Episode Twenty One - Grieve with Me

grief, healing, loss, connection, resilience, emotional pain, shared sorrow, death doula, mental health, self-care

In this heartfelt conversation, Dear Psychopomp explores the complexities of grief, emphasizing that while loss is a universal experience, healing occurs through connection and shared sorrow. The speaker reflects on personal experiences of grief, the importance of acknowledging pain, and the resilience that emerges from it. The discussion encourages listeners to embrace their emotions, seek connection, and understand that grief is not something to hide but a testament to love and loss.

You can find me online at www.dearpsychopomp.com

or contact@dearpsychopomp.com

I hope your weekend is gentle and full of opportunities ♡

Transcript

Dear Psychopomp (00:05.28)
I've known loss for a long time. I've grieved many times. And I'm so sorry to say that it doesn't get easier to grieve the more you have to do it.

But you still have to do it. Every time.

And this is exactly what I'm As they say, pain demands to be felt.

Dear Psychopomp (00:39.128)
The human body can only take so much stress on the day of a life-changing moment. And in true Shakespearean fashion, it's almost worse the next morning.

I wake up oblivious to the world while I gather my thoughts and herd the cats. And then I get hit by another wave.

the pain and the remembering.

The, right, my heart hurts and it's all consuming.

And then this guy decides to dress in that specific shade of funeral gray and I think, how fitting. Even the weather mourns with me.

Dear Psychopomp (01:32.098)
Thanks, universe, I see you too.

And I've been...

I've been having one of those days.

you know, the kind where your soul feels like it's been left out too long in the sun.

Dear Psychopomp (01:55.774)
It's lost its luster, its shine.

feels dull, and even your dried out bones seemed to sigh. And it was as if the floor was stolen from under my feet.

I landed hard and fast and wondered how I even got there.

Dear Psychopomp (02:27.702)
And more importantly, where do I stand in the world now?

Dear Psychopomp (02:37.742)
I felt hopelessly alone and insignificant.

Dear Psychopomp (02:48.204)
This is a day where grief isn't a visitor, more so like a roommate who's late on rent, leaving its socks on the floor and whispering in your ear.

when all you're doing is trying to concentrate on something mundane. Something...

Dear Psychopomp (03:14.414)
anything like desperately pretending to be okay.

Pretending to be who you were two days ago.

just so you could start over again and not have that pain.

Dear Psychopomp (03:35.338)
And it makes me want to hide. Not dramatically, mind you. No storming off or theatrical exits, as fabulous as that may feel. Just,

quiet vanishing. An Irish goodbye out of grief and into dissociation. You know, give the old finger guns and slowly dissolve into the wallpaper of existence.

Dear Psychopomp (04:12.876)
become a shadow in the corner of the room. Politely grieving where no one could see me flinch.

Dear Psychopomp (04:25.294)
trying to be silent as I cry.

so as not to upset the ghosts that now haunt me.

I'm trying to be as invisible as a cat's whisker on a white blanket. And it's n- it's not working.

Dear Psychopomp (04:45.762)
But then I remembered.

Well first of all, Anne Marie, you're a death doula.

What does your training tell you?

Dear Psychopomp (05:01.393)
and

that just reminded me that everyone does this.

We all tuck our sorrow into our sleeves, smile with jaws that ache from clenching, and nod politely while our hearts scream in Morse code.

We are a species of masked mourners, dancing through the fire with the expected grace. And yet...

Healing doesn't happen in isolation.

Dear Psychopomp (05:45.874)
It happens in the messy, inconvenient collisions between one aching soul and another. And it happens when someone says, see you and you don't look away.

Dear Psychopomp (06:03.106)
think about my dear friend.

Dear Psychopomp (06:07.426)
dying of stage 4 cancer.

Dear Psychopomp (06:13.944)
He emailed me, asking if he could call me just to cry. Not talk. Not vent.

Just cry.

Dear Psychopomp (06:30.263)
And he did.

Dear Psychopomp (06:35.182)
two strangers thousands of miles apart.

Dear Psychopomp (06:43.426)
and I cried with him.

Dear Psychopomp (06:48.588)
I cried for him.

Dear Psychopomp (06:52.734)
and I cried for my own selfish reasons.

Dear Psychopomp (07:00.972)
for the unfairness of it all.

for the fear of losing someone who made the world feel less cruel.

Dear Psychopomp (07:14.744)
for the ache.

Dear Psychopomp (07:18.764)
that had nowhere else to go.

Dear Psychopomp (07:23.788)
That moment. Sorry, that moment two people.

