Anger
Anger bleeds into the Grief process...
...penetrates and takes hold.
Annoyance, irritation, resentment, exasperation, fury, rage. Attention to stem the flow of one,
then turns to yet another, springing forth, having been unattended, unanticipated.
I grapple to understand the nuances of this co-conspirator to Grief, an emotion that threatens to hijack my movement forward in Grief, tenuous as it seems.
This emotion, associated with loss of control, negativity. Why is it here? Now? ...At the same time I am...
reaching for grace amongst my Grief,
aiming for gratitude amongst my angst,
struggling for composure while my spirit fights.
Pain
Grief Pain
Grief’s physical pain is shocking, unexpected, excruciating.
Shocking. Because I could not remember anyone ever talking about physical pain, emanating from Grief.
Excruciating. Because the physical sensation was like one’s muscles being ripped out of the body, scraped along the cement, and shoved back in.
And my Grief pain was ALL OVER MY BODY. Intense, sharp and burning - seemingly all at once.
Grief pain forced the holding of breath, the bracing of the body, ...in order to survive the day, survive the night. It was there as I woke up (along with that ever-present pit feeling). It ebbed and flowed throughout the day, depending on my activities, my distractions; it settled in with me at night when I fell into bed.
Grief pain was exponentially aggravated by the sudden loss of familiar touch. Loss of regular, predictable companionship. Ironically, it is touching, hugging, falling asleep with someone, that can bring comfort. Yet ironically, it is that specific type of comfort that is immediately cut off, after loss of a partner. So the physical and emotional pain is amplified in those long hours of night. The physical pain sets in, grows, and at times is the precursor to self-medication with both helpful and harmful remedies.
I was jarred by the early recognition of being a singleton, thrust into alone-ness, swimming in an ocean, with nothing to cling to. And so the Grief pain grew, in tandem with layers of confusion in this new state of alone-ness.
How is it that no one talked about this? Was it taboo? Are we embarrassed?
Jim Cuddy, Musician, Singer-Songwriter once said "Pain is the most clarifying thing. Joy can be very unfocused, but pain embodies everything inside you." Such true words. I would add that the embodiment of Pain reminds us that we are alive, that we have loved and lost, and the intensity of that pain cries out to be acknowledged, tended to and healed.
Pain - ....in Questioning
Could You Not Have Saved Him?
Grief pain may be especially poignant for those whose Loved-one died in a way that society feels preventable or unjust.
A young vibrant person tragically taken too soon.
A death resulting from a late or misdiagnosed health condition.
A person succumbing in a random accident.
A suicide, a drug overdose.
I wrote the following reflection after my husband’s death, after a devastating encounter with a well-meaning acquaintance. And the painful QUESTION...
COULD YOU NOT HAVE SAVE HIM?
And there it is. So raw, like skin being ripped off.
Someone asked the question your heart could never face. Someone brave? Rude? Uninformed? Completely ignorant in the ways of suicide?
Either way, - they asked. And it tears away at the brain – because who can face a question like that, while in a state of deep Grief, missing your beloved so much that you want to crawl into bed and never get up?
But don’t we as a society need to explore this very important question? No matter how brutal? I offer you the analogy of the scuba divers trying to find the dead body at the bottom of a mucky river. A gruesome task for sure. But it has to be done. Someone has to do it. And the dead body in this analogy is the “answer” to our question Could YOU Not Have Saved Him? No matter how awful, no matter the condition of the body in the river, the searching and finding must happen. There must be bravery. Through the dark, cold, deep, murkiness.
Even if you would rather sit and look at the water surface, pretty and safe with its gentle ripples, sun glistening off the surface. But we must force ourselves to dive down, all the way, to get “the body”/ to get the answer to that question Could YOU Not Have Saved Him? (could we not have saved him?). Could we as a society, not save those who feel the best solution is to commit suicide? Only then, can we all move ahead, heal and grow in empathy, compassion, understanding.
And yet, this is the question that I have not been able to even ask myself because it is so incredibly bewildering, like being hit by a baseball bat. The question is terrifying...what if I were 24/7 acutely tuned in AND an EXPERT at suicide prevention AND a super-human, knowing exactly what to do to save him? After all, I lived with him!! So. So. Hmmmm. Blank. Void. Am again sobbing. Crumbling.
