It happened a week before Thanksgiving, more or less. I decided not to remember which day it was, precisely, because I didn’t want our memories to be celebrated in just one day. To be confined. There are relationships that deserve to be diluted, so I did. The day Giovanna died I didn’t freak out and that made me freak out. I’m a Taurus with rising Pisces and there’s no way I can get through something like this whilst being focused, present, active.
People asked, I replied. Giovanna was my best friend — yet stating that wasn’t enough. Giovanna was older than I, enough to be a second mother to me, another older sister, an emotional mentor, a literary dealer. Yes, I used to call her to get my fix, because I’m not on drugs but I’m high on metaphors. People asked and I offered them pictures of Giovanna, quotes from Giovanna, pieces of Giovanna — yet nothing was close enough to her greatness, I was gasping for air, I was gasping for her.

USING THE RIGHT WORDS.
Grief made sense, but it was not enough. Bereavement sounded more correct, but it didn’t fit me because I couldn’t really understand where it comes from. I searched for it: the word bereavement comes from Old English and means “to deprive of, take away by violence, seize, rob”. It has a Germanic root: a mix of Old Saxon (biroban), Dutch (berooven), Old High German (biroubon) and German (berauben). I experienced the weirdest sense of relief on earth, because I felt exactly I was robbed from the gift of her presence.

Change perspective: try to use words or images to describe your grief. Don’t be scared of doing this like a baby would do. Use colors to describe yourself to yourself. Are your tears blue? How strange the word blue is used to describe both a color and a sad state. Are you feeling transparent, doubting your own existence? You’re white. Try to emphasize with colors. White, for example, also recalls a chance of light. White is peaceful. Do some color research and keep yourself distracted.

TEARS SEARCHING FOR A MEANING.
Once I had found the right word to declare my status, I was ready to try to survive. The temptation to surrender to pain and give up on everything is high. The first days were an infinite black hole of tears, sobs and screams. I was inarticulate sounds came to the surface and I was both destroyed and scared because something primal kicks in, something nobody talks about — we become animals. Sorrow and despair start to flow in our bloodstream and we howl in pain. Emotional, physical, rational pain. A friend told me to let it out and I did it. There was no sense in holding back tears or muffling my screams. Bereavement is a path, but a non-linear one.
Then, suddenly, something turned my switch off. All the pain replaced with the biggest fatigue on earth. I couldn’t keep my swollen eyes open, I couldn’t talk. So I decided to close my eyes and not to say a word for a while. Tears stopped pouring and the big winter of sleepiness came to me.

Change perspective: don’t try to escape from letters, pictures, facebook feed. Our goal now is not to deny that something happened, but to understand there must be something we can learn about it and we must do the effort of searching for it. Animals feel sorrow, too, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of if inarticulate, dark sounds come from your mouth. Your cells are now rebelling to the loss and there’s a deep fight inside of you. Just stay still, listen to all those explosions and don’t try to suffocate them.

TO SLEEP IS THE ULTIMATE BLESSING.
I’m not someone who enjoys the grace of sleep too much. In fact, when I sleep too much I am not enjoying the restorative moment of “battery replenishment”, but I’m near depression. This is how my brain works. I just sleep. The more I sleep, the sadder I am. This is why I was extremely suspicious when I felt this big wave of sleepiness taking over me, but now I’m grateful it arrived. When we are able to sleep, even if we don’t feel any better after that, our emotional system takes a break and our cognitive load takes a walk on the wilder path for a while. We must face the exhaustion of bereavement and embrace that, because it arrives to save our balance. It’s our brain murmuring “you’re finishing your fuel” before we’re in real danger. If you feel sleepy, just sleep. Say no to guilt, don’t listen to the dishes in the sink who claim to be washed up. We must rearrange and it requires a lot of energy.

Change perspective: sleep is your best friend right now, but you must give yourself a time for that. If you work all through the day, for example, allow yourself extra grieving sleep at night, also at a ridiculous time (be in bed by 19:00). Your password now is “restore”.

DO SOMETHING FOR OTHER PEOPLE.
It sounds silly: you’re in bed and you can’t even try to keep your eyes open because everything burns, everything is pain. Although this, I experienced that the best way not to die with the person who left is to do something to be proud of. I remember walking around with a dark face: it was at the same time a reflection of my inner turbolence and a mask to keep others away from me. This can turn into a disease, though, because we are biologically programmed to survive and we have to trust the power of interaction.

Change perspective: personal hygiene and grooming seem trivial, unuseful, almost disrespectful. They belong to the “nothing makes sense anymore” big load. Well, there is probably no pleasure in taking a shower right now, and it’s completely ok. Just remember that your body needs to get rid of dirt and your sorrow is producing a lot of toxins now. Get clean, do the impossible effort of eating something balanced, wash away a layer of muddy thoughts every day. A new and refreshed version of yourself will be able to help others and find a meaning.

SCHEDULE YOUR MOURNING SESSIONS.
How can be something irrational and rational at the same time? The secret is to treat something irrational (bereavement) with a rational approach. Grief and pain come in a tidal way, with big waves and then smaller ones. You will soon learn to catch your breath and get your energy back when the tide is lower. If you schedule your pain-tide, you can count on a higher amount of energy to fight the darkness of loss.

Change perspective: loss is robbing you, but it also gives you the chance to take a moment and think of what keeps you going one hour at the time, one day at the time. You need rules, right now. You need habits, alarm clocks, grids and schedule: all those tools are the anchor that keep you afloat.

I won’t let the holiday season making me feel alone without her. Even if every little celebration will have a bitter, rusty taste of loss, I will fight my dark feelings because when we lose someone we loved that much, their love must be a reason to keep on living and do it possibly in a better, more conscious way. Plan your holiday ahead with yourself in mind: there’s nothing wrong in being a little selfish right now. If something is unbearable for you (from hardcore shopping sessions to endless dinners with relatives), just tell them. These boundaries are detrimental to the reconstruction of your emotional and physical balance: don’t overlook them.