Feel free to not read this, followers, I’m just going on a little venting thing cause I just had a bit of a breakdown and need somewhere to put my thoughts that isn’t an active conversation. Content and Trigger Warning for discussion of the death of a grandparent and the ensuing grief.
That said, shame is such a fucking useless thing in like 99% of cases when it comes to emotions and shit.
Like, maybe I’ve just spent too much of my young life being aggressively queer and mildly punk and have been in waaaayyy too much therapy but like? Being ashamed of breaking down when you need too? Of having the unexpected sob fest when emotions you didn’t even realize were building up demand to be let out? Of cying just in general? Fucking useless.
ESPECIALLY with grief. Like, my maternal grandma who I was pretty dang close with and attached to, died two and a half weeks ago. It was unexpected. It was sudden. It was terrifying and harrowing and it hurt and then I moved on with my life cause I’d already had to put off my move three states over by a week and then I really couldn’t reschedule my flight again even though it was two days after the funeral.
So today, after watching a commercial on tv with my dad and step mom [for my friends reading this I’m just calling April my step mom it’s close enough] I suddenly had to take a moment because it had reminded me of a thing that my grandma used to do. So I walked down to the bedroom and let myself breathe and thought I’d just be a minute and be fine.
Then I started to cry. And I kept crying. And I couldn’t stop and I started to full on sob and shake and good god it was like I was shaking apart at the seems as her loss hit me like a wrecking ball all over again.
Dad and step mom came to see what was wrong after I’d taken way longer than reasonable coming back. Hugged me held me tight as I fucking bawled myself into a gross snotty mess and then kept on crying for thirty more minutes as I slowly got myself back together and talked about my gram a bit.
And after I’d calmed down and gotten all cleaned up and everything me and dad have to head back to our house (‘step mom’ doesn’t live with us cause it’s a complicated thing and she’s not actually my dad’s wife don’t worry about it) and we talked and they both kept assuring me that this was alright and okay and I don’t need to be upset about breaking down.
Which is great don’t get me wrong we love emotionally avalible and healthy parental figures, but why would I be upset? Because society told me it’s unseemly to breakdown? Because there’s a weird culture of only grief that’s clean and neat being acceptable? Fuck no.
I knew I was going to breakdown at some point, I expected it, and I’m very fucking glad I wasn’t alone cause it caught me out of left field.
But I’m not ashamed. I’m grieving the loss of an amazing woman and the matriarch of one half of my family who was one of the most accepting and loving and kind people I have EVER known. I’m going to cry and be irrational and have a breakdown after watching a Reese’s commercial that tangentially reminds me of her chocolate chip cookies.
Shame has no place in my grief, and when the time comes that any of you who made it to the end of this rant loose someone important to you (and I don’t care if it’s a parent or a parakeet loss hurts and it’s allowed) — shame won’t deserve a place in your grief either. Cry and scream and rage at the sky, you’re allowed to be hurting and you’re allowed to show it as long as you don’t hurt other people doing it. And if you do? You apologize, you recognize what went wrong and your behavior, and you move on.
Because grief is a strange thing just like the rest of our emotions — and being ashamed of it is pointless.
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