Loss can break our hearts. This post, adapted from Comfort for the Grieving Spouse’s Heart, points out that there’s only so much a heart can take. No matter what your loss, chances are you’ll be able to relate.
FROM THE GRIEVING HEART:
I woke up today and felt numb. I was just there. I didn’t feel anything at all.
I stared at the ceiling. I lost all sense of time. I got up and went through the motions, hating every step. I thought my heart was broken. Now I’m wondering if it has departed altogether.
I’m a shell. I feel empty.
I’m surrounded by your absence. Sometimes I get some relief. There are times when I’m not thinking about you. Then something will bring you to mind, and I feel guilty for having forgotten you, even for a moment.
Your absence seems to have spread and now permeates my existence. You’re not here. You’re not there. You’re not anywhere I’m going to be today. The rest of my life will be spent without you. The thought of that is more than I can bear.
I don’t like this. In fact, I hate it. I want you back. Now.
I’m numb, but at the same time angry. Don’t ask me to explain that. I can’t. I don’t know much of anything right now, except that I love you.
Broken hearts can only handle so much.
The heart can only handle so much. Broken and even shattered, we need breaks from the constant, grinding pressure of grief and its emotions.
Our hearts shift into survival mode. Our feelers shut down. We stare at walls, ceilings, and people. We look but cease to see. Life flows on, but we are not a part of it. The sadness, anger, frustration, confusion, guilt, and anxiety all add up, and the heart powers down. We feel empty, listless, even lifeless.
Some losses change everything.
We’re numb.
We move in and out of this numb place. The heart takes a break and then begins to feel again. When the emotion gets too intense, it takes another brief hiatus. Like an electrical breaker being tripped or the emergency stop at a gas station being pushed, we momentarily switch off.
This on-and-off life is exhausting. Life is anything but “normal.” In fact, nothing quite feels, looks, or even tastes the same. Grief is pounding our entire system.
We practice breathing deeply and slowly. We give ourselves permission to be emotional, confused, and numb. We take our hearts seriously. We practice being patient with ourselves. We can power down when we need to. Overall, we learn to expect less of ourselves.
Grief is squeezing our minds, hearts, and bodies. The only way to deal with grief is to grieve.
Affirmation: I may feel numb at times. That’s okay. My heart is working to manage the unmanageable.
Adapted from Comfort for the Grieving Spouse’s Heart: Hope and Healing After Losing Your Partner
Additional Recommended Resources:
Grief Soundbites: Managing Our Expectations – Gary Roe YouTube
When the Heart and Soul Go Numb – www.garyroe.com
Half My Heart is Gone – The Grief Toolbox
My husband, my soulmate, died two months ago and my heart is so broken. We were together over 41 years and together survived the death of our 14 year old son over 19 years ago. I do not like like this new life. I just miss him and everything that we did together. I cannot imagine the rest of my life without him.
Hi Susan. I’m so sorry. You’re right…that new life is really, really different. Please be kind to yourself. Hopefully, you have someone where you are that you can share freely with when you need to. Please feel free to reach out here any time. Again, I’m so sorry.
Dear Gary
I lost my son 18 months ago. He was my hero. EMT Firefighter.
I feel like I’m living a dream/nightmare. People and surroundings are the same but a huge part of me died with him.
I am strong in my faith with God. I will never understand why this happened. Nothing good has come of our lives since his death.
Forever Nick’s Mom
Hi Beverly. Thanks for sharing with us. I’m so sorry about Nick. Yes, I’m sure part of you went with him. You have a special Nick-sized hole in your heart that no one and nothing else will fill. I’m so thankful for your faith. The Lord is with you in this, every moment. Being able to make sense of such a thing is beyond us, I think. Again I’m so sorry. Praying for you now…
Such an accurate description of my very existence. It helps to know that I am not alone and I hang onto the hope that eventually things will feel/ be better.
Hi Kathy. Thanks for commenting. You are definitely not alone, though at times is certainly feels that way. Keep hanging onto that hope. As you move through the grief, it will change over time. Please be kind to yourself…
Love all your books. It’s 6 yrs since I lost my husband and this yr has been the hardest. I feel so alone. No one to talk to. No one to hold hands with, kiss and hug. I don’t know why it’s harder but sometimes it’s just too much. Guess being 69 and thinking of how long I have left scares me
Hi Joanne. Thanks for sharing this – and thanks for your encouragement and support. What you’re describing sounds very natural and common. It hurts, and the “missing” goes on. It strikes us at new levels as time goes on – and our situation in life certainly has a great influence on that. Please keep being as kind to yourself as possible. And please feel free to reach out here anytime.
Dear Gary,
Your words are so true and so powerful, I know they come from a place of real understanding of what grief is, I know this because I know grief as well and your words are spot on. I really enjoy your communications and your books as well, I relate to your heart. ThankYou for the work you do, your words are really quite powerful and much appreciated.
May God bless you now and always.
Sincerely,
Colleen Smock
HI Colleen. Thank you so much for your kind words and support. You just made my day. I so appreciate it. I’m glad we’re in this together. Together, we can make it through, one step at a time. Blessings to you today…
I lost my oldest daughter unexpectedly over a year ago and, I’m grieving every day, and your e-mail and kindness words help me. My pain is so intense some days I just have to let myself cry out until I can’t cry anymore. .. Unt’ll next time it hits again.
Hello Hyeyong. Oh no. I’m so sorry about your daughter. No wonder you’re grieving every day. Love never dies. And that feeling of “missing them” can be so, so intense. Please be patient with yourself, Hyeyong. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please let me know. Blessings to you…