Grief is like alcohol, it will affect people physiologically in similar ways, but how it’s expressed varies from person to person and their psychological profile.
I recognize that I’m in mourning for my mother who is currently being kept alive by machines. It’s to me to fly over there and release her. And I’m working on that.
But I wanted to make note of how grief is working through me right now, because it’s an unusual feeling. It’s actually physical. I feel like I’ve had two beers – still functional, but sort of stunned, I can feel a sort of numbness on my face, as though I’m getting over being slapped.
I cried after I wrote what was, essentially, her obituary and cried briefly again with my wife. But, I have to take care of stuff and I don’t dare stop and grieve in a hardcore way. Because if I do, I won’t be able to take care of business.
I need to keep moving, and take care of the thing. And then, if I need to I can let the great big sobbing happen. But not today. Today, my body gifts me with numbness and slight disorientation.