A large part of my trauma has been grief. It has opened a floodgate for all the grief in my life. Grief for what has been, for what is but isn’t, and for what will never be. Grief reminds me of the children’s game, ‘Going on a Bear Hunt’. You can’t go over it; you can’t go around it; you can’t go under it; you must go through it.
Having hope, for me, has only led to more shattered dreams so rather than go there I am just holding space for what is on the other side. I will let you know what is there when I get to it.
Here is a little poem that I made up:
The eyes that are wet,
The shoulders that are cold,
The arms that are empty,
The soul that is longing,
The heart that is broken.