Dear Grief Guide, I Feel Like I'm Drifting In Outer Space

Hello and welcome to Dear Grief Guide,

A podcast where each week I answer one anonymous letter from a listener feeling lost,

Stuck,

Heartbroken,

Or overwhelmed in the midst of grief.

My name is Shelby Forsythia.

I'm a grief coach and author,

And I'm here to help you create a life you love from the life loss forced you to live.

Let's get to today's letter.

Dear Grief Guide,

It's been six months since I lost my partner.

In the beginning,

I was surrounded by a sea of condolence cards,

Casseroles,

Comforting words and sympathetic glances.

Yet,

As the weeks turned into months,

The waves of support slowly receded,

Leaving me alone in a vast emptiness.

My partner was a vibrant soul,

And their death has left a void so profound it seems insurmountable.

We shared a connection that felt like the very gravity holding our worlds together.

Now that gravity has vanished,

Leaving me unmoored and struggling to find my bearings.

It's as if everything I ever knew has been blown apart by loss.

I don't know how to begin to put the pieces back together.

I am writing to you because I feel like I'm drifting in outer space,

Untethered and weightless.

In the early days,

Grief was a storm,

Pulling me under and threatening to drown me.

But now,

It's transformed into a silent vacuum,

Where the absence of his laughter,

His touch,

Echoes louder than any sob or wail.

I feel like I'm navigating a great cosmic loneliness,

Grappling with the vastness of a universe that no longer feels familiar to me.

People and things I used to care about seem lightyears away.

It's like I'm trapped on a distant island,

Watching the rest of the world pass me by.

I know that my friends and family care about me,

And I know that my grief isn't something to be fixed,

But my question is,

How do I reconnect with myself and the world again?

I don't expect to be the person I used to be,

But I do know that there's more to life than floating.

Sincerely,

Adrift Grief Astronaut Hi there astronaut,

I see you.

I love that you referred to yourself as an astronaut drifting in space,

Because this is one of the most common metaphors I use to describe how loss makes us feel.

Grief is a lot like being suddenly plunked into the depths of outer space and not having your bearings at all.

Not only are you missing a compass or a map,

You're also missing ground underneath your feet and that,

Wow,

That is the very nature of grief.

From this letter,

I also feel your ache,

Not just from the emptiness and the isolation and the loneliness of having lost somebody who is so important to you,

So core,

So integral,

But this even greater feeling,

If I can say that,

Of feeling disconnected,

Of feeling unplugged from everything that you used to feel plugged into,

And I'm not sure if this is true for you.

But for a lot of people who are grieving,

It's as if even plugging into things that used to power them to fill them with energy or fill them with life,

Even those seem like dead connections after a loss and if that's how you're feeling,

Please know that you are not alone.

But so what do you do in floating in outer space in being adrift out here?

Something that I often share with clients that I work with is this invitation.

That's what I want to call it today,

An invitation to look around from where you are.

To see maybe once a day,

Whether in person or on social media,

Or even in TV and movies,

Not real worlds,

But just to notice who else out there in the world is grieving.

Because chances are that they also feel alone on whatever little planet they're stuck on that is not Earth.

Chances are they are also feeling isolated.

Chances are they are also feeling adrift in their life.

I don't say this to be like,

Wow,

Look at all the sad people,

Look at all the sad people out in the world.

But to notice that the world you're living in,

This space that you are floating in is not entirely desolate.

There is an entire solar system of grieving people,

Each of us out here on our little grief planets,

Floating around trying to find our way back to Earth as well.

And you don't necessarily have to join up with them.

You don't have to connect to them,

You don't have to reach out a grappling hook and rope from your planet and string two planets together.

That's not what I'm saying.

But just noticing that even in the midst of this vast space,

And this vast loneliness,

There are other aching hearts drifting alongside perhaps passing by on a comet or on a meteor,

Or on another planet that's just orbiting its way around you,

Or towards you,

Or away from you.

There are there are grievers all around.

Beyond this,

I do want to say to that it can feel really helpful when you're grieving to find ways to anchor into your body again,

Whatever that means,

Or whatever that looks like to you.

