I remember hearing in one of my classes that grief never truly leaves. Whatever the loss, it has to be re-grieved at each new milestone in life. For example, if a little boy loses his father, that boy is sad. That boy is sad again when he starts school and he sees other kids with both parents there dropping off their kids and he has just his mom. That boy has to grieve again when he starts playing sports and doesn't have a dad to share it with. This is simplified of course, but during every usual father/son milestone in life, that boy is going to have to re-figure out how to process the loss of his father. It continues on through when he gets married, has kids of his own, etc. It has nothing to do with whining, self-pity, wallowing, being unwilling to let go and move on, or anything else. Those things may be happening too, but it's much more that that base loss will forever effect his perspective on the world. Just like each individual has to figure out how to navigate the world as a male or female, as their particular race, etc., that person will forever have to figure out how to navigate the world as someone who lost his father as a child. He may not consciously think about it much at all, but there will likely be other signs in his life around these milestones that show him that something maybe isn't right.
The other big lesson I got from that class around grief is that grief applies to many things, not just death. Any time we lose something or someone, we grieve it. I have been fortunate that I have had very few people close to me die. But I could give you a laundry list of things I've lost: my happy childhood, my innocence, my chance at a happy family, my feelings of safety and security, my ability to sleep well at night, my ability to trust people, etc. I have done a lot of healing with a lot of these wounds, but still I have to navigate each new obstacle or milestone in my life as someone who never had a stable foundation in life as a child. Sometimes I feel totally crazy and don't know why, and suddenly I realize it's my dad's birthday...or I'll be coming up on some major event and I just can't get excited for it, and I have to accept that some deep down part of me still wishes mom and dad were going to be there to celebrate with me. I know they will never be the parents I want them to be, and I am blessed with an amazing family of choice today, but yet I still miss them like crazy sometimes because I miss what I wanted them to be.
Recently I've been interviewing for an internship at a children's home. I've been beyond excited about the possibility of this position, though a little bit terrified for the interview. I so badly wanted it to go well, and for me the more I want something sometimes the more likely I am to self-sabotage. (Something along the lines of if I don't give it my full effort I can blame my failure on that, but if I give it my all and still fail then I have to question my worth...). I haven't been sleeping well all week...first because the stress about the interview itself was keeping me up (though ironically the night before the interview was the best night of sleep I've had. That must've been a higher power thing because I so needed to be rested!). The night after the interview I couldn't sleep because I kept thinking about how badly I wanted the internship and she'd told me she would let me know soon. I knew it wasn't helping anything, but I couldn't help but think through the possible scenarios of getting it and not getting it, and about just how badly I wanted it. The very next day I found out I got it. You'd think I would've slept like a baby, right? Finally having relief from all the stress and the unknowns? Nope. I was awake a good chunk of the night still in shock that they actually picked me, and just giddy excited about it all.
So that brings us to tonight, and the reason why I brought up grief. Last night I was excited. It has been my passion, focus, and what I've been putting so much work towards to be able to get a job where I can work with kids who have been through what I have. I know that's where I'm meant to be and what I'm meant to do. I "get" tough kids. I connect with them. I see myself in them, and I understand why they do what they do. It's one of the greatest gifts of my crazy childhood. I can understand certain people and certain things a lot better than most. I love that I can use my pain to do something good for the world. But I wonder who I would've been without the pain. I know it does me know good to ponder these unanswerable questions, but who would I have been had I had loving parents? I don't think I'll ever be grateful for the abuse I endured, but I've definitely found aspects of myself and my life today that stem directly from that pain that I am extremely grateful for. But tonight it's just making me sad. As happy as I am for my new internship and this career path I'm so passionate about, I wish it wasn't at the expense of my child self being nearly destroyed. I guess, as happy as I am to be able to relate to these kids that need good people in their lives, sometimes I just wish it wasn't me who related so well. I wish I didn't know their pain. Heck, I wish they didn't know their pain either. I wish no one knew this kind of pain. I wish there weren't so many children (and adults) out there who know what it's like to have the people who are supposed to love you, care for you, and protect you instead hurt you, neglect you, or abandon you. While I'm at it it's the same with friends I've met in adulthood that have helped me so much because they relate. I'm so happy to meet people that can relate, but I care about them and therefore hate that they can relate. I wouldn't wish this shit on anyone.
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I'm grateful for the inner strength and compassion I've been given because of what I survived as a kid. I'm grateful that the world offers me opportunities to use my pain for the greater good, and to not only stop the cycle of violence but actively oppose it.
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