One Step at a Time

The steps we take after leaving grief.

Picking up the pieces after grief is incredibly exhausting. You are hyper-aware of all the thoughts you think, decisions you make, and are constantly questioning yourself at every turn. Are you in the place you want to be in your life? Are you moving on too fast or not fast enough? Is this how it's supposed to be? What happens next? These are just some of the thoughts I think on top of all the other thoughts every twenty-something goes through.

I have been thinking a lot about "Firsts". That our lives, from the minute we take our first breath, are filled with nothing but firsts. We all know the classic ones like first steps, first word, your first day of school, and so on. They fill the pages of our mom's scrapbook and photo libraries of our phones. As we grow from childhood firsts, we move on to adult firsts. First jobs, first apartments, first adult relationships, first real heartbreak, and all the firsts that follow.

In my last post, I discussed the stages of grief and what I learned in each of them. Now, as I leave grief and move back into life, I am greeted by all types of "firsts" again. Some of these firsts send me right back into small stages of grief. For instance, the first positive thing to happen. I had just received a scholarship in my graduate program. I was so overjoyed that the first person I wanted to tell was my ex. It was that immediate gut reaction of him being the first person I thought of that sent me spiraling into a dark place again. I did end up calling and telling him about it, to which his response was very kind. He congratulated me and I thanked him for all his help on that particular journey. The next first was the first bad life event. This event hit me hard because it involved someone close to me that I often sought advice from my ex as he knew the situation I was in with this particular person. At that moment, we were in "no contact" and I knew that if I reached out every time something good or bad were to happen, I would never get over him. Instead, I cried, I phoned my friends, I wrote in my journal, and I tried to think of all the things he would've said to me and told them to myself.

The firsts that followed these two events were nothing I wouldn't consider normal. I started to really focus on myself. You know, the classic therapy sessions and gym membership combo. The first thing people tell you to do after heartbreak is to "work on yourself". I've come to understand that statement more now because it is true, but at the time, it felt like I was to blame. That what happened to me was my fault, thus preventable. However, going to the gym and attending therapy have helped. When I don't feel good about myself physically I go to the gym and work my ass off. When I start to gaslight myself with negative thoughts, I talk it out in therapy. The improvements I see in myself vary day by day, but they are there.

I often wonder if these "first steps" I have taken after grief are the correct steps. If I am healing properly, or if I am only hurting myself more? Somedays I find that I forget what he looks like. Even the sound of his voice illudes me. On those days, I know I am moving on. All the steps I have taken, all the therapy, intense workouts, outings with friends, and personal growth I have put towards myself, were not for nothing. This also includes all of the tears, the questioning, talking badly to myself, and personal mistakes, were necessary too.

I like to think that the steps we take after grief is like the adage: "Rome wasn't built in a day." Great things take time and Rome is still being built on top of the layers of history just below its cobblestone streets. People are also layers and layers of history, mistakes, triumphs, and life. Like Rome, healing takes time, effort, and a whole lot of grit. But we're never really done healing, are we? Grief isn't overcome in a day. We are constantly "building" ourselves, one step at a time, in the hope that one day, we will be looked upon with beauty and awe. Not only by others but by ourselves. If the ancient Romans could see the city that they built, and what it has become today, I think they would be proud that their foundations have stood the test of time. It's these foundations that I am building now, that I hope to be proud of one day.

So far, I am.