“Imagine living with a scream inside you.
And the scream is yours.
And no one else hears it.
That is grief.
Imagine living with a scream inside you—a scream that is yours alone.
It’s loud, it’s piercing, and it reverberates through every part of your being.
And yet, no one else hears it.
Grief can make the world feel so distant.
You might be in the middle of a conversation,
but your mind is elsewhere, caught in that scream.
What does a silent scream even sound like?
What would it sound like if someone else could hear it?
Perhaps it isn’t really a scream but a feeling
with sound, one so raw, so painful, so excruciating
that there are no words to describe it,
so it becomes a sound, a noise, a vibration
that rages through our entire body, screaming,
The scream of grief.”
– Author unknown
I spent most of my day in bed lethargic. The lethargy was actually a welcome relief from the restlessness and agitation that rips apart my insides every day and especially every night. I got a text from my dad thanking me for the various adventures we’ve been on together. It sounded like he was expecting one of us to die soon.
“Dear Zoe,” he wrote. “Thankyou for all the “adventures” you have taken me on ! Thanks for Philip Island, and taking you down there – to run away from the wretched police, and the stupid psychiatrist at Chandler House. Taping my torch on the back of my car, so you could follow in your car … Thanks too for taking me to see Margaret’s place, and her “church”. Thanks for checking out Bendigo, with me, and meeting Dr Julia Bourke… Thanks for “Wet & Wild” … rafting down the Yarra at Warburton. Thanks for inviting me to that place past Sale, where you stayed (with the woman who couldn’t stop talking), where I almost lost her dog, on one of my long walks. Yep, … we have been on some great adventures together ”
I didn’t know if the stress of seeing me suffer for so long, which has led me to isolate, no longer speak and lash out at him, was driving him to suicide. I didn’t know if he senses I am slipping away and may not make it through another year, or even to the end of this year. But tears welled in my eyes when I read that text. Continue reading “Losing things, OCD and more on dissociation”
hsphaven 