Tag: Mental health

There is no limit


I have received many words of encouragement and support from so many people.  Some just say “hugs” and other’s offer advice.  One of my most loyal supporters is a lady called Miss Morgan’s Mom – She lost her 16-year-old daughter in a senseless accident.  She lives her loss and grief pours from her posts.  I remember one of her first posts I ever read on her blog she was counting the days (still does) and her grief was so raw and all-encompassing.  I recall thinking “Oh God, is this what awaits me?”  At the time I could only comment “hugs”….  A couple of posts ago she wrote that 14.5 months after Morgan’s death she is finding it more difficult to blog.  People want her to move on….  get on with life.  
 
Last week, a mere 3 weeks after my most precious child’s death I was told by people “Let her rest….Concentrate on the boys” ; “don’t let the boys see you cry…”
 
On Thursday I cried in front of the boys as I did this morning in the supermarket.   I will not apologise for my tears.  My child deserves my tears.
 
I realize people want me to move on because I scare them when I am sad.  They are used to me being strong, fighting for Vic’s life, always laughing, always in control.
 
On Saturday Esther, Vic’s sis, asked me “So what does Google say?  When do sisters start feeling better?”  I replied “Never.  you just get used to the pain”
 
I read this amazing post and had to share it.  Reposted  http://missmorgansmom.wordpress.com/2013/02/04/there-is-no-limit-to-ones-time-for-grief/
 

THERE IS NO LIMIT TO ONES TIME FOR GRIEF

broken heart When someone is grieving i believe in my heart that many if not all outsiders have the best intentions to help I truly do, but understandably  they have no real concept  on how long and how often the mourning need support or just understanding. People that lose loved ones, I have come to find that there is no limit to the time it takes for each individual to find their new normal. I think that sometimes when people view the lives of the sorrowful, they think that the person or people grieving should have come to terms with their loss after a certain amount of time. I have found  this not to be true, I have sadly gained the knowledge that every moment to everyday is different. It is so hard to help people understand that we need to grieve as long as it may take. We all seem to have our own way to do this, whether it is to submerse our time into our work so that our mind has little time to feel the pain, or that we become some what of a recluse trying to understand our torture. There is no right or wrong way to grieve, there are no rules.  I personally try to battle the pain by writing my feelings at that moment. I think some may not understand and my God am I thankful for that because I would not wish this on anyone. It is so important to me to put out there that when you see someone struggling and they may seem as if their path is destructive, it might not always be as it seems, sometimes we must  look outside the box! This is  because anyone who is grieving that keeps having emotions whether negative or positive has not given up the fight. I cannot identify my grief with anyones else, I have learned to accept the death of my father and step mother and although it still hurts, I have learned to move forward. I have found that burying a child is a completely different kind of grief for me anyway. I am moving forward, I am fighting to become a new normal.   I have found that  not just me but all other parents who are trying to win the fight are on this similar  path and they may feel like there is no end, keep fighting. I want to post this link for those that may be fighting this fight to maybe offer support that you are not alone. I also want to post this for people who may just want to understand some of the process grieving parents may be going through. I am also posting some writings from this site that have heart felt meaning to me. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Grieving-Mothers/162680380444494 no limitDear Clueless I would like to share with you my pain but that isn’t possible unless you have lost a child yourself and that I wouldn’t want you to have to experience. So with that being said, I would like to say this. I will try to my best to understand you if you try to understand me. I lost my child. My life will never be the same. I will never be the same again. I will be different from now on. I no longer have the same feelings about anything. Everything in my life has changed from the moment my child left to go to heaven. I will, on some days be very sad and nothing you say will changes that so don’t feel like it is your job to make me feel better on those days, just allow me to be where I am. When you lose a child you not only lose your reason for living, you lose the motivation to go on. You also lose your sense of self. It takes a long time to come to some kind of understanding for why this has happened, if ever. Of course we who have lost children know we have to go on but we don’t want to hear someone else tell us too. Especially from someone who has not lost a child. It makes me and anyone who has lost a child want to say who are you to tell me that? Did you bury your child? I don’t want this to sound like I don’t appreciate everything you say because I know you mean well, but I just want you to appreciate where I am coming from too. I want you to understand that some of the things you say hurt me and others like me without you really knowing it. I know it must be pretty hard to talk to people like myself, not knowing what to say. That is why I am writing this letter. If you don’t know what to say, say nothing or just say I’m sorry. That always works for me. If you want to talk and say my child’s name feel free I would love to hear her name anytime. You not saying her name didn’t make me forget it, or what happened to her. So by all means say her name. When special dates come or holidays come please forgive me if I’m not myself. I just can’t keep it up on those days. I may wish to be by myself so I can think about my child without putting on a front. Most of all I want you to know I’m having a hard time with the death of my child and I am trying my very best to get back into life again. Some days it may look like I have accomplished that, and other days like I am at square one. This will happen the rest of my life periodically. There are just no words to explain the living hell this feels like. There are no words that could ever do it justice. So please bear with me and give me time and don’t put your own timetable on my grief and let me be the person I am now and not have to live up to the person you think I should be. Allow me my space and time and accept me for me. I will try my best to understand you. Love, Your Friend in Grief forward

