Creating Through My Grief

It’s such a strange sensation to exist inside your body yet feel like you simultaneously are existing outside your body. Grief has affected me profoundly, but it’s not always easy to conjure up the words to express how I’m feeling. It’s like I’m walking around wearing somebody else’s skin, somebody else’s life and it’s too big for me. I’m awkwardly trying to appear that nothing is different. After my mother’s death, I sensed the change occurring in me and considered dropping out of the MFA program. There were long stretches of days when I couldn’t summon the energy or will to care about any of it. I was so passionate about writing when I entered the program, but that passion waned considerably. And I feel incredibly alienated inside of my grief.

My mother was my best friend. And like all friendships, ours was a complex relationship. I wrote two poems about our relationship: one was written before her death, the other after. They can be found here: here. While I was deeply honored to see my words in print like this, I wish I could find some of my old passion. I wish I could feel comfortable in my own skin again. People have said that you never fully get over losing your mother, but you learn to carve out the rest of your life around that loss.

Every day I try to carve out that space for myself using my art. It’s cliche to say, I know, that a part of us dies when a loved one leaves this earth, but I’m finding it to be true. Sometimes I feel so separate from everything and everyone else. I suppose that is enough procrastination for now. I’m going back to finish working on poems for my end-of-semester portfolio.

Don’t forget to check out my poems using the link above, if you haven’t already.

Peace and love (as always),

Rosalind