The Voice Stealer

Grief. Until encountered grief is nothing more than a faded resonance of the boogeyman. All children fear the unknown, fear the dark recessed shadows, fear those tiny sounds and seemingly breathless whispers in the middle of the night. They fear this distant personhood known as the boogeyman until they learn that the tiny sounds and breathless whispers in the night can all be explained away. Grief to the unlearned is the boogeyman, explainable, rationalized, to those untouched by it. The problem is, the boogeyman is real, he takes many different forms, he is a different personhood for each of us and he is anything but explainable. Grief is one of the many personas of the boogeyman, you learn not to fear it because it hasn’t touched you but then one day it attacks tearing away the one thing you love most. You are left with a gaping hole in your chest; you can’t breathe, you can’t think, you can’t even make sense of up or down. In a moment your deepest terror, truest nightmare, and worst fear is your only reality. Your heart has been shredded, your soul shackled, and your lungs oppressed with the weight of a 1,000 regrets. In the midst of all the damage, all the chaos, all the nightmare you don’t even notice that grief has stolen your voice. You have been rendered silent by the war torn reality of loss.

The journey of grief is unending but its story must be told. Everyday is a fight to take back the voice that has been captured. Love will have the final utterance even if it is only the faintest of whispers. The journey will be dark, messy, raw but I hope and pray it will be worth it. Come with if you can, this can’t be done alone.

Always fighting,

The Voiceless