Today, for me Christmas is about having less, giving to others and indulging in things that bring comfort and joy.
Tag: writing helps
As Told By You; December 2021
This month’s theme for December is “Winter Grief”. Christmas is a hard time of year for those who grieve. Winter can be a tough time for anyone as it is, and it can be made harder by the fact that Christmas is around the corner. With Christmas comes adverts filled with pressure and perfect families enjoying Christmas.
Reality Revisited: Insomnia
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.
Submissions Are Open For November!
This month we would like to do As Told By You a little bit differently. We would like you to focus on a theme. This month’s theme is “The Many Faces of Grief”. This can include; facets of grief that you have experienced that you believe are overlooked in the discourse surrounding grief. What is an unconventional part of grief for you?
No Caller ID
Do I care about the people on there, or do I simply find it comforting? The stroking of my phone as I scroll, and the big red heart that comes up when I press like? I put it down, gasping for air.
Tips on Journalling When You’re Feeling…
Tips on Journalling When You’re… Sad, Frustrated, Happy, Heartbroken, Grieving, Insecure, Anxious or Lost
Any Submissions? (July, August 2021)
thegriefreality@outlook.com , just pop in the subject “As Told By [Your Name or Anonymous] or you can private message your posts to us on our social media.
As Told By Alastair
Grief is unpredictable. And seemingly timeless.
Updates to The Grief Reality!
We cannot express enough that our blog means the world to us. When we started this page, we just needed an outlet to express our pain and loss. Two years on, we have 4,000 followers across all platforms, and we are completely blown over by it. We cannot thank you enough for all your support.
As Told By Ananda: There Are Always Songs To Sing
My brother was 17 months older than me. When he was 7 years old he won silver in the 50m run at the school sports meet. As he crossed the finish line, the wind raced past my ears and a surge of lightness rumbled through the wooden stadium planks. His joys and fears were mine and my hopes and victories were his. I could never truly accept that he was another person.