It’ll make sense later…
At the end of August, I lost an earring. And people – I cried.
Stage one: Depression.
Real melodramatic moment for me, but I guess most people will understand when I point out that it was a hand-me-down from my mother, thus having significance far greater than the actual size of the object.
Kim K having a meltdown over her lost earring = literally me, minus the $$$ and the diamonds. Gif via GIPHY.
Stage two: Anger.
I grieved and, inevitably, I self-blamed. But mostly, I lost all understanding. How the hell did this happen to me? Am I destined to be an inherently absent-minded klutz, not matter what I do? Not having an explanation for loss may be the most bewildering feeling of all.
Stage three: Bargaining.
Then I negotiated with my feelings. I hoped that maybe someone had found my earring on the street and kept it, at least then it would still have a “life”. I imagined a cute pirate rat with a pierced ear; anything but being lost in nothingness.
“Pirate rat” – Illustration by Kat J. Weiss
Stage four: (Self-)Denial.
I reminded myself that some people lose their homes in fires, wars and other catastrophes, and that an earring was nothing compared to that. I was gently reminded that the things that people tend to miss most in those homes are also sentimental items, which on the surface might seem to have no meaning. Comparing pain is always a slippery slope, and it’s a habit I’m working on reducing.
Stage five: Acceptance.
Over the following weekend, I gradually resigned to the fact that I’d forever lost something precious – mostly the meaning it represented – and that nothing could ever replace it. I accepted that I could not continue to assign blame to myself; people just lose things sometimes, and it isn’t their fault. With an underlying ambivalence, you could say that I found closure.
Stage six? Creativity?
I think in cases like these, the tendency to make up a mythical entity as the reason for your loss can be super helpful – like the sock monster or a wormhole of some sort. It’s a creative way to take away the burden.
Life went on, with my new part-time job and new freelance assignment – a poster for a children’s play called “Großvatersessel”. It is about a five year old girl who receives a hamster when her grandfather “disappears.” Searching around his old armchair, she discovers stories and memories from his past.
Thumbnails and final for the poster Illustration for TUFA Trier. The final design will be done on their side.
Stage seven? Plot twist!?!
On the day that I finished the thumbnails for the poster, I was watering my house plants when I discovered my earring on an armchair(!!!), just skimming the crevice between armrest and seat cushion. It must have fallen there while I’d carried out the exact same routine at that exact place the previous week.
So, um… basically, this whole time I was feeling like an absolute failure, a drawing was sending cosmic messages prophesying my life? Or since, I myself am the creator of the image, I in fact am the prophet?! Lol no just kidding, and besides, I am not a particularly spiritual person.
But I do invite any kind of interpretation into this chain of events because why not, it was kind of weirdly awe-inspiring and I’m just elated.
Earring back in safe hands.
Personally, I am more of a looking back and learning kind of person, so here are my take-aways:
People lose things sometimes and it’s not always their fault.
Losing sentimental items is a legitimate reason to be sad. If this happened to you, I’m giving you a virtual hug right now.
Self-blame is poison
Comparing grief, beyond a healthy dose of empathy, is poison
Always check your couches and armchairs; they are treasure troves of lost things!