Drowning

The grief? It’s like drowning. Or like I imagine drowning must be like. Dragged down, gasping for air, treading the water that is too powerful to fight. I’ve been swimming against this current for three years... four if you count when Sean got sick. Sometimes I think it would be easier to give into the water. What would it be like to let the grief fill my lungs and go with it-go somewhere without the constant pain, the overwhelming loneliness the void that fills every part of my being? Would finally giving into it put my grief to rest? Maybe fighting it is what makes it so overwhelmingly difficult. I’m so so tired...I want to stop treading. I want to crawl in the lifeboat and have someone else steer for a bit. To not have to think, to go through a day without the heavy wet cloak of grief laying on my shoulders. To not wake up to another day I must get through. When did life become surviving one day to the next? The joy so brief and fleeting it slips through my fingers like water. I’m unable to grasp it. I want to. I want to hold some happiness tight in my fist. To have its warmth fill my being. Somewhere far away in my soul is the memory of contentment. The memory of a carefree day without grief and loneliness. It’s that memory that keeps me going. It’s the hope of having that feeling again. Hope and my children are sustaining me until I am no longer somebody I used to know.

Reviews

[Ksummera]

Great piece, reminded me of my writing