t think it was neglected consciously but if I’m really digging deep here, which I tend to do, then perhaps it was neglected subconsciously. My personal has been kinda’ tough these days. I talk about life after loss, however, it seems like I haven’t quite reached the after part of the loss. That’s life, right?
I began a prior, less professional, blog back in September of 2013, shortly after my ex-husband and I separated. This blog was extremely personal. I’m an open book for the most part, but I find myself in need of conserving energy these days. Oftentimes, as an open book, I’m faced with situations where I feel the need to defend myself, therefore, expend masses of energy. Our thoughts and communications can sometimes be more exhausting than if we were to run a half marathon.
Keeping it Real in the Midst of Grief
With that being said, I’m going to be honest. I haven’t felt like myself lately. I’ve been completely disconnected from self, as chaos seems to ensue. I haven’t been genuinely happy. There are things and connections I have been searching for that I cannot seem to find. I feel consistently disappointed in some of the people I keep near and dear, some of the people I probably shouldn’t allow myself to exert energy toward.
I know we’ve all been here. Some of us are just more in tune with it. Some of us allow the external to infiltrate the internal. I’m one of those people. I absorb people’s energies, good and bad, stranger and confidante. I’m a bona fide empath.
I think I believe I will find whatever I’ve been searching for during my travels. I think I believe that I’m not even sure what it is I’m looking for, but I’ll know when I find it. Sadly, I also think I might still be looking for someone to fill my mother’s shoes even though I’m well aware not a single soul is or will ever be capable.