Navigate these reflections I must. Yet - not alone.
We all must – the widow, the bewildered friends, the lost family, society.
We must answer the questions.
FEAR
My Playlist
Mumford and Sons
Ghosts That We Knew
Fear
There is a moment, when you have lost a grip on Grace, where you cannot feel God, when you are all alone, and your brain cannot process what has happened. And yet, you are alive, breathing, and in your hell, must face the situation of an abandoned life traveler, your dear Love dead, missing, no longer in reach.
Fear’s iron grip takes hold, starting in your core, moving upwards and through your body, your mind.
A period of time has passed where the processing of the death has mercifully been staved off. But that period of time is done. Your mind, that incredible, thinking, processing organ of the human body, steps forward to say, I’m not fooled. Something horrible has happened. And YOU. You will need to face this.
And that can feel terrifying.
Fear
It’s the character from Passengers Jim Preston running through the space ship Avalon, when he has just begun to understand that he is alone, the only one awake, and he’s terrified, panicking, desperately yelling – but no one answers.
Fear
Like that little child lost in a big department store – abandoned? Forgotten? And that child is terrified; where is mommy (or daddy)? And the tears flow, the terror sets in, ....so small, so scared. Because you're only 4!
You remember that feeling? Yes, that feeling! And yes, that is the same feeling. Only in the case of death of a loving partner, there is no reuniting, and the terror continues.
Fear
I fall to my knees, bracing my core, and scream NO! NO! as if by shrieking my objection, time will rewind, God will relinquish, my beloved will rematerialize. I beg for help, I scream in protest. I plead to negotiate. Then shattered, defeated, my body folds onto the earth, voice silenced. My fear, for now softened. Grief, my familiar companion, once again creeps over my spirit, and in exhaustion, I sleep.
Fear, Anger, Grief and......Decorum
You're Going to Be OK
The problem with all-encompassing raw Grief is occasionally you’ll be forced to put your raw emotions and thoughts OUT THERE and these thoughts can be shocking to hear (both, for your own ears to hear; and also, for your friends to hear). And you can’t take the words back! Your friends can’t un-hear the words!
Yet, you don’t want to un-say the words because they describe how you actually feel.
Yes it’s really disturbing and you feel exposed for the awful person you perceive you have become,.. because the tragedy you have witnessed actually changes you, changes your brain, your perceptions, make’s you dead inside – save for these ugly swirling thoughts, emotions.
…But, for weeks you try to get by with grace, be the lady, smile and be nice– you try hard to appear normal and “appropriate” per society’s ethos and norms. But this takes a lot of work/energy. Because you actually have a storm ,…- no, a level 5 hurricane,- inside you, and simultaneously, have been gutted and hollowed out. So, you just know, at some point, you can’t keep up the false decorum.
Then suddenly, poof, you’ve been exposed. The anger, fear, pain and ugliness spills out.
During a sudden state of Fight and Flight, you can’t hold it up any longer, - you can’t hold in the ugliness, and you hear yourself say things that would shock.
So you feel equal parts (a) falling from grace and embarrassed and (b) fuck it, I really needed to say that because that’s how I FUCKING FEEL. Someone dear and precious and valuable has died tragically, and someone needs to be blamed, punished; someone needs to suffer just as much as he did, or more!! – because that’s the only way this death can be rectified, - that’s the only way the universe can be righted, because right now, the universe is lopsided. To feel all nice, and full of grace sometimes feels disrespectful, for the person who so terribly suffered and died.
Sobbing. Crumbling. Defeated.
And through all this, you can see through the fog, that you are so blessed and so lucky, to have dear angels (and supermen) as friends, who see you melt down, and yet they still somehow love you and forgive you, for sounding like a lunatic.
Through all this, you realize you’ve been buoyed by this amazing team around you, who have their own life challenges and tragedies. That we are all in this crazy life together and will find a way to make it through.
You realize you’re just some poor person grieving. And Grieving you must. Yet, you will also, someday, heal, and someday, yes, be OK.