My Month in Review (March '24)
For what seems like the first time in my entire life, March has been a hard month. It started well, ringing in my twenty-fifth year surrounded by the people I love most. Progressively, distractions fell away, forcing me to look inwards. If I am lucky, I can move quickly enough to ignore feeling guilt or grief but March provided idle time to twiddle thumbs and feel every passing emotion. Once, on the bus ride home, I noticed a rowing team in the Chicago River. My heart twisted in my chest. March, spring–once a hopeful time, now a reminder that though the seasons may change, I am still weighed down by what feels like infinite grief. The budding trees and blossoming daffodils perpetuate my pain. Change has always been hard for me.
As I write this, I am careful to avoid using words such as “sorrow,” “despair,” or any of the like. Grief does not work that way and I could never box myself into that. I was full of sorrow, true, but my tears were also hot and angry, burning my cheeks in fiery streaks. When it seems the pain is getting smaller, it stabs me in my spine and brings me to my knees, gasping for air on a Sunday afternoon. They are inescapable, these complex feelings; I cannot run from my own heart.
The world will go on and dishes still must be done, floors swept, gardens tended. I get outside more, I wash my plates, and I make dinner all the while, biting my cheek to keep from crying. My heart is locked tightly beneath my ribcage and I only reach for it when I am showering, wringing it out beneath the hot water. Go on heartbreak, wash down the drain. Though I am in the practice routinely, it never works.
I text my friends that I feel I will be carrying this pain forever and they assure me that they are here to lighten the load. I sob in therapy, begging my therapist to tell me what it will take to get through this. When they tell me “time” I cry harder. Come to find out, “time” really is the answer. Each day it gets slightly easier.
March offered me multiple moments of finality and a desperation to get off the internet. Even though the reasoning was painful, it was a gift. One day I will wake up and while my pain is subtly shrinking in size, I will realize that it is minuscule. The time will pass anyway. In the end, I have my memories and nostalgia paints them beautifully. It is enough; It must be.
What I am reading
The Red Zone - Chloe Caldwell - This was recommended to me by my therapist as a way to cope with a new PMDD diagnosis. It made me feel seen, understood, and not alone.
The Woman Destroyed - Simone De Beauvoir - If anyone is capable of putting me on the verge of tears, it will be a French woman.
What I am listening to
*Calico - Ryan Beatty - This devastatingly beautiful album has crept back into my rotation this month. Especially “Multiple Endings” and “Ribbons”. To be loved is to be changed. To be heartbroken is to grow very, very much. I am thankful that I am not the first person who has ever experienced it.
*Last Night In The Bittersweet - Paolo Nutini - All of it, over and over. “Take Me Take Mine” is one of the most lyrically beautiful songs ever written. It deserves a listen.
*Somersault - Beach Fossils - I need to be reminded that there’s a part of this that will feel easier. All of it.
Bright Future - Adrienne Lenker - For obvious reasons. I’m a sapphic, don’t roll your eyes.
*Boyhood - The Japanese House - One of my best friends reminded me of this song and I have been revisiting it.
The von dutch remix with addison rae and a.g. cook - Charli XCX - It’s not all devastation, okay? I can still get down.
***To revisit albums is to remember a different time. I know where I was when I listened to these the most–in Paris walking the distance.
You can find my playlist with these songs, albums, your recommendations, and more here: what is going on right now?
What I am watching
Insecure - Revisiting it. Issa Rae is a genius and this show is just such a perfect testament to that.
Love Lies Bleeding - WOOOOOF
The Worst Person In The World - How did it take me so long to watch this? I love hurting myself.
Good Grief - A beautiful debut feature for Dan Levy. Without being overly sentimental it shares the realest version of grief. It hurts so good.
Problemista - I love Julio Torres and this film was what I needed it to be. So cute and funny and slightly heartbreaking.
The Real World - As always.
Sitting at the end I can share how absolutely beautiful grief can be. In this pain, I am repeatedly reminded of all of the love shining in my window. How hard my friends have loved me this month. How glorious moving on can feel.