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You Will Never Get Over it


Vic as a little girl
Vic as a little girl

I have subscribed to a club…The Grief Club”.  I will share the very first post I read with you.

You Will Never Get Over it

By

Corinne Edwards, Guest Author

 

We had a shocking loss of a young person in the family.  My 21 year old son died in an accident. The next day, a friend came to see us.  His son had been killed by a drunk driver. His words surprised me.  They didn’t sink in until much later.

“You will never get over this.  If you know this in advance, you won’t try.  You will not struggle and condemn yourself for not succeeding.”

He was right.  His words became a consolation.  I stopped trying. That’s why I decided to write this article.  I wanted to share my friend’s words with  you. The old normal is gone.  There’s  a hole in your heart and your being that will never be filled.

I related to so many things the women confided.  I read their stories – did the same things.  I also felt my son around all the time.  I went to psychics to try to contact him.  I even attended a séance. I prayed for messages.  I dreamed about him often. I imagined I saw him in a crowd of people.   I wouldn’t let him go.

One psychic told me that those who have gone on to the other side are allowed to stay around for a while to help and comfort, but they won’t be here forever. I started feeling him less and less.  I dreamed about  him only once in a while.  But  he’s never left my heart.

After a period of intense pain, you’ll be different.  The person you were is gone.  It is an amputation.  Eventually, a new person will emerge.  It will be the new normal. A new life will start to take shape, but the limb you  lost won’t grow back.  You will have something in common with a soldier who bravely runs a marathon despite having a prosthesis for a leg.

As my friend said, you’ll never get over it.

This new person will have a life which includes peace, love  and even laughter, community and new friendships.  It can and will happen in your own time.

I believe there is a tiny gift inherent in every unspeakable tragedy. One is compassion.  I could not have written that article for widows if I hadn’t experienced the grief of losing my husband.  I would not have been able to connect.

Another gift is knowing how to help someone who’s in  extreme pain.

The world doesn’t give you much time.  You hear platitudes like “Life goes on” and “Thank God you have other family.”  They say it as if another person can  replace the one you  lost.  You get about two months to get over it. The truth is, they don’t know what to say.  What they don’t know is that all they need to do is listen.

Part of the gift is giving someone else your time to listen far beyond the window  normally allowed.  You know they have no one to talk to.  You reach out more. You know how important it is to tell the story, over and over.

The sharing of this gift, when you are able, will comfort you. You’ll stop struggling to get over it.  You’ll trust that if you’re  still on this earth, there must be a reason. The new normal person will find that reason.  It may not  exist yet, but every day it becomes more real..

© Corinne Edwards

http://www.personal-growth-with-corinne-edwards.com

I have so far to go!  

