Patience

I slept for almost 11 hours last night. I still feel tired. I haven’t slept well for most of the last three weeks. It was wonderful to sleep.

I woke up though and wanted to push things away. There was a sense of wishing I could just get on with the chores, not feel anything much. I’m still working through grief. It didn’t go away overnight, even if it seems to be a bit better.

I feel like hiding under blankets. That’s the picture I have in my head—just crawling under blankets and hiding. I suppose I felt that when I was little and Ksymcha died. I just wanted to hide from the world, from having to cope with anything. I wanted to retreat.

The grief for her feels so heavy, and I think a part of me just wishes I could get rid of that heaviness. A part of me really is five years old and believes you can think yourself into feeling okay—not that thoughts don’t affect things, but you can’t just wish grief away. A part of me wishes too that emotions could be like vomit. You can express them maybe and in that way get rid of them. It wishes catharsis were a thing. It isn’t a thing. It’s like white superiority. It’s a lie many people believed for a long time. Feelings have a life of their own. You need to be patient.

I know with the grief comes other things. If I can get the edge off the grief, I get the felt experience of safety, I get the memory of tenderness and warmth.

Patience.

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6 thoughts on “Patience

  1. ridicuryder August 28, 2015 / 9:58 am

    Ash,

    I’ve read your memories of tenderness and warmth, I know they can sharpen the grief… they take the edge off if you exorcise them a bit more. Telling us-your readers helps, but I still think you are this person who “can’t” say anything about her past and is subsequently trapped by it.. Patiently evaluate your environment…I’m pretty sure you could tell someone – if only for the exercise of doing it.

    Mark

    • Ashana M August 28, 2015 / 10:42 am

      Oh, you don’t have the faintest idea where I live…They haven’t seen a train here before, let alone sex trafficking. The degree of explanation involved would be mindboggling. Also, it isn’t a culture where emotions are openly discussed except with very, very close friends.

      • ridicuryder August 28, 2015 / 4:50 pm

        We’ve had this discussion a few times…I knew you’d say this. I’m going to suggest this once a season or so. 🙂

      • Ashana M August 28, 2015 / 5:52 pm

        Ok. I will just copy-paste the answer. You have not been here. You really do not have a clue how isolated it is or how little they know about the outside world. Someone told me in all seriousness she knew in our culture we don’t talk at mealtimes.

      • Ashana M August 28, 2015 / 6:27 pm

        Probably I should say it’s also a village, dominated by village gossip. There are few people I can tell things to without telling them to 100 people.

  2. ridicuryder August 29, 2015 / 8:58 am

    Okay…I’ve used up my summer pitch.

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