Grief is like a Tail
/I often think of grief like a tail.
Ever-present to you, but invisible to others.
When you experience a tough loss, your tail may feel prickly and sore all the time.
It is always on your mind just how much it pains you, how much it keeps you from enjoying your life.
Every once in a while, you pinch it in a door behind you or someone steps on it.
And it's not their fault; they did not know it was there because they cannot see it.
And yeah, maybe you've mentioned that you have this tail and that it throbs (around the holidays, for example).
However, other people will forget that it is there and will still ask you things like, "What are you doing for Father's/Mother's Day?" and OUCH.
Even people who care deeply for you will do this.
The thing is, they do not have to live with your tail or make space for it, so they'll quickly forget you have to go through life with it.
Other people trip on it and step on it, songs and movies will play that will remind you of hurts, even your mind will replay memories that bring everything back.
In those moments, it may feel like a part of you was just jammed in a car door or like you bumped your head on a low ceiling.
It's as if the central nerve of your tail is tied directly to your heart, throat, or tear ducts.
You may act out in anger or sadness that onlookers won't immediately understand.
The trick is to acknowledge when your tail is hurting and share your feelings with someone you trust.
The more you talk about your losses and how they've impacted you, the more resilient your tail becomes.
What starts as raw and scabby later becomes soft and durable.
As the losses pile on over the years, your tail may feel fresh and vulnerable all over again.
Still, when you care for yourself and make room for the aches, you may be comforted in feeling your grief tail as a part of you and not all of you.