I miss being Mommy


My beautiful Vic
My beautiful Vic

I so desperately need to articulate my pain and yet I cannot.  Words are inadequate and empty.  There are not enough adjectives in the english language to describe my indescribable pain and longing for my precious child.  Yet, my cyberfriend Judy has articulated my emotions pretty accurately.  So in the absence of my own words I am posting Judy’s email to me.

Thank you Judy.  Your words do help.  What a horrible area to be experienced in – the world of grief….  

Judy is right.  I just want my child to be with me.  I miss her more than I ever imagined I would.  The void is like a never-ending well of despair.  I miss being a grandmother and I miss being a Mommy….I am only a back-up mother now.  An empty vessel.

Thank you all for your love and support.

Tersia,

I am not telling you that I know how you feel. I cannot know. Grief was so isolating and lonely that even when I had people caring about me, I remember my mind screaming that I would give anything to have my child back! It was such a horror. I could not concentrate upon anything. I could not read a single paragraph and know what I had just read. I could not sleep. I did not want to be alive anymore.
 
You are so supported – I see message after message flying across cyberspace to hug you. I see a lot of messages telling you to stay strong. I think what is typical for being a caregiver is the constant suppression of emotion. You were Vic’s caregiver for decades. You learned how it was important for you to be strong.  I see how concerned you are about staying strong for everyone around you. I remember when I decided I wasn’t able to be strong anymore.
 
So staying strong might pose a conflict for you. At some point, all of your emotions might start to surface. It is terrifying. I was tired of hearing how my child’s suffering was over. Inside I screamed, “Why did my child ever have to suffer!!?” That was the beginning of my feeling very angry. Anger was a difficult place to be in, but it is a stage of grief. Men and woman grieve very differently, too. Navigating that was more than I could handle, so I retreated to be with other grieving mothers. 
 
I’m wondering if my words are helpful. I guess I just want you to know that you are on a road that you will survive. You know that. Life will never be the same. You know that. Some people cannot enter the doorway of grief. They succumb to it. You have entered the doorway and are plunging ahead into the darkness. It hurts so much!
 
Love, Judy

 

“We never cry in front of the children …..”


Jared and Vic after the “news” today

Babies are emotional beings right from birth. As parents we know that babies respond to emotional expressions such as smiling within the first few weeks of life. Within three months babies can react to and express joy, interest, anger, sadness and disgust.

Babies and young children express their emotions without reservation.  In time, they however learn to control and even conceal some of their feelings, especially when they are sad, frightened, or angry.

As adults we lose our ability to communicate spontaneously.  We become guarded.  Many of us may still be comfortable expressing positive emotions, such as joy, pride and happiness, but will refrain from sharing feelings that we fear may make others uncomfortable.

The grieving process that walks hand in hand with terminal illness however catapults the bravest of us into a whirlpool of emotions ranging from fear, sadness and anger to irrational hope.

We are what we are.  If you are naturally an introvert it will be very difficult to reach out to others when we or a loved one battles a serious or terminal illness. This makes the grieving process difficult for us.  People who are comfortable in expressing their emotions are usually more able to reach out to others for the support and reassurance that they need.

When I am scared or angry I withdraw within my safe place where no one is welcome or allowed. In fear I will push people away from me.  Anger is different – I will lash out and go for the jugular.  Fear for my family will bring out the most primal instincts in me.  I will do anything to protect them.

To maintain control I hold tightly onto my emotions– I know that if I allow myself to falter even a little, I may collapse into a whimpering heap of tears.  It has taken superhuman efforts to allow Vic to see some of my pain.  Well, I fool myself that she only sees some of it.  Vic knows so well how my life will screech to an end the day her life ends… We have spoken about absolutely anything and everything.  She knows my heart.

Tomorrow morning Jared will have a lymphoma biopsy.

Today, when I saw the tears of fear form in Vic’s eyes, I said “Stop!  We never cry in front of the children”

Tomorrow I will smile, support and encourage.

Tonight I will weep for my beautiful grandson, his mother and his little brother……..I will weep for his grandfather and everyone who loves and admires him.

When I wipe my last tears I will retreat to my safe place…..  Tomorrow I will smile, support and encourage.