The Constant Pursuit Of The Cure For Sadness
or Why We Aren't Allowed a Good Wallow
If you are a regular or if you have landed on Tarantula: Authors and Art welcome. This year, we hope that our stories as well as the artists that we feature will inspire you to start your own creative journey, and our house team of writers will join you on this ride. This February our inspiration is Swedish artist Lotta Melin. In addition, we are extremely excited to feature a guest post form one of our readers, Lidia Oshlyansky, who reached out to say “Hey, I wrote something, would you like to read it?” As our hope is to inspire our readers to write, paint, draw, we were delighted to read it and happy to share Lidia’s debut on our pages.
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An acquaintance in my son’s school yard is fishing, "I'm so sorry to hear about your divorce! How are you?" What am I going to say? "Shit! Currently experiencing a dozen mostly negative emotions a minute every waking moment of the day and most of my sleepless nights."
Instead, I paste my American patented smile on my face, "Totally hanging in there. Some days are tougher than others, but it's a process. Thanks for asking." Code for drop the subject lady. She is obviously not getting the message.
"Absolutely, you need to keep busy and get out there. You know, my friend, she..." I've already tuned her out. She'd hold more of my attention if she were reading the Q section of the dictionary. At least that could prove useful in Scrabble.
On the other hand, a dear friend says, "Come over for Christmas. You don't need to decide until the day before, it's an open invitation and it's whatever you feel like then and there." She gets it. She will occasionally check in with an “I'm here if you need anything" and doesn't lecture on the merits of "getting out there" and "keeping busy." I am bloody stinking busy. I have a kid, a dog, a house, and a full on job in one of the worst economic downturns of the last 50 years; I am nothing if not busy. What I am also is fucking sad but that doesn't seem to be allowed.
Why is it that modern culture doesn’t allow for sadness or grief? Why are we not allowed to wallow a little? Just a tiny bit? Why is it that culture norms and polite etiquette keep me from telling someone that I am bloody stinking fully utterly and unabashedly sad?
As far as my limited knowledge (and a quick search on wikipedia) tells me most religions and most cultures have practices around allowing for time to heal, for mourning. I’m not suggesting we all go back to wearing “widows weeds” in full, unrelenting black, complete with a heavy veil, I’m just wondering why in modern life after a loss we are expected to bounce back and be instantly OK.
I’m not just talking about the death of someone you love. Loss comes in various forms that are less severe but still pretty tough to get back from. These include divorce (as I am now painfully aware), a loss of a valued job/business, the loss of a home (such as in storms or fire,) loss of friendship, loss of a pet … we can go on and on.
Grief takes time. It comes in waves. At the beginning, the waves feel like a never ending storm that batters your psychological and often physical well being. Then the waves are more random, they become less sever and less regular. They are often unpredictable and unexpected.
It’s been 30 years since I lost my beloved grandmother and yet still there is an occasional wave of sadness, of missing, of loss. I have learned to allow those waves to wash over me and feel that sense of sadness and not try to reach instantly for a cure but rather to give myself that little time to ‘wallow’. It all reminds me that I loved someone deeply and wholly with full knowledge of their quirks and their sharp corners. That they were real and they were with me and they were someone hugely meaningful and that their loss, even 30 years later, is still felt. And isn’t that ok? Isn’t it ok to feel that love and that loss and be sad for a while.
I know that wallowing forever isn’t good. I understand that we all get up, we go to work, we take care of our loved ones still with us, we walk the dog, feed the cat, we do the grocery run, we clean, we cook, we garden, we go out with friends, we go for a walk, a run, a holiday. Life is there to be continued not end. Yeah, I do get that. Not saying “don't get up;” just saying “it’s ok to feel sad and grieve.”
I am blessed with kind, smart and loving friends all over the world who remind me that it is ok to be sad. As I wrestle with the feelings of grief at the end of more than a decade long partnership and I try (and often fail) to face my divorce head on with all its practicalities, I also get that underlying sense that I just have to be ok. I have to find my particular cure for the sadness that sometimes overwhelms me. I have to find the yoga class, the workshop, the dinner, the walk, the holiday, the magic “plan” to just be ok.
As I actively get on with it and do all the dog walking and the grocery shopping, I will honestly admit that I am not ok. I am sad. I feel the societal pressure to get over it and on with it and be happy. The underlying expectation that I go find my cure for the sadness that I live. Yet, the only cure I know is time to allow the waves to become random and unexpected. I can not predict how much time.
I want to be allowed to wallow.
I certainly don’t think I am allowed to wallow.
Why aren’t we allowed to wallow for just a little while and be sad?
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Bravo Lidia! Be sad and take your time xx