How to Attend Funerals of Yourself
I have hosted funerals for versions of myself I failed to fulfill.
I have come to terms that I am not as wise as I used to be. I used to put my heart into everything I do but time has worn me down and I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m here to tell you that it’s okay.
The UPCAT results were recently released, and it has reminded me of a time when I wanted so much from the world. I have died a million times since then. With all the college orientations, I was not oriented on how to grieve over versions of yourself.
I used to love writing, but now my pen sits untouched at the corner of my table collecting dust, begging to bring words back to life again. I used to pick up my paintbrush with ease, but now it only feels heavy on my hand.
I used to be in shape while dancing, but now my legs and arms are too loose, trying to heavily strike steps that require the proper texture. I used to train every day after classes, but now I’m stuck sitting in a chair, always facing the screen, just to finish what’s left off my to-do list.
I no longer recognize the person I’ve become. I look back at different times in my life when I could have been something greater than I am now. I turn around and grieve for all the wasted potential.
College has not been kind to me lately or rather I have not been making the effort to deserve kindness. Either way, I am failing at wanting the best for myself and settling on mediocrity instead. Or maybe, it is burnout that forced me to just settle to what I simply can so as to lack the urge to do more than what I can.
My computer history page is filled with how-to’s for attending funerals in hopes of finding the answer on how to cope with the deaths you’ve bestowed upon yourself. I stumbled upon a blog about funeral etiquette and found some tips that might help you conduct yourself while burying different versions of yourself — those you lose and those you failed to fulfill.
- Be respectful. Death affects everyone, but your own death will affect you the most. Be patient and allow yourself to feel sad over what could have been. Reminisce over the good times, and forgive yourself for the bad.
- Minimize Distractions. Funerals are a celebration of life that has been lived. Excuse yourself from calls of the past telling you that you have no more room to grow, that your funerals reached their limit. At best, put those ringing whispers of uncertainty to rest by putting your self-doubt in silent mode.
- Take part in the funeral if possible. The person you are now should take part in burying who you were then. Saying kind words despite the cruelty of the past is important in making yourself feel at peace.
- You don’t always need to be sad. Losing a version of yourself that you thought would take on the world with open arms is heavy. However, that does not mean that you have to be sad about the “what could have beens” all the time. Reminisce and focus on the growth that has come with it.
Attending your own funeral may seem like digging your own grave. Technically, you are, but here, you are digging your grave to allow yourself to grieve. To grieve for all the failures and the despair for all that could have been, for all that you could have been. To dig your grave is to mourn your pain. And in mourning that pain, you are mending all the shattered broken pieces that are left of you.
But for all this to go, you do not only dig, you also need to accept. Accept that in these funerals, you are not just grieving for the versions of yourself but also grieving the excess baggage of guilt, shame, discontentment, destruction, and deprecation. Accept that once all these are dug down that hole, you need to forget that the hole ever existed. This is a way to not let yourself be dragged down and mourn in that same grave again. Remember, the last and fifth stage of grief is acceptance. You can never fully move forward if you are not able to accept things the way they already are.
The funerals of these versions of you are also the rebirth of the new versions that could be you. Make space for versions you never knew existed and new versions that you can let exist. New versions that are not built on past aches and experiences, but built on learnings full of acceptance and free of regret.
You can be so much more if you let yourself grow. You can’t help yourself grow by simply being open to all up-and-coming opportunities; you let yourself grow by leaving and closing past doors that limit or cage you in the same old tight place, in the same old patterns.
Grieve, mourn, mend, accept, make space, and grow.
Right now, it should not matter whether you were in that certain version or whether you wanted yourself to be in that version. What should matter is for you to let every version come and go and know that in any of them, that version was only a “part” of you and does not make up the “whole” you.
Co-written by Ciamy Mamuri and Amanda Domingo
