First posted in July 2019. We have grown so much more than we ever thought we would, and we want to share our earlier posts. We aim to reflect on the early struggles of our grief, and what we went through without our mum. We are proud of where we have come from, and of where we are going. We hope you are as well.
If you are struggling with your grief, that is okay. You are not alone.
Give me peace, for one moment.
Give me peace where I can rest easy. Where I can curl up, lay my head down and fall through the darkness to the place where my dreams are colourful and vibrant.
Give me peace. I only need a second. My thoughts are a riot, and I plead with them to quiet. I am patient. I will my brain, not for silence, but at least a buzz that I can relax into. My mind is active, but my body is tired.
I begin to read, because I don’t like the direction my brain is headed. I have been down that road before, and all it leads to is loneliness and sadness. I read a hundred pages, and I could read a hundred more. Yet I close my book; the pages are too inviting for my mind. It wants to crawl into them and live in this world of strangers.
I would like a conversation, where we talk about life and living and what it all means. Maybe after, my brain will turn into liquid and drip into dreams. Soon, I tell myself.
My body is exhausted and my mind is tired from the laps it runs and the assaults its throwing. Yet the clock never falls asleep, and apparently my mind is jealous of time.
I relive the past, and I predict the future. What good does this do? I ask myself. My mind is a prison, and I’m trying to be patient, but my body screams for sleep.
I know I’m exhausted. My eyes are heavy, yet when they close, I feel every second as it slips away into the night. It’s as if someone is whispering goodbye to the minutes as they pass me by. I slowly age and all I want to do is ask them to shut up.
I try to listen to music, and my heart pumps with melody, yet I tear through album after album. Eyes closed, body still. A corpse, but not a peaceful one.
My eyes blink open. I have reached a new peace. So, what if I’m tired tomorrow? As long as this doesn’t happen tomorrow.
My eyes bore into the darkness, and I see new light, a new day, dawn breaking around my soul. And this must have been the moment my mind needed to see. It tucks itself down, whispers goodnight, and we fall.
Copyright © 2019 The Grief Reality. All Rights Reserved
21 thoughts on “Reality Revisited: Insomnia”
I’ve never read a better description!
Thank you 💕
I loved reading this. The picture you painted in my mind was perfect.
Thank you so much for commenting!
Oh, this is sheer poetry. I know exactly what you are describing. Very well written!
Thank you so much! It is so kind of you to say 🙂
This perfectly describes the battle with letting go into sleep that follows in the aftermath of such a significant loss, so relatable.
Thank you 🙏
Thank you 🙂
This is just brilliant. Describes perfectly what so many go through.
Thank you so much 🙂
Beautiful & descriptive!👍🙌
Perfect!!! I feel like you described one of my nights! 😊❤
Thank you 🙂
I hope you don’t have one of these nights again aha
I hope so too!!! 😊😊😊
Thank you for sharing your journey.
Thank you for being here on our journey <3