Growth and Grieving
This past year has brought so many changes. I know I have grown in many ways as a friend, a sister, and a person. As one grows, one sheds old skins; one changes who they are and how the present themselves to the world.
Over the past several months, I have grown for the better. I have shed myself of unhealthy and unhelpful habits. I have learned to prioritize my happiness over creating undue stress for something which may not matter in a few years.
Though the habits have brought me success in the past, I know these habits are unsustainable and can only inhibit me from knowing what will bring me peace. I am excited over my new growth but I will still miss the things about myself which had brought me the opportunities which I benefit from now.
New growth is as painful as those unhealthy habits. One must rearrange who they are internally and externally. I find myself on the other side of this growth, but the process itself is brutal.
Below is a window into the painful journey on which I embarked, saved until I basked in the warmth at the end of my hard work. I grieve these losses while I rejoice in my new self.
This letter is addressed to grief, inhibiting me from enjoying the little moments of peace. Though now I know grief had only given me growth for the better.
Dear Grief,
Why are my efforts not good enough for you? Why do you continue to negotiate back-and-forth “searching in vain for a way out” when the obvious solution lies in front of you?
The only way forward is to never look behind, lest we end up together the wife of Lot. Nor will we stay and be left behind, as daughters, to be sacrificed to the sinful practices of the all consuming greed. The lack of suffering, nor remorse; time wasted for reflection of these actions.
How do you not see the obvious solutions which stand right in front of you? The arrows of joy and relief which are lined with the lights of heaven and advertise: “Healthy Body, Here! In exchange for your pride!!”
Why must the intrusive thoughts which strike down the goodness in me constantly live through fleeting moments of peace? Why is a life of peace so foreign? Why must you, grief, join in the darkest demons who lurk in shadows of self-doubt to sabotage the light in which I find myself now.
Light and lightness which float freely away from the compounded harshness of self-destruction. Can we not move on and shift ourselves to self-love?
Let me know what you decide,
Jojo
