My Metaphorical Expression of Grief: Tunnel of Grief

It’s like crawling through a dark tunnel that your body barely fits in. There is no end to the tunnel. You just crawl, and crawl, and crawl. You get tired of holding your head up, so you let your head hang as you keep crawling. There’s no point in holding your head up anyways,  there’s no end to the dark gloomy tunnel. Now and then there are tiny slivers of light that shine through little holes in the sides of the tunnel, but they only give you hope that you’ll get out for a quick second until the light rays are gone.  Sometimes you get so tired of crawling through this tunnel, you lay down, on your stomach, arms beside you, because there’s no room to get into a comfortable position and even if you did it still wouldn’t be comfortable in this tunnel. Sleeping is nearly impossible living in this one way darkness.  Your life in the tunnel is a nightmare, awake or asleep. You are always alone, although those you love are crawling through their own tunnels right beside you. You torture yourself with your mind,  thinking of anything and everything you could have possibly done differently to prevent your life in the tunnel, even though you know deep down nothing you could have done would have made a difference.  At times you become claustrophobic in the small area. You scream, you cry, you pound on the sides,  wondering if you’ll ever get out or if anyone will ever truly hear you. You feel like there isn’t any air, like you are suffocating. You think of the times before you entered the tunnel,  when things were great, you felt like life was going how you had planned, and colors were bright. But you can’t go back, there’s no room to turn around in the tunnel. You’re stuck on a forward path that you don’t want to continue on but you have no other choice besides giving up and staying still. You realize that the end of the tunnel is the end of your life but you can’t see where it ends because it seems there is no light at the end of the tunnel. It seems like you’ll never make it to the end, but you keep pushing yourself because you have to. You realize that you must accept that this is your life, and make the best out of it although it is a horrible place to live.

Author: PaytonPiesMommy

I am a mother to 4 beautiful and amazing children. My youngest son was called to Heaven on March 26th, 2017 after a 6 month battle with a brain cancer called DIPG (Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma). He was only 7 years old. My life has been forever changed and my heart longs to be with him. I must complete my mission on earth, until we meet again. Writing is my outlet.

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