Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Grief is the Thing with Feathers by Max Porter



Grief is the Thing with Feathers is a new novel about a family wrestling with grief:

The poetry of this piece of prose demands a poetic response:

Gut-wrenching.

Challenging immediacy; chaotic raw pain.
Need for comfort; need to comfort; need to/forced to grow (up).
Immersive voice, language, rhythm gets in your head, gets in your speech.
Visceral; discomfort; pushing: vastness.
Supports: coping together, coping separately.
Feeling. GRIEF. ANGER. VIOLENCE. PAIN. Expressed through the body; expressed through the words in this book. 
Unlike any other novel or memoir on grief this text tells you nothing.  But it shows you everything.  The pain and anger and violence and chaos of grief is not told, but shown to you and felt by you.  

I have never felt less alone in my grief.  I hope it helps you feel the same. 

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Introductions 2.0

As promised I give you my revised introduction:
 
I want this to be a resource, providing short reviews about helpful books, websites, and other sources on grief, depression, and anxiety.  And as I get braver and bolder I will share my story.  I could be smart about this and make the blog be specifically about depression, or anxiety, or grief. But for me the three are so interconnected and entwined separating the tools for each would be disingenuous.

Above all I want to be honest.

For ease of access I will designate each resource for people looking for a specific topic.  And I will keep the posts short and to the point.  I can not focus well or for long when I'm in the middle of a depression, episode of anxiety, or grief wave.  It is unfair to ask you to.

As my therapist would say,"Aren't you doing this because this is what you wanted for yourself?"
   
Yes. Yes it is.  

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Mourning Diary by Roland Barthes


Abandonitis n.- an inflamed sensitivity to/fear of abandonment; seeing it in all things (small or large); feeling completely separate, other (even with others around).


This is one of the many aspects of grief that Roland Barthes captures so brutally in Mourning Diary.  I have never read anything that encapsulates the suffering of grief with such directness and authenticity. Read it.