PART 1 here

Monday my grandson’s dad will be gone exactly one year. Just typing that one sentence makes my eyes well up with tears. It feels almost hard to breathe thinking about it. Mostly because I worry about my daughter in the now, and my grandson in the future.

I often talk about how I bury myself with an impossible amount of tasks and run myself ragged just to avoid facing grief and the anniversaries of trauma.

But the funny thing about grief and PTSD is that it doesn’t give a damn how deep you bury yourself, it will still find you.

It always finds you.

When I wrote part one back in December, I didn’t realize that dredging through the rottenness at the bottom of the cup would translate so literally into me sorting through my own mind the way I have been lately.

In a way, it does feel like an awakening for me. But maybe not as much of a spiritual one and more of an earthly one.

Grief and regret is a part of who I am.

And I’ll be honest and say that will never leave me. No amount of meditation or connecting to higher self will ever dig that rooted seed out of me. And I think I’m okay with that.

Instead of exhausting myself trying to look for a way past it, I recognize that it’s part of my journey.

It serves a reminder for me. Because I believe, with all that is in me, that we all grieve and regret just as deeply as we love. I’m proud of how much and how hard I love my people. And I carry that pride in the way I grieve them.

———-

I decided to make use of my old iPad to better sort and make sense of my sleep seer visions. For now, I’m helping a few friends with questions they have. This approach seems to make my “mind tv” work a bit more efficiently during meditation. I can retain this drawing and view it on the tv while monkey and I still and quiet ourselves to hear the story.

January still sucks. It always will. And even if I couldn’t help my grandson’s father, or Ollie, just maybe I can help others make sense of their lives. Even if it’s just a little bit.