Forums › Fiction › Plotting › Rndm brainstorming post to help each other when we got nothing. Yep. › Reply To: Rndm brainstorming post to help each other when we got nothing. Yep.
*pops in a-matter-a-factly* I have been summoned tell me there’s cake.
Ok I gotta question. What’s some creative ways to show mourning over a death? I’ve never been one to show my pain to people, so I’m a very, um, weird I guess, mourner. I don’t cry or anything, I didn’t even cry at my own father’s funeral. So yeah, I don’t really know how to write it. Any tips? (btw I swear I’m not a heartless human being, I just have my own way of dealing with loss and pain I guess)
Ok, death, I am to talk about death. This sounds deadly. I know like @rose-colored-fancy mentioned a good way to portray grieving is for the characters to act kinda out of character; the sweet time getting mad the cold type breaking down etc. I know I won’t cry past a certain point or cry at absolutely everything (and yeah, I totally get the ‘don’t make a big deal about it’ I refuse to apologize for crying or acknowledge it if I’m in the middle of a conversation, although I do want to be comforted sometimes once I’ve let it out I consider the “grieving thing” over. Was there anything you remember especially about your dad? You don’t have to answer that I can be pretty insensitive!!)
I think the biggest way people grieve though is all the little things they used to do. My best friend and I broke up like last month or so and I vacillated between reading old emails and throwing myself into projects to forget about it and get over it. Still haven’t told my parents coz I don’t want “to deal with that” (…still working up the nerve to tell them I started a newsletter too even tho they honestly wouldn’t mind at all I’m mostly 100% sure. I’m logically sure…) I just remember feeling numb and like every word I was saying/thinking was wrong (I’m a little intense in case ya haven’t notice :D)
I think…for example I miss the whispery quality of her voice, I miss how she was constantly dying her hair, I miss her freckles, I miss how we used to bet candy in this boardgame Candyland because I hate boardgames and betting at least made it interesting. We ran outta chocolates once and had to use peppermints.
Sometimes I think of all the things she did that changed the direction of my life, she does gymnastics and dance so I learned how to do a cartwheel from her, I still practice the exercises she gave me I bought a DVD on ballet because she encouraged me to pursue this and I still do it now. It’s silly things, thinking how much closer we could’ve become, rehearsing every word we said every thing we did and wondering if I could’ve done better, feeling like everything I did was wrong but that I still know I made conscious choices to deepen our friendship and to have difficult conversations and I did horrible but I did my best and it wasn’t enough. Then I kinda wax philosophical and wonder if it’s just who I am that makes me fail even though I realize it takes two people to build a friendship but I know she was doing her best on her end to. I really don’t wanna tell my parents coz I’m afraid they’re gonna take sides.
After the first two weeks or so you know, I stopped listening to music too loud to try and block it out and I finally told my sister coz she doesn’t make a big deal of it and she’s compassionate toward both sides. I guess I’ve entirely moved on I barely even think about it except when I’m having these awkward conversations (*take note “she crakes jokes as a bad coping mechanism” double take note “she calls herself out on it and does it anyway”) and I might feel guilty for feeling relieved that that’s done. For a while I was thinking “wow this really doesn’t just happen in storybooks I read about this but it actually feels this way, dang, it halfway feels like it’s describe maybe I’m a story character now.” Then you kinda start thinking about the irony of it all coz you have two characters in your story, who were very close, that both feel betrayed by the other person and that was the plot threat before you even had any friends and you kinda think now “well, I guess I know how to write that now, don’t I? Guess if I pour all my grief into that it’ll be a pretty persuasive plot.” Then you wonder if your subconscious mind predicted that from all your actions the way authors accidentally predict historical events, and that makes you wonder if there’s something in you that’s dooming you to fail and is there a way to fix that or be brave enough to be that honest with yourself?
Then at some point the pain is kinda like being accepted into the club of adulting coz you’re grown now that you understand the pain they keep describing. Then you realize the pain could be a superpower because now you understand and that means you know what to say to help, just a couple times more than before. And for a while everything’s more real than it was before, ya’know, you actually have a reason to be sad but it’s just there like a ridiculously vivid movie and it’s actually maybe a blessing and maybe a curse to feel just a little too deeply. You kinda systematically and impersonally go through all your “symptoms” of losing and then it’s just a thing and you hardly remember it at all.
Anyway, I’m done plus totally agree with @rose-colored-fancy’s description. Everybody ok now? 😛
*promptly vanishes in a plume of glitter*
Don't let the voices in your head drive you insane;only some of them can drive; most are underage