Grief is a real Beach. The waves are inevitable. Don't let anybody tell you how to walk it

Wrote this with ColdTurkey in mind, but it's for anybody who's walked the beach of grief. If you have, I'm sorry. It's no fun, but you don't walk alone, even if it feels like it. If you haven't, count yourself lucky. You will one day, or others will walk it for you. Oosh meleen aga. Peace on your journey

People will offer their platitudes, but let me be real with you. They are mostly bullshite. Grief is just a real beach.

It's a beach you're gonna walk every day. And you know what? It's never going to be comfortable. Because the waves never really quit coming. The ground beneath your feet is full of sharp edges. Hell, it's damn painful to walk on, if we are being honest.
And the sand? Well the waves keep coming and constantly shift it. Unearthing new sharp edges. Sending you stumbling and uncertain. It's gonna hurt.

And sometimes you welcome the pain. Because at least that means you still feel. You still bleed and the tide comes in and out and all you can do is breathe and bleed as the pain mingles with the waves and takes it out to sea. And the salt stings sure but...frick it, whatever.

But the thing about walking on grief, this beach...your feet develop callouses.
And those things that cut deep and made you bleed and weep months ago...well, they still hurt, sure. But you get used to it. Your feet get, well, calloused. Like a guitarist playing the same song over and over. Eventually, you don't bleed anymore.

And the waves, they still come regularly, but you've...well you've got your "sea legs" in a sense. Your "grief legs".

I was laughing earlier. I'm c'Ryan now. You learn how to deal. Ups and downs and all that. You adapt.

You know the path you trod is fraught with sharp edges, and you know the waves will come, and you just learn to...deal. Your feet get more calloused and surer, and you know how the waves will shift the sand. So it makes the walks easier.

Hell, you'll get to a point you can run on grief beach. You can run and the waves barely bother you and your feet are so calloused you don't even feel the edges that once cut so deep anymore. That's time. That's growth. That's the result of A LONG WALK.

And then one day you are gonna be running on that beach, and all of a sudden, you're down and you're slashed and you're bleeding and you're weeping and all you can think is "WHAT THE HELL!?"

Maybe it's a storm coming, or came, and the waves are higher than normal, unearthing unseen hazards.
Maybe you just stepped in a soft spot you didn't even know was there, and all of a sudden you are bleeding and weeping from the pain.

THAT'S OKAY!

Grief's a beach. Unpredictable.

For me, it was tonight. Oh look it's 3:33. This morning I guess. Writing a song about an experience I never really shared with my younger brothers, but knew was important to them.
And then realized I was trying to connect with my brother.
And I was missing a bridge.

And I remembered one of the last memories I had with my middle brother was that he got a guitar. And he was learning to play. And we were gonna make songs. And we are never going to get that chance.

And I wept.
And I weep.

And THAT'S OKAY!

It's coming up on a decade. The waves still hit. I can weather most, but the ones I can't, I almost welcome them now.

At least I still feel. At least it still hurts.

TL;DRGrief is a beach. Don't let anybody tell you how to walk it. But for my fellow walkers, I'm here. There's a reason the ocean's salty





ETA: whale cum, mostly, but I'm sure the tears don't help.

Peace