Grief Fog

One day, I took a walk.

I was not alone.

We began our journey in my own backyard.

As we began to enter the woods, confidence was not lacking. After all, I had taken similar journeys before.

Yet, this time, something was different. Although similar to paths I had traveled before, there was an increasing amount of anxiety on this one.

I began to feel lost.

Uncertainty began to grow.

What at first seemed familiar, became increasingly unrecognizable. I began to feel disoriented. I lost sight of my Home. Which way was North, South, East, or West….I did not know. Image result for compass photo

Fear began to take hold.

I began to express my anxiety to those I was with and I know they heard the words I spoke. Yet, it would seem, that they heard not a word.

One even began to joke. As he did, others joined him. The others, at least, meant no ill will. They simply were lured into believing that to ‘make light’ of what I was feeling was best.

Although not alone, I was alone.
Although with others, I began to feel isolated.
Although out in the open, I had fallen into a vacuum…the proverbial rabbit hole.
Although still in motion, I was sinking into quicksand.

Image result for quicksand photo

I could no longer see the forest through the trees.

All the assurances of others became increasingly meaningless. Though their confidence remained constant, mine had with every step gradually vanquished. They knew where they were and felt secure in their footing.

I did not.

I had become progressively bewildered…confused. I no longer knew my way out of the woods. Nothing was recognizable. Though others attempted to point the way as if they had a map and a compass, I had nothing to guide me along the way.

Those I was with became impatient. I was no longer one of them. I was spoiling their enjoyment of their journey. A few attempted to throw me an olive branch to pull me out of the mire into which I had sunk. Those branches became more like vines without any roots that quickly gave way when I grabbed hold.

The day began to grow late and the others became weary.

I had become dead weight, a burden they no longer wished to carry. Some began to scatter, though I kept them in sight. I was lost, they were not. So, I followed their way in hope I would find mine.

Not long after, a few things once again became recognizable. The forest was thinning and rays of light began to flicker through some openings and clearings. The fog slowly, almost hesitantly, began to lift. Moments of hope began to break through.

I knew I was almost home again.

Soon thereafter, I could see glimpses of my home in the distance.

This journey was about to end. The anxiety began to dissipate, though I was never to be the same ‘me’ that had earlier begun this journey.

As the others scattered and moved on to other things, though they were all but one still a part of my life, I was forever changed.

I had arrived home again as if awakening from Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

“Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream”

(((HUGS)))  Jude Gibbs

(excerpt from book: ‘Gifts from the Ashes’)

Image result for midsummer night's dream photo gallery

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Please help spread the word. TY!!! (((HUGS)))


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