I have a new therapist and she’s amazing at her job. Honestly, she’s a little too good at her job. It’s clear she got A’s in school, has read every therapy book one can read, and has found her life’s purpose. I joke I need a therapist who got B’s and C’s in school and is just moonlighting as therapist until they figure out what they truly want to do. I’ve only been meeting with her for a little over a month, but in that time she has figured out I use sarcasm to cover up emotions and she feels entitled to call me out when I do so as if it’s not a healthy coping strategy. Yeah, it’s kind of an issue. I’m pretty sure that’s not what I pay her to do..

One of the main topics we’ve been diving into is grief. Yes, I won’t blame anyone if they stop reading this post after reading the “G” word. I understand as I’ve been running from her for 21 months. Unfortunately for me, grief has very long legs, very fast feet, and an uncanny ability to make her presence known whether you invite her in or not. She’s impossible to outrun and/or avoid. I’ve been avoiding her because to feel all the grief I have feels insurmountable and overwhelming. It also feels like once I open the lid on the bottle labeled “grief” I can’t put back whatever comes out. I fear what’s going to come out and that whatever it is will never stop coming.

I was sharing all of this with my A+ therapist and she said “You don’t have to nor can you feel it all at once. What you can do is feel it in little doses.” Immediately I pictured a pharmacy handing out little bottles labeled “Grief” with instructions on how much of a dose to take.

I’ve been experimenting with dosing grief and while it is not fun, it is doable. I haven’t drowned in an ocean of my tears yet. I haven’t been swallowed up by the grief and confined to my bed for days on end. It has helped me to slowly feel the grief related to all of the losses I have experienced since August 2022 and the losses I experience daily. When I have to cancel an appt or get together because of my symptoms, I grieve. When I have to leave an event early because of my symptoms, I grieve. When I have to ask for help to do basic tasks like laundry, cleaning up my room, making dinner, etc, I grieve. When I see pictures of me teaching and remember how much I loved being in a classroom, I grieve.

Before I got sick I had this idea that people grieve, get over whatever they are grieving, and then they begin to live again. I now know that’s not how grieving works. Grieving and living go hand in hand. I imagine my grief as this new person in my life who is going to be walking alongside me for the rest of my life. Some days she’s the leading lady other days she’s a supporting actor and still other days she’s just an extra on set, but she’s always there. She’s there whether I acknowledge her or not. My A+ therapist talks about making friends with your grief. I’m not there yet. We aren’t friends, but we aren’t enemies either. We are two strangers slowly coming to terms with the fact that we are stuck with each other. I can take her in small doses and for right now that’s enough.