What my grief would say if it could talk

Hi, I’m Grief.

It’s nice to meet you.

I can f*ck off, it’s not nice to meet me…?

Well be like that then.

Oh, ok, I know no one ever welcomes my arrival. As if losing your loved one isn’t enough torment, as if living without the person you loved so dearly isn’t quite bad enough, I come along and make sure your life is well and truly screwed up.

You cannot see me, smell me, touch me, or hear me, but I will crawl in to your body, make my presence known from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

I will flow with the blood through your veins, seep through every pore.

I am a dense fog that lingers in front of your eyes, makes you feel drugged, exhausts you with the effort of carrying me around, makes you wonder who you are. Everything you do from now on until your own dying breath will be tarnished by me.

Don’t try and turn your back on me. Try as you might, you cannot ignore me. If you ignore me, I will make you sorry. I will make it hurt more by scratching into your bones, leaving deep scars.

There will be days when you think you are rid of me – you will feel like the weight, me – yep, I’m pretty heavy – has been lifted from your shoulders. You’ll feel happier, like your life is moving forwards again. I’ll let you think that for a few days, and then – BAM! – when you least expect it I’ll come back, even heavier.


What do you mean, it’s not funny! Didn’t you like my little dance?
What, I can take my dance and f*ck off and stick it where?

Being Grief isn’t much fun, you know. I have to get my kicks from somewhere. My kicks come from tormenting you and messing with your head. Yep, I’m evil.

Ok, I can see you are a feisty one, so I’ll give you some tips.

You can read all the books you like about me, but I am your grief, and yours alone.

You know what happens when you ignore me. Not nice, is it? So try to understand me, spend time getting to know me. I’m not saying that time will be pleasant – it won’t be at all, because I’m an evil bastard. But you know that saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”? Yep.

Nurture me, humour me sometimes. Talk to me! I know we’ll never be friends, but in time perhaps we can tolerate each other. I mean, you learn to tolerate me. I’m not going anywhere.

Don’t forget though, you’ll never completely learn my ways. I’ll always be around to trip you up, mess with your head, turn your life upside down all over again.

I am malign, venomous, malevolent. Never forget it.

I am Grief.

0 comment on What my grief would say if it could talk

  1. Mummy Writes
    December 14, 2014 at 3:28 pm (6 years ago)

    Reblogged this on Chasing dragonflies and commented:
    Grief has become both my friend and my foe since Abi died… I need it to feel close to her, yet loathe it for taking over me. What would your grief say?


2Pingbacks & Trackbacks on What my grief would say if it could talk

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