An illustration of Menu Editor Kalliope Samaltanos in distress is shown in front of a visual that showcases a stable heartbeat. Samaltanos has been deeply affected by grief and has learned to manage the chaos that it can bring. “Working to heal from the events that have affected you throughout your life is challenging, but a key step in the grieving process,” Samaltanos said. Visual by Antonio Starks
Menu Editor Kalliope Samaltanos explains the ways grief has affected her life and how she views other people.
The word homeostasis comes from the Greek words for “steady” and “stable.” In science, it is used to describe steady internal, physical and chemical conditions maintained by living systems.
When I was 13, my mom told me the worst news of my life. This was when my battle to maintain homeostasis began.
She sat me down and explained that my dad, the man who raised me to be tough, strong and recklessly myself, had died.
Nobody around me understood. That was the hardest part. I knew going into the journey of grief that my friends wouldn’t get it, and I expected that.
What I didn’t expect was that people I held closest to my heart, my actual family, wouldn’t be able to offer the support that I truly needed.
Sure, my mother and I held comfort knowing that we both lost the same person, but at the same time, we didn’t. My mother lost her life partner. I lost my dad. We were on two different sides of the same grief, and this disconnect caused me to distance myself from everybody.
I had a hard time navigating my feelings regarding the whole situation for a long time – mostly because while some people told me to take my time, others told me it was time to get over his death after two weeks. For a while, I felt like I had no average state, no homeostasis. I was up one day and down the next, and this contradicting advice didn’t help the struggle.
But the effort to maintain a state of steady internal, physical and chemical conditions didn’t stop after I began accepting the situation. Each time someone around me would go through something similar, I felt like I was put right back where I started.
This feeling happened again and again. Like I was in the movie “Groundhog Day,” I was stuck in a loop of constant grief.
I don’t remember the exact moment it got easier, I just know that at some point it wasn’t in the focal point of my mind. There was no checklist. No list of things that needed to be completed in order to feel better. At some point, I just had to break the cycle.
I had to wake up and decide to move forward. I had to recognize that no matter how much I cried, he wasn’t coming back.
The pain was still there, and the hole in my heart that my dad’s love used to occupy remained. But, somehow, the mindset that I was trying to get better made it better.
Sure, it may get easier as the event gets farther away, but it never leaves. Some days make it feel like it’s still an open wound, while other days bring me peace. Even now, I’m still working on accepting each day as it comes along and knowing that I am allowed to feel it all.
