I gave the idea of 15 minutes of grief to a friend recently. Today when I woke up, I was everywhere at the same time. As I followed my thoughts through the chaos maze, I found myself staring at my own words: 15 minutes of grief.

The thing with me is I don’t often take my own advice. It’s good advice. Reflecting on this, I believe I am projecting what I really want for myself onto other people. I have been aware of this for a little while. The feedback I have been getting is essentially to stay in my own lane. I share my thoughts when I feel really compelled to. For a very long time, no one said anything to me about things that could help me. Least, I don’t remember them anyway. Memory loss and all that.

Regardless, I am trying to increase my awareness of my damaging actions. Trying to call myself back into the realm of what is and what is not acceptable behaviour.

So I decided to make an attempt at my words of advice for myself. I have been hunting, searching, yearning for my tears and they simply do not come. So much so, my current warpath to find my missing tears has led me to Googling ‘saddest movies of all time – Reddit’ to find the goods. Mainly I have come up short like with the latest endeavour which was ‘Ordinary People’. Very 80’s, good premise, not something not quite on the mark with that one. Some movies have been quite good though, not in the way I wanted them to make me feel though. Like ‘Dear Zachary’ – that was angry-sad, put simply. The other one that caused a stir was ‘Manchester By The Sea’ – a tale of grief.

Anyway, today I started with one of my favourite songs – to show my plant medicine. I have listened to this song at least one million times – Clair De Lune by Flight Facilities. The shuffle took me to Salt and the Sea by Lumineers. This one represents a time when I was in distress, while on ketamine, about memories that came back to me. I got home safely and broke down on the front steps into the arms of someone I love. The safety of love, after getting memories back about someone who harmed me in the safety of the night when I was a child. The next song was Above the Clouds by Bear’s Den, which to me is about trying to process Big Loss when I was a kid and the dynamics that played out when I was a kid. I think of my Grandma mainly. It’s not a perfect representation of what I have experienced, but I make it work.

I followed this directional sign to grieve my Grandma’s death by playing I Miss You by Blink 182. This was when the tears really started to fall. Gone Away (acoustic) by The Offspring was next. That one always gets me in the feels. When my parents were here, my Mum humoured me by letting me play it for it. She had wet eyes listening to it. I played Rising Water by James Vincent McMorrow next. This was a song I chose to honour my Grandma during my Peru Ayahuasca retreat. It was after the ceremony had finished, we were asked, if we wanted to, to sing a song. This one is upbeat, until a certain point, before it lifts again. I danced around while it was playing.

I was interrupted at this stage. I didn’t hide the fact I had been crying, though I didn’t say much when I saw them. It was suggested to me to go for a walk, get outside, maybe go and see a movie. I held my tongue and eventually explained that this was intentional. This was my process. When I explained the full adventure of how I got to this point, they understood, and apologised to me for trying to fix the situation.

I went back at it for another 15 minutes, an hour in total. I finished up with some of my picks if I should ever do karaoke. The whole time I was lip syncing, or letting a tiny bit of my voice out, so not to disturb the neighbours. Mainly for privacy so I wouldn’t be heard. Something I have to work on is the fear of taking up too much space, especially with my crying. There is a lot of shame that comes up when I am crying.

I had made plans last week to go swimming today. I wished and hoped they would be cancelled. When they weren’t cancelled, when the time was reconfirmed, I decided to be brave and explain I was feeling delicate today. I was told if I don’t want to talk about it, to know I didn’t have to. I explained I didn’t not want to talk about it, I just needed to explain that I was feeling delicate. It was received well.

I couldn’t count for shit when I was there. We were doing half lengths and I couldn’t count the laps to save my life. The Inner Critic out to tell me how dumb I was to not be able to do something so simple as count. We had just finished talking about the Inner Critic and how to combat it, we were going to have an Inner Critic Olympics to see who was the meanest or most messed up. I very, very, very slowly came up with my rebuttal. ‘Yes, I can’t count or remember anything because my memory was wiped. Both my long term and short term memory. So if you could help with that, that would be greatly appreciated’. Silence on the other end when I finished. It made me laugh. The counter attack was perhaps not expected.

I came home famished, and with a bit of a headache. I felt that I hadn’t done anything at all today. Just realising now this is another one from my Inner Critic. Without realising it, my counter was that I have done enough for today. It’s okay to rest and chill out. So I continued watching my TV show Girls.

I woke up suddenly just before, and clearly woke the cat up at the same time. She was perched on the lounge chair cushion above me. Upon me sitting up, I must have moved the cushion and she came bundling towards me in a ball. We call this her Sonic the Hedgehog Manoeuvre. It made me laugh.

I started dinner and really just wanted to keep watching my TV show, but I am trying this on for size, of writing before bed. My sleep is so insufficient at the moment. Consider this part of my Sleep Hygiene Improvement Initiative (SHII for short).

I feel worn out. I pray I sleep soundly tonight.

I forgot to say: after the 15 minutes of grief, space had been created within me to find the write words to write on the card for our neighbours going through a hard time. I have been wanting to write this card for weeks and I just couldn’t. I ended up writing a second card for the neighbour in the caring role. It’s about grief. I feel the end is near for her friend. Maybe it’s against the rules, but I couldn’t not write it when I was doing it. It came from somewhere deep within me. I will visit with them to explain my reasoning. I think I will sing the song from yesterday to her too. It feels right.

That’s all this adventure of life is about: doing the next right thing by me.

Remember: it’s okay to take up space.

Lots of love,

Kate