Earlier on, I wrote that at first feelings of grief take up most of your mind, like a paddock taking up most of a field.  Then the paddock shrinks and other feelings reappear as well, but the grief in the paddock is always there, you have to learn to live with it.

Metaphor for today:  At the moment I feel like grief keeps escaping from the paddock, it won’t be constrained.  I imagine it like a horse that I go and catch, and lead it back through the paddock gates, into the space it’s supposed to be kept in.  Stay here, grief-horse, I’ll come and walk with you sometimes, but let me have life apart from the grief, can’t I?  Keep out of this grief-free part of the field that is my mind.

But he escapes, the horse.  He jumps out, he crashes through the fence, he charges round all the areas he isn’t supposed to be in.  He won’t be ignored, he won’t be shut up in one space.

It’s not working, this trying to keep the grief in one place.