No one was on the schedule to write for tonight so I am posting this as an Open Thread for grieving people who want a place to gather.
Please share whatever you need to share.
Welcome, fellow travelers on the grief journey
and a special welcome to anyone new to The Grieving Room.
We meet every Monday evening.
Whether your loss is recent, or many years ago;
whether you've lost a person, or a pet;
or even if the person you're "mourning" is still alive,
("pre-grief" can be a very lonely and confusing time),
you can come to this diary and say whatever you need to say.
We can't solve each other's problems,
but we can be a sounding board and a place of connection.
Unlike a private journal
here, you know: your words are read by people who
have been through their own hell.
There's no need to pretty it up or tone it down..
It just is.
I have been getting creative lately with my self-care, looking for new low-cost/no cost ways to pamper, distract and comfort myself in an emotionally turbulent time.
Right now I am focusing on pleasant smells.
I bought some really nice French milled soap. A small indulgence, but a nice soapy bath/shower is a comfort that involves four of the five senses (nothing to taste in the shower unless I rinse my mouth out with warm water). When it is hard to get out of bed in the morning, having a small thing like nice soap to look forward to can help get me in the shower and get the day started.
When I was cleaning my apartment during my vacation I found an old Glade Wisp, clean linen scent, and set it up next to my computer. It goes off by itself every once in a while and is very gentle. This thing is so old that Glade no longer makes the Wisp product and refills are not available. After it runs out, that's it. I should probably switch to scented oil anyway. God only knows what weird chemicals are in it. Supposedly it is safe if I keep it out of my eyes.
I am also trying to get back into real cooking now that cooler weather is coming. I made a chicken and rice dish last week with lots of onions and garlic and poultry seasoning. The smells filling up the kitchen almost backfired though. It reminded me of mom's cooking a little. It's been so many years since she was well enough to cook for me.
Of course it is a general testament that my mood is improving that I am even able to pay attention to minor things like this. It means I am attending to the present moment and noticing external circumstances more.
When things are really tough I don't notice how anything smells, and there are no such things as small pleasures.
When the heartbreak of grief is really squeezing me, even big pleasures can't break through the wall of sad.