(Written one night while wrestling with the anger that finds its way into the process of grief, either on its own or provoked by something someone said. Shared in an effort to help others better understand the grieving soul.)
Cut me some slack.
Don’t take it personally if I turn down your invitation to dinner or if I don’t seem enthused by your offer to spend the day together. Forgive me if I don’t return your phone call for a few days — okay, weeks.
I’m not breaking up with you.
I’m suffering with grief.
No, I’m not curled up in the fetal position, wiping away tears with the same tissue that I just used to blow my nose … or maybe I am. I’m not wallowing in self-pity either, at least not every day.
I’m just learning to live with loss, and that takes time.
So, excuse me from my usual interest in your life. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. In fact, I think of you often. I’ve just had to narrow my world considerably, increase my margins, choose more carefully how and with whom I spend my time.
Those who are compelled to rescue others, please don’t go all co-dependent on me. Sure, I may be a little depressed from time to time, but no more than the average person visited by grief.
If it helps to understand, I am in full introvert mode. It drains me more than ever to be interacting with people. I require more solitude these days, so don’t expect too much from me.
Give me your patience. Be okay with the space between us.
Those of you prone to worry and drama, resist the urge to let your imagination run wild picturing me on a ledge looking down. After all, I live in a one-story home!
I’ll call for help if I need it. I promise.
I haven’t lost my faith, either. I still have hope. So don’t waste your time preaching to me about focusing on my many blessings or how grateful I should be that Paul is in heaven with Jesus. You mean well, I know, but it doesn’t sit well with me. Not now.
The truth is, you can’t shorten my time of grief. I won’t let you. This is a very personal walk that I must make on my own, in my own way and time.
If you want to help, cut me some slack and have faith that this, too, shall pass.
I’ll come around at some point.
Trust me. I will.