Let's Talk About Grief, Baby

The Monday Post just got real

Mar 01, 2021

Elizabeth Olsen, as Wanda Maximoff, gives Marvel emotional depth with her continuous trauma and loss.

“I can feel the sadness coming. I feel it inching closer and closer, yet I feel as though I can’t stop it. I’m merely an observer experiencing the inky darkness that consumes me. The once wide-eyed hopeful girl is now a cynical and despondent shell of her former self.” I wrote this in my Moleskin journal back in 2018 and wrote about it in 2019 for Play Into It.
At the time, I’d never written so openly about my depression before, and I certainly never expected the Monday post to be inspired by a tv episode. Yet here we are, thanks, WandaVision, truly.
Growing up, Nick at Nite sitcoms were my escape. The Mary Tyler Moore Show, The Munsters, The Addams Family, and I Dream of Jeannie were my can’t-miss shows. Before finally getting my own 25” Magnavox tv for Christmas when I turned eight, I had to fight my two older sisters for our shared tv time. This wasn’t your cat-scratching kind of fights; ours were fists of rage with sometimes hair-pulling because, of course. We had some pretty gnarly fights that helped me toughen up (as did having older boy cousins who liked picking on us until we fought back). So whenever I managed to secure the remote away from my sister, who shall remain nameless, I turned to my comforting family sitcoms of outcasts.

Watching Friday’s episode of WandaVision was like a Hulk smash to the gut. We never realize how much our trauma shapes who we are as people. I certainly didn’t expect Laura Donney’s fantastic line to hit me so hard. However, as I watched Wanda describe her pain as waves, her trauma overpowered her to create a life-like simulative reality. Meanwhile, Wanda desperately tries to keep herself from breaking into microscopic pieces by completely shielding herself from anyone outside of this new “reality.” It was too on the nose for me but brilliant nonetheless. As the pandemic wall was hitting, I’ve been living with hurt and anger since this time— anger over racial injustice and government, among many other things, that last May became a blur. Nevertheless, that stressful Sunday’s pain and multiple emotions are etched in my brain.
My grandfather was unconscious and unresponsive on his bedroom floor; he’d fallen and broken his hip. Fortunately, he’s okay now, but it wasn’t easy to see much less process. Before my grandmother’s passing, I’d never experienced a significant loss. It was almost too much to bear to know he was close to death, mainly because it wasn’t anticipated. Although it should, considering he’s in his nineties, no one is ever truly prepared to say goodbye.

Unfortunately, my Abuelo’s accident wasn’t the only thing that happened that day. Selfishly, I experienced a vast friendship loss that, until very recently, culminated in unpacked trauma that festered into even more hurt and anger because of how it happened.
Without divulging much, everything I once knew crumbled around me during a lockdown and pandemic. While also living through the ongoing #BlackLivesMatter movement, the most significant movement in U.S. history since the Civil Rights Movement.
This loss mirrored itself into one but two close friendships lost and probably more without realizing it since picking sides would happen. Although for me, this isn’t about picking sides. Ignorant prejudices, color blindness, and refusal to acknowledge a friend’s raised concerns about historically problematic behaviors were enough for me to move on.
I value the memories of my friendships, even if it’s no longer. Resulting in the cagey, avoidant behavior of my past life, and anyone who didn’t see my pain was cut. Not out of anger or vengeance but merely as a coping mechanism. My Cancerian way of life is to retreat and gatekeep my peace because of self-preservation.

The already abnormal activity of my neural circuits tends to spiral in unhealthy ways. I was smoking a lot more and sleeping less. My mood swings were erratic and more constant while becoming irritable at mundane things.
This particular feeling of friendship disposal seemed all too familiar, yet I am without two people I loved now out of my life. With possibly two other friendships, at the moment, joining.
Losing people is never easy; like romantic breakups, I felt disempowered, sullen, and discouraged. How did I cope? By distracting myself by keeping busy in any way, I could find. I was bypassing reality with my made-up surreality.
Some days were better than others; ultimately, these disruptions were just a façade of me masking myself into thinking I didn’t need to mourn or think about my pain.

If I were Wanda, I’d mourn Paul Bettany too.

Except what happens with loved ones you’ve lost in such a significant way? They become ghosts who haunt your memories and stay with you because of unfinished business. I had to confront my ghost and then release it like Victorian spirits.
Now, I’ve finally embraced the confusion instead of avoiding it with simulative living that was most of last year to help with my coping, and grief wasn’t doing me any favors. It was only repressing my emotions instead of dealing with losing the most important people in my life, something I’ve been conditioned to do by my well-meaning but tough-as-nails parents.

Keep it together. Don’t let others get to you. Don’t cry— why are you always crying? You can’t be too sensitive, the world will eat you alive. You need thicker skin than that. Pull yourself together, you can’t let them see you cry. Don’t forget who you are, mija.

At this moment, due to never allowing myself to feel, my very recent breakdown helped me begin to let go— to let go of being without them and holding on to hopeful yet blinding nostalgia. That false hope and reliving the pain of expecting different wasn’t keeping me together; it was holding me back from myself. While I cherished them, I realized the need was no longer there and vice versa. I finally accepted it, and my semblance of control was completely gone.

I no longer apologize for the following things:

For speaking up and sharing my truth.
Holding others accountable for their problematic behavior.
For putting myself first; and my feelings.
Letting go.

Currently, it’s like I’m meeting myself for the first time and forgiving myself for my harsh, unforgiving past. Change begins with us, and while similar to Wanda, I hit an emotional plateau. Fortunately, I’m internally restructuring myself emotionally so that I may heal. This new dimension of myself is softer, a bit vulnerable (something I always hated), yet still sardonic. That’s just always going to stay the same.
Woefully this friendship ended, I have nothing but fond memories, and I’m thankful for the time because while that love dissolves, I have nothing but respect for the times shared.

While the pandemic has stalled any social interaction, I feel incredibly fortunate to have people rooting for me and reading and supporting my craft with the help of some lovely online friendships. I never really had that before; supporting people I adore is crucial. I’m letting go of everything that has already let go of me, and it feels freeing.

I’m not an avid awards show person— I like watching the theatrics in jest— mostly it’s the fashion, and as expected, last night’s Golden Globes were a mess. What could’ve been an email was an overdrawn Zoom meeting with some questionable occurrences. I didn’t watch, but that didn’t stop me from finding out via Twitter.
The Golden Globes is seemingly just a party, and while I already shared some of my opinions on the timeline, I’m saving the better takes for a better awards show.

Instead, I’m still wondering where’s the proverbial beef with this year’s underwhelming W’s Best Performances portfolio.
As a fan of Juergen Teller, I look forward to yearly photos which kick off the chaotic awards show season. The portfolio features Hollywood actors with breakout tv and film performances since its inception in 2013.
By now, we’ve all seen the memes, my favorites: Ma, Shaq, and other celebrities, but we can all agree this year’s felt off. 2014’s is much more my speed, but my standout and a standout in Lee Isaac Chung’s Minari’s dynamic cast is the adorable Alan Kim.
Like Alan Kim, this week’s Celebrity Chaos Synopsis is short and cute. Just look at the material.