Plateau

Most people liken grief to a roller coaster ride...and I happen to agree, wholeheartedly with that particular comparison. When describing my grief, I explain it in that way, a way that most people will automatically relate to, or understand. I'll say that my roller coaster ride of grief is working it's way back up, and people will know that I'm having a few good days...some may realize that the inevitable result of that though, is the plummet back down.
In my own mind though, I think of grief a little bit differently...I rarely explain to people what my imagination has turned grief into in my mind. Generally, if someone asks how I'm doing in regards to Alexandra, and I am in this place, where I am now, I will respond by telling them that I am on a bit of a plateau. People usually understand that to mean that I'm somewhere in the middle and just sitting there, neither good nor bad, but better than usual, so it's ok.
Beyond that though...in my mind, grief appears to be a mountain. I was at the top of that mountain, in the clouds, triumphant. And then, a swift wind came and knocked me down off the top of that mountain, and I fell. And I fell and I fell until, right before I smashed into the earth, my safety line jerks me to a halt. And there was a time, where I hung there, that time right after we lost Alexandra, where nothing seemed real, I was in a fog...in shock from such a massive fall. Hanging there, confused about why I hadn't struck the earth and died. Hanging there confused and dazed and not really understanding or taking anything in, just trying to get myself back up onto my feet. To get my footing, so I could stand and look up at the mountain that is grief.
After a few days the confusion wore off and I realized what had happened and I began to climb. And as I climb, occasionally, I slip down a little bit, having a bad day. Some days I slip and fall, and down I tumble, into the sadness below. And I have to pick myself back up and climb up the part that I thought I was past. Sometimes, I reach a spot where I can stop and sit for a minute...sometimes that minute turns into a day, a week, maybe even a month, and  sit there on that plateau, almost numb, not wanting to deal with anything. Sometimes that plateau has a little warmth, where I think that I could stay for a long time, I'm not to the top, I'm not to the "better" part, but a little warmth can go a long way, when you've been struggling up a cold and desolate mountain for nearly 7 months.
My goal is the top. My intent is to make it back to the top of this mountain, cautiously. There will be more slips and more tumbles and more warm plateaus, but my goal is the top.