7 songs have played on my "Sonzee blogging" playlist. I have written words and erased the majority of them. The tears, they want to come, but I keep holding them back for some reason. I know I shouldn't. Deep down I know it's the reason I have experienced two panic attacks within the last two weeks. The ones that wake you from your sleep and bring on a headache that feels like someone is squeezing your head with a very tiny rubber band. The ones that take at least 24-48 hours to fully recover from, despite attempting to will the cortisol levels in your body to readjust themselves. Yet despite those best efforts, what's more likely to happen is for the levels to rise again because something (simple) happened that you weren't expecting, like someone speaking when you have your back turned.
It really never goes away. Or maybe it takes longer than 2 years 5 months and 21 days? The whole learning to live with it concept is quite honestly horrible, and my ability with it fluctuates. I (naively) thought that maybe I was getting ahold of it. I thought maybe with life moving forward, maybe with the time passing, maybe with parts seeming normal that I was starting to "learn to live with it". But then it feels like utter chaos as I try to combat the feeling of being completely mentally unstable. One minute I can feel like I have this whole learning to live with grief concept mastered and the next I am taken out at my knees. I want to imagine that the pit in my chest and the tears in my eyes will one day permanently pause if I was actually accomplishing any ability to learn to live with it. Maybe "learning to live with it" is simply acknowledging its always-ever presence? Maybe accepting the pit and the tears are what I need to do to learn?
I'd rather not.
12 songs have played. I'll allow the tears...for now. I will admit this journey is complicated, that there isn't a one size fits all. Maybe what I have learned in 2 years is that grief is hard to live with. I will give myself grace while I sit outside and let the wind wrap itself around me, pretending it is her coming to give me a hug because G-d knows I could surely use one of those from her.