Dear Psychopomp (07:32.94)
sobbing into a phone.

No solutions, no platitudes or cliches, no recycled comfort. Just raw, unfiltered grief. And it was profound.

and it was so healing.

Dear Psychopomp (08:02.327)
I can't describe.

Dear Psychopomp (08:07.032)
how healing it was.

Dear Psychopomp (08:12.044)
And I think about that moment and...

Dear Psychopomp (08:18.316)
I'm not hiding anymore.

My grief is not a blemish or something to be repaired. It is a badge.

It is a testament to love, to loss, to having felt deeply, and it is the echo of something sacred.

Dear Psychopomp (08:49.046)
I will not wear a mask to keep others comfortable.

Let them face their own demons. Let them project their fears. Let them take responsibility for their own emotions.

Dear Psychopomp (09:06.22)
I'm not here to be palatable. I'm here to be me.

Dear Psychopomp (09:13.548)
And if you're listening, if your heart is heavy, or your eyes are stinging with unshed tears, cry with me.

It's okay, I'm here with you.

Let it spill.

Let it flood the room.

Dear Psychopomp (09:40.62)
Let it wash over us like truth.

Dear Psychopomp (09:47.118)
And then after the tears.

Dear Psychopomp (09:51.726)
Don't forget to listen.

Dear Psychopomp (09:56.054)
Not to the noise of the world, but to the quiet wisdom of your own body.

Dear Psychopomp (10:04.056)
Grief lives in the muscles, in the breath.

in the way your shoulders kind of curl inward like a question.

and your body knows what it needs.

rest, movement, stillness.

Let it guide you.

Dear Psychopomp (10:29.942)
and your heart, it may feel shattered.

but it still beats.

Dear Psychopomp (10:40.152)
Put your hand over your heart.

Dear Psychopomp (10:45.226)
It still whispers. It still reaches for light even in the dark.

There is resilience in grief.

Dear Psychopomp (11:00.64)
Not the kind that roars, but the kind that hums quietly beneath the wreckage. The kind that gets out of bed, brushes its teeth, and chooses to live again.

even when it doesn't feel like living.

Dear Psychopomp (11:27.992)
This is, this is me.

Breathing, healing.

Unmask.

Dear Psychopomp (11:43.148)
listening for the universe to reply back.

Dear Psychopomp (11:49.812)
And before we end, before we wrap ourselves back in the noise and the motion of the world, can we just be here together?

No words, no explanations, just a moment.

Dear Psychopomp (12:11.35)
And close your eyes if you like.

Take a deep breath. Not the kind that pushes the pain down, but the kind that invites it in gently and says, you're allowed to exist.

Dear Psychopomp (12:33.304)
Feel your lungs fill.

Dear Psychopomp (12:37.602)
like a flower opening up.

Feel the weight settle in your chest.

Let it be.

Dear Psychopomp (12:51.372)
You're not alone in this space.

We are stitched together by the threads of ache and healing and by the silent language of survival.

I don't know the shape of your grief. I don't know its history, its flavor, its cruelty, but I know...

I know that it lives in you and my heart aches for it.

for you.

Dear Psychopomp (13:30.902)
Not in pity, but in reverence.

and you're carrying something immense.

That should not be minimized. Just because you carry it well doesn't mean it isn't heavy.

and you're still going.

Dear Psychopomp (13:55.266)
You're still here, you're still with yourself.

Dear Psychopomp (14:05.409)
If I could.

I would hold all the silence that you need.

I'd hold that with you for just a little bit longer.

Dear Psychopomp (14:22.04)
Let it stretch across the space between us like a thread of shared understanding.

Dear Psychopomp (14:30.52)
There's something powerful in stillness, isn't there?

Dear Psychopomp (14:36.888)
the kind that just asks for presents.

Dear Psychopomp (14:44.427)
even in digital form.

I feel the weight on your soul.

and I'll stay.

unmoving, unflinching until you're ready to take the next step.

however small.

Dear Psychopomp (15:08.674)
You can't fail at this.

Dear Psychopomp (15:14.094)
You either grow or you learn.

Dear Psychopomp (15:23.31)
Thank you for listening to this week's episode and grieving with me.

I hope it was a chance for you to feel seen and sit with yourself for a little while. If this episode touched your heart, please hit the like button. Share, follow, subscribe, all that good stuff. If your platform allows, please leave a comment and let me know what you think. Your support keeps this podcast going. You can find me online at dearpsychopomp.com or contact

at dearpsychopomp.com. Death isn't a secret. Let's talk about it.