I have been reluctant to write about the topic of “conversations I have with myself” for fear some might not understand or make inferences to something they do not understand. The conversations I have with myself about my grief are sometimes enlightening, profound and quite frankly – scary. I hope you can understand then my reservations about posting such personal thoughts. But wait I think you may know me by now and have come to understand I don’t hold much back when it comes to my thoughts and feelings. But I think even this topic could raise a few eyebrows.

I’ve even thought of creating a random Tumblr account and posting my inner most thoughts – but even that seems a bit daunting. Would anyone read it and better yet, would anyone care. I don’t know. As I peruse blogs I find such random topics and wonder what actually drives people to blog at all. Is it a need to be heard or a need to vent? I think maybe both. For me personally, it’s a need to vent the pain of loss that pursues me daily and a desire to help others.

Conversations I have with myself are like mini movies in my head. You know like reading a script and I’m the only actor in the movie. Reminds me of the play I saw on Broadway – 700 Sundays by Billy Crystal. He does the whole play by himself. Replaying life for the audience. I think my blog is a lot like that. I wonder if it’s run its course. Have I said all there is to say about grief. What it was then is how it is now. No one understands it. This topic has always been between me and God. In the early days the conversations I had with God, were dynamic and gut-wrenching. Things have changed. I am not sure what to do next. Nothing feels right. The conversations are gray and vague with no real purpose. I have lost my vision.

So what do I do next? Does it matter? If I listen to myself, those conversations in my head, I’d leave it be and let the blog go on to live where old blogs die. But there is a dynamic pull to keep it going. I just know I feel restless and there is a need for change. The one thing I am completely sure of and that is this: Grief has changed me. Grief has become a permanent resident in my life and covers my heart like a scar that covers an open sore. It’s hardened my heart. I’m not sure that is reversible. So perhaps that is where this blog goes from here. From acute to chronic. Finding a way to live again in a meaningful way. Sorting through the conversations in my head that tell me it’s too hard. Yeah I think I might have told you this was a little scary and I’m not gonna lie – it’s a tough way to exist. What has worked thus far is no longer an option, I have to find a way through this fog and make sense of who I am going forward because who I am now – is not who I thought I’d be.

Until next time

m