Deep Dark Hole of Grief

 January 16, 2021

It's like you've been dropped in a deep, dark hole. Nothingness surrounds you. You see the light at the top, but you feel too heavy to stand to your feet, let alone try to get out.

After a while, you get comfortable there. You start to feel like you are in a safe place. The nothingness begins to comfort you. Now the numb feels nice. It feels weightless. It feels like a place you can escape to.

Before you know it, it swallows you up. Now you feel nothing. You don't care if you never leave the hole. You're not sure if anything could actually entice you to leave it. You doubt anyone even notices that you are down there. You see them pass by, their shadows cast over you from time to time, but no one looks down. They are all so busy trying to avoid the hole that they never look down to see if anyone is there. Of course, if they did look down, would you even notice. If they dropped down a rope or ladder would see it? Would you feel it? Would you even want to acknowledge it?

No, for a ladder or rope would not pull you out of the dark. You need light. You need to feel again. You need a warm embrace. Someone who not only lets down the ladder, but who is also brave enough to climb down into the dark and sit with you. One who is willing to sit with you silently. Willing to sit with you in the nothingness until you are ready to leave the dark and walk into the light again. One who can tell you that the light is beautiful and you are allowed to enjoy it once again. No, it won't ever be the same, it will be a new normal, but it will also be worth it. One who can take your hand, lending you a little of their strength to help you stand again, and then willing to follow you behind the ladder lest you fall. And even if you decide you aren't ready yet, he's willing to let you back down the ladder and into the darkness again, and again he sits by your side waiting and speaking words of encouragement, not judgement, for he understands. He knows what it is to grieve and he knows that you can't rush it. But he also knows that one day you'll be ready to walk into the light again, so he waits with you. He watches your journey with pride over every little step you take closer to that light.

~ Lizzie