Have you ever felt completely disconnected from the entire world and the people around you? I mean completely, like you exist in a separate dimension – and you have no idea where you are or how you got there. And the feeling? Fear. Terror. Disorienting and nonstop agony.
“I’m alone. Cut off. Exiled.”
That was the essence of my early days of grief. The metaphor that most accurately represents my condition is an exile into a cave – a grief cave. A totally separate dimension isolated from the world “out there.”
Above me, in the ceiling of the cave, were small openings barely large enough to see outside or poke my head through. But there was no escape from the cave. No shortcut to an exit. It didn’t take me long to realize I had to either find my way through or remain trapped inside.
This chapter also speaks to my need to search out fellow grief sufferers – anyone who found themselves in a similar state. Someone who had a clue what I was up against. At a minimum, I hoped it would relieve some of the pain of loneliness and isolation.
At the Time:
I had to face the reality that this grief cave was my new existence, which only added to my panic and fear. I had zero self-confidence or energy. My thoughts were limited to: “How can I get through this day? This hour? This moment?”
I knew I had to deal with this on my own, but I also yearned for some kind of connection with fellow sufferers. Like a man in solitary confinement yelling: “Is anyone else in here?”, I desperately needed to sense some kind of presence in the emptiness.
What I’ve Learned Since:
Looking back, I realize this was indeed a subterranean path I had to go through. What I couldn’t know at the time was the cave had an opening at the end. It had an exit, which would appear when I learned the lessons grief had to teach me.