Instagram Cured My Grief

Results may vary, but these are mine.

It is never my intention to downplay anyone’s struggle with grief and loss. We all experience it differently and it’s true that many people experience prolonged, complicated grief. 

This has been the most complicated thing I’ve ever been thrown into. Not because I can’t claw my way out and see the other side but because in all aspects of life I’m a pretty cut-and-dried person.

If there’s a problem I do my best to address it head-on and either solve it or get through it expeditiously.

But you can’t really do that with grief because it’s always there. 

It’s like moving into a rundown, old house on the longest lease you’ll ever sign. 

Your shitty slumlord never comes to fix anything so you have to invest your own blood, sweat, and tears into making things work to keep it livable.

The next payment constantly looms over your head like an angry bill collector. Even when you no longer have the funds you still have to pay the rent…forever.

But you don’t have to commit to a mortgage.

It only took about a year before I grew tired of hearing, “I’m sorry for your loss.” I truly appreciate the sentiment but believe me, no one is sorrier than I am.

However, I don’t want to live in the house of grief and I learned that fairly quickly on Instagram.

A couple of months ago I created a profile for Grief Notes because I thought going social with this newsletter would broaden my scope.

It was a mistake in my personal journey.

For the most part, what I ended up finding was not uplifting in any way. Aside from a handful of accounts from those attempting to live positively despite their losses, a lot of the content dragged me down.

I know, it sounds selfish.

I guess I just didn’t see any benefit to purposely looking for more sadness. I’m not trying to rally around despair. And I certainly don’t see any reason to glorify my loss.

I’ve attempted to keep Grief Notes at least a little bit uplifting.

My goal has always been to include tiny silver linings in my writings. I NEED to believe the road gets a little easier with each passing day…and for the most part, it does.

The void of loss doesn’t get easier but how we live each day can.

Just as we discussed in our last post by Christina Stiverson, we can and should allow ourselves to breathe. To celebrate the lives we have lost with gratitude.

I personally didn’t find that on Instagram. Instead, I found plenty of quicksand that I would surely sink into if I allowed it.

So, when I say that Instagram cured my grief what I mean is that by being on the platform in the arena of loss and bereavement, it helped me to realize that I could stay stuck if I let myself.

I don’t want to stay stuck.

I don’t want the mortgage.

I don’t even want to pay the rent.

All I want, as I close out my second year living in this house of grief, is to write an I.O.U. to my shitty slumlord. He may get a few more dollars out of me on bad days but I don’t intend to fund his whole retirement.