Grief - Jone't

I’m not an artist so I will try to paint my grief by using words. Imagine a mountain and you are the sole hiker of this mountain (others who have experienced losing your loved one also have their own mountain to hike on). You start hiking up the mountain and the weather starts to change, you also start getting hungry. You just started, how can these things be happening right now, right? You try your hardest to fight through the weather, mud, and whatever else is happening. You are able to get out of that and hike a little higher. Everything seems to be okay until the weather starts acting up again. It fluctuates from a full-on thunder/lightning storm to a light rain. It lasts a couple of minutes to a couple of hours, it just depends on how much you move up that mountain. You see the top but now you’re caught in quicksand. But the quicksand isn’t pulling you under, just keeping you where you’re at. Here comes terrible weather again, all seasons at once. You can’t move, you can only cover so much of your face and body to keep protected. You’ve got some cuts, torn clothing, and particles of earth in your hair. And now you’re really hungry but the wind blew your hiking backpack away. Everything mentioned in this verbal illustration is grief. My grief. I start to move forward just to get pushed, pulled, or kicked down/back in some way or form; by my doing or other people’s influences. Currently I am stuck. I am alone in my grief, things keep getting piled on, and I’m trying hard to hold more than I know I can carry. Every single day is different, I struggle more on some days than others. I’m still trying but grief sucks.