I think it's very different and very intimate and very personal for all of us what re grounding into our bodies looks like.

And for you,

Especially having experienced the loss of a partner,

Even that process in and of itself can feel painful,

And feel like another sort of grief.

Here I am anchoring into my body without my partner,

Someone who used to so firmly ground me into who I was,

And to how my body showed up in the world,

Whether through intimacy or just by hugging by being nearby by sharing a bed by helping you carry the groceries and it is so much more than just concrete and physical touch.

So I comprehend that there may be a great amount of grief here as well.

But something like walking barefoot in your home or outside,

Getting a massage,

Taking a bath.

I know these can seem like really trite self care or self help things that get thrown around these days.

But I think done with a sort of griefy intention of here I am allowing myself to connect to something again,

Or to someone again,

It's almost like you have to practice feeling connected in this new world where grief is at the heart of your experience where grief is the sun that your life is orbiting around.

I remember after my mom died,

One of the most surprising and profound things that I did that helped me in my grief was receive a Reiki session.

And this is very similar to other energetic modalities like healing touch or people orienting their hands towards you in some way.

And I was so ran it was at a food festival.

It was nowhere where I was expecting to engage in any way with my grief.

But this woman had a booth set up and a chair.

And she said for a donation,

I'll do a 10 minute Reiki session on you and when she placed her hands around my head in a sort of halo and move to my shoulders and to my chest and to my stomach and to my hips.

I felt so seen and so cared for and so connected to her to myself to the ground that my feet were planted on in that moment in that tiny little metal folding chair in the middle of a food festival.

It absolutely just altogether shifted how I experienced connection in my grief and from there I went on to find other ways to connect both through Reiki but also having that door open a crack I knew that it was possible to connect to the world again.

I do want to say here for you and for others who are listening right now that connection in life after loss may not look like connection in life before loss.

The author Christina Rasmussen often talks about how life after loss is full of second firsts.

You must do everything again for the first time that you did in life after loss because it is a sort of first time you are living life with grief for the first time and so your results may vary than when you did it before loss.

It is as if you are entering a new world of life after loss and you must relearn how to do everything again as small as making a cup of tea and as large as finding ways to connect to yourself when it feels like you are drifting in outer space.

So adrift grief astronaut I hope that this was helpful to you.

I hope you see me and see the other listeners of this show out here on our collective grief planets.

We are all orbiting around our own sons of grief and we see you and you are not alone and yes your friends and family do care but they may not know all the way what it is like to be you on your little grief planet out there in the world but know that there are others who comprehend,

Who know what it is like to go through what you are going through.

There are ways to connect.

You will have to experiment.

I can't tell you what is going to work for you,

What is not going to work for you but know this too,

If you try something and it doesn't work that is information too.

That is you understanding and recognizing that one's not for me.

On to something different,

Check it off the list as something you've tried and lovingly discarded.

I trust that slowly and surely you will make your way back to earth changed,

Different but knowing more about yourself in a way and more about how you as an astronaut,

As a person,

As a soul cope,

Live,

Cohabitate with grief.

That's all for this episode of Dear Grief Guide.

Thank you so much for joining me today.

If you're ready to start moving forward after a loss,

Consider joining my online course in community,

Life After Loss Academy.

There,

You'll find video lessons you can work through at your own pace,

Weekly live calls where I take your questions,

And a welcoming community to talk about grief with others who understand.

You can find the link to learn more and join today in the show notes.

If this podcast helped you feel a little less alone in your grief,

Please subscribe and leave a review on Apple Podcasts,

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Or wherever you listen.

And be sure to share Dear Grief Guide with a friend,

Because you never know what someone you love is going through.

You can submit your anonymous letter for the show and find additional grief support at shelbyforsythia.

Com.

Music for Dear Grief Guide is performed by Addie Goldstein.

Editing by Ruth Spence of Synivia.

Until next time,

I see you,

I'm so proud of you and the work that you're doing in the world,

And I love you.

Because even through grief,

We are growing.