There are days, when I sit blankly in front of my laptop - awaiting the magic wand of inspiration to be more productive. The beads of sweat that dot the brow - are not born of hard labor : rather perhaps, the sheer willpower to not to throw the laptop away and run.
Life came with no manual on grief management. There seems to be no right or wrong way to know if one is okay. And what is being okay, anyway? Is it rather a superficial term to signify a neutral state of mind or a farce to make believe in the roses above the thorns?
The past few weeks after my brother crudely orphaned me, has made me skirt my innermost feelings and skate on the cracked surface of dry ice. Reality is but a mirage - the past more a testimony of truth than the 'clear and present danger' now.
These last few days, I have had tons of well-wishers including skeletons from the closet sending me warm messages of condolence, reminding me of my loss and the direction to be strong. My empty eyes mulled over the words sent - what did being strong mean too? Did the messages indicate that I should not be swept away with the winds of change / or let go of my own sanity and thereby being strong fundamentally is a cry for mental health management / is it a request for my willpower to automate the smile on my face, airing the tears away?
The words seemed puny - the wishes to 'be strong girl' - a sordid check on the complexity of the human mind. There really was no need to send a directive - a simple "I am there for you" could have sufficed. Funny how the well-wishers shifted the onus of action on the victim than be simple and humble enough to take it on themselves?
Maybe what the last few weeks did to me then - is to gain wisdom to suddenly debunk the myth of "okay" and also discern the fake in all that we bake or make.
I am not okay. I will never be okay. And that is okay! Its really not about how strong I am with dry eyes and a fake smile to prove that I am okay.
The reality that my enlightened soul was thwarted with, was also the facade of some of the gold-diggers - who were the erstwhile goldmines as friends. It did again point to the lack of humane connect and the disdain to disobey the set protocols - but be safe and exchange words of sorrow from afar. I was disappointed - but relieved. The masks had slipped and that was okay too!
Words, have always the most inadequate forms of expression. There are times, when there are no right words to share - yet let's not choose the wrong words then? It could save a multitude of neurons beings over-worked, trying to find the grain of integrity within!
Coping with loss is never easy for anyone. However, what I have realized is, if you do know of anyone going through this experience - do reach out and physically be there. You do not need words - especially directives such as 'be strong'. You just need to make your presence felt and perhaps share a hug. That's a far better comfort than mere words!
And if you are incapable of doing the above, do stay away and spare the unlucky one. There is enough on her plate, as it is.
Simplicity of human emotions need to be persevered through - not severed in the effort to be an instant well-wisher : the act itself a check-list, negating any sincerity meant!
What we also must realize is that - its okay to be anything. Labels such as weak / strong matter little - what one feels is beyond others' comprehension and that is okay. To be okay, is not a race against time. Its okay not to be okay (if you must follow the stereotypical explanation) and that is perfectly okay!
