Identity Theft
Who are you now?
It comes up a lot in discussions with the brave individuals I support, as well as within my own reflections and conversations with friends.
Who am I now after loss? After changes? After illness or injury? What is my identity in this reality? What do I have to give? What is the point of life? All the big, huge, monstrous questions going forward in a life that has been changed on a massive scale.
When we are in the midst of this pain and limbo, we want a clear path ahead. We are too impatient to hear that it will reveal itself eventually, in incremental, infinitesimal steps, likely only noticed in hindsight. That is very difficult to hear when you feel that you have given all you can to the searing grief, the uncertainty, and the loneliness of it all, as no one can live this new reality for you. No one can understand all the changes and the tiniest of losses that add up and build on each other every day.
It is not just the big, obvious moments like holidays and anniversaries; it was always having someone who took out the garbage and made sure that your winter tires were on the car. Who knew how to fix things and how to comfort, and had the same odd sense of humour as you. Who you enjoyed cooking with and eating meals together, now you are shopping for one, and you just dont care. It is all on your shoulders now, when in the before, it was shared, you were a team.
It is the you before you had an accident, illness, or injury that altered completely your capacity to be in the world. You now have to figure out what you are capable of and what you are not. The things that you took joy in, in the before, being with people, concerts, dancing, are too loud and have too many moving parts and are too draining, so it is easier to stay home. Your capacity has completely changed, and you are questioning how you find joy and hope going forward in this body after it has been completely changed and is unrecognizable to you, even if to the outside world, you look totally the same.
There is such grief now layered on top of our personal losses, with this changing world, which is just another thing that is not in our control. This is the crux of the matter; none of this is your choice. It happened without your consent. You did not consent or agree to having your partner get a terminal disease, or to having a stroke, or to having your child die in an accident. You did not consent to having your life changed so drastically, and you did not have control over any of it. There is massive grief around all of that. It must be acknowledged. There must be mourning for the you that was in a world that now is not. There must be time allowed for the absorption and adjustment to this new life. There must be grace given to yourself for not having a clear path forward right now. There is no rushing this. There isn’t any, just keeping as busy as you can, without the understanding and integration of the depth of the change and loss.
The you that is evolving from all of this will reveal itself incrementally. There is no bypassing the time it takes for this integration of the different life and it is vastly different for each individual.
There is no end goal post or a finish line of “I am now done with grief and can start now.” Again, it is a slow absorption and integration. A slow return of capacity, and bright spots of humour and happiness that you notice. You build upon those spots of relief and comfort and lightness, even though they may seem few and far between. You notice them. They will add up and give you strength and courage. You will slowly start to trust yourself again and your capacity. You will be more mindful of that capacity and guard it carefully. You will guard and intentionally start allowing in the people that you feel emotionally safe with, and you will be more discerning with those that you do not. You will choose much more carefully how you spend your time, where, and with whom. You will evolve from the before to the after.
on we go,
Hilary
I agree, Hilary. Grief has become a part of who I am 🫶