dealing with grief

I have known a lot of grief in my life. For a while there it felt like I was just being hit with death after death after death, without knowing any break. It was so frequent that I came to expect it, came to feel guilt surrounding it, as if just my presence was bringing it on.

And I’ve never handled it well. I know that. There are the stages of grief, and I just get stuck in the depression sadness stage. I struggle to move on, struggle to deal with it. The shock quickly turns to denial. I dwell there for quite a bit, take a detour through a two second burst of anger and hit depression. That deep tired low. And if I look at the main bursts of depression in my life, they have coincided with impacting deaths.

We were at a training day today, and they handed out a questionnaire on one event of grief or loss, and how you reacted to that event, the feelings you felt, and what were the good and bad things surrounding that. The bad aspects of how I reacted came in loads, eventually I managed to pull together a few good things. But it made me realise how badly I deal with events. Maybe if I can reflect on them, analyse it a little bit, I can somehow aim to make changes in the future.

Using the suicide of Kelly as an example, I made some lists. The first being the emotions that I felt surrounding that. Shock, guilt, devastation, depression, fear, pain, uncertainty, loneliness.

Helpful Ways

The good ways that I reacted to that took a little longer to pull together than I thought.
Writing: Getting my thoughts down on paper helps to validate them and draw them into existance. Show that I think they are real. It also helps try and mend the relationship that I perceive I have with them, gives me a chance to direct my emotions to them specifically, and to pour out my heart to them. It can be a way of keeping them alive, or of saying goodbye. But either way it is therapeutic for me. With Kelly, I wrote to him straight away, but I didn’t keep it up. I probably should have.

Time & Space: After it happened, I really appreciated the space that people, particularly my parents gave me. This is also something that went onto my negative list though, because it gave me the ability to isolate myself. However, I appreciate that the important people in my life weren’t telling me to hop up and move on the very next day. The silent support was invaluable.

Friends & Family: I’ve suffered intense depression as a result of grief twice, and both times I was in an environment where my friends and family weren’t around in the capacity that they normally would be. I was either in a new place, where I didn’t have close friends who really knew me, or I was out of the country with nobody. But the ability of my friends and family to rally around me and take me out to the movies, just to do stuff with me that is fun. To actually live again, is something that I really treasured.

Sobbing: I’m not sure why, but breaking down into hysterical sobbing until I can’t cry any longer really does feel somewhat therapeutic. It helps to have someone hold me, I must admit, but the act of ‘losing it’ does heaps for my soul.

Normality: I remember the desire just for everything to be normal. And then the hatred that it was. How dare the world get up every morning and go ahead with their day, and yet I craved that. Routine, the normality of things was a bit of a crutch.

Sharing Stories: Just having people to listen and tell stories with. Particularly people that knew them. Stories about how you heard, how you knew them, funny stories, the moments that you shared. It not only helps you deal with the loss, but it helps draw connections between people, and share some of the burden. Even if you are sharing the same stories time after time after time.

 Unhelpful Ways
The negative ways that I reacted were somewhat more impacting I think. These are the things that I need to try and work on in the future.

Being Strong: My need to always appear in control, always be the hard rock, the tower, the comforter has really let me down. Sometimes I need to learn that it is okay to cry, to lean on other people. After Kelly’s death, I refused to let myself cry in front of my family. I refused to be a burden on other people. I was there to help others, and not to hinder. I think this in part le to the next point.

My forced isolation: Give me a stressful event, and bam, I withdraw. I go into myself, I trust only myself and I spend time with myself. I try and avoid relationships with other people, I lose track of friends and I become a bit of a recluse. It’s generally only temporarily, but I’m an extrovert. I need people and their company to be able to survive. To be happy. This isolation just in itself brings me great pain, but when it’s added to the grief I’m feeling is almost enough to cripple me.

Invalidation of the Relationship: I am very aware of the tendency to think more of a relationship after death than what actually existed in real life. The magnification glass of recollection. And I have seen myself do it. As such, I swing the pendulum way to far the other way, and convince myself that a relationship with that person barely existed. That I didn’t love them, they didn’t love me. I wasn’t important in their life, and them not in mine. I totally invalidate the relationship, and it leaves me constantly wondering where we did actually fit. Was I actually friends with Kelly. He live really far away, I only caught up with him face to face a handful of times. Were we as close as I remember us being. Nothing will ever be able to prove that to me I guess. In the end, I need to just get over this point and accept that obviously they mattered to me, because I am devastated about their death. And it doesn’t matter whether or not anybody else actually acknowledges the relationship, though that definitely helps. I remember Helene walking up to me a few days after Rosy died, and saying to me, ‘She really loved you, you know.’ And then I broke down, that released me to mourn.

Not having a Memorial Monument: This is difficult because so many people that I love who have died have been ages away, but particularly with Kelly, this one was a kicker. There were places that we went together, places that we talked together, but after his death, there was nowhere I could go to remember him. In other cases, I could visit the crash site when I was having a really bad day, but with Kelly, there was nowhere to go. We only had a memorial, because his parents took his body and had a separate funeral. So I couldn’t even do the funeral. But his body was gone, there was no grave site or memorial garden. There was nowhere. Suddenly I had a relationship with someone, and the next second it was cut off, with no in between place. Suddenly my phone calls turn into, “Sorry, the person you are trying to call is unavailable.” And that’s all I’ve got. I still do it sometimes, and it’s been over five years, just to hear that last string that I have. One day somebody will probably answer that phone, and I won’t even have that pre-recorded voice anymore.

Stigma of Suicide: Once again, this is particularly regarding Kelly’s case. After his death, I didn’t feel like it was something I could share openly. There’s so much controversy, particularly in the Christian environment when a Christian young person commits suicide, so it’s not the kind of information you let leak easily. I think this was just another factor that pushed me further into isolation. Suddenly when you mention that it was suicide, the sympathy levels drop one hundred fold.

People’s Good Intentions: I can’t remember the amount of times that I was told to move on. Get over it. These things happen, they’re a part of life and you just have to deal with them. Well actually give me a chance to deal with them, and we’ll see how I go. They meant well, but they cut deep. To me, they were saying that I was weak, and obviously not dealing normally with the situation at hand.

Lack of Time: I tend to not give myself a chance to accept what has happened and try to come to drips with it. I try to keep pressing on. I don’t have time to sleep, or cry, I just continue living. Because I need the normality I suppose, but it has ended up being more of a hindrance than anything else. With Kelly, I found out at about 10pm, and was back at school the next day. Same with so many others. Rosy we had to fly back as soon as we heard, and then there wasn’t much time for me to just be with myself. I think I’ve found that I need that time initially. A day or two to just be a mess. And then I need time in the longer picture. I need to learn that big influential losses do change me, and I need a bit of time with family to recoup before I isolate again.

So I think the next time that death occurs, these are the things I need to do to empower myself to handle it better.
– Accept help from others (babysitting, meals, going out)
– Share my stories with shared friends
– Write out my feelings
– Take at least two days off after I find out
– Cry & Cry
– Be weak in front of other people. Trust Them.
– Gather a support network around me, and express my need for them
– Create some space that is a memorial place, even if it is just my place
– Get grief counselling sooner rather than later

Recognising that I handle death badly is the biggest step towards handling it better next time. There will be a next time, because it is just a part of life, but I will pull through it better than I ever have before. Because that’s what God wants for me. Life and life in abundance.