Tag: despair

Peace, Love, and Grief… One Day at a Time

When it comes to death and the aftermath of losing someone we love, grief is the word we tend to use the most. According to the dictionary, grief is defined as deep sorrow, usually in response to death. I can’t argue that… It is true. However, this week I realized there is another word that seems to be a little more accurate. It is defined as the complete loss or absence of hope. This time of year, that sounds a little more precise, especially when everything around me is about family and joy. Yet here I am without my other half, and all I seem to feel is… despair.

Most of the time, I feel like I have come such a long way since that awful night years ago. However, lately, I seem to cry whenever I am alone. I still miss him. I would still give anything to have him next to me. Just the two of us snuggled on the couch, gazing at the lights on the tree, and talking about nothing and everything. But… for me… for us, that will never happen again. That is where I fall apart and the despair happens…

“Psalmists failed to capture this kind of despair… I want to dig a hole with my bare hands and stay there in a field and in the damp cold, and tell the world that I am so angry, so sad, so longing, I can hardly breathe.” ~ Sarah Bessey, Out of Sorts

When we were married, I always thought we would live “happily ever after.” We were so right together. How could we not live happily ever after? But that was not our destiny… As it turns out, “happily ever after” is something only found in fairy tales and Disney movies. So now, I find myself wondering how to reconcile my never-ending longing for this man I still love with all my heart with the fact that he is gone, and I am here all alone.

This week as I was reading Sarah Bessey’s book, Out of Sorts, the chapter was about her grief. For me, there was a common language there. I seemed to be able to relate to every word. When she talked about her own grief journey, I kept thinking, “Yes! Exactly! That is where I was… And if I’m honest, sometimes still find myself.”

“At the beginning of my journey…, I was filled with grief for my own small concerns, yes, but also for the world. I had run out of words. And faith. I was grieving in a personal and spiritual way… Silence was akin to prayer for me for a long time. I simply moved through my life with silence in my spirit, waiting on God. I couldn’t pray, but the part of me that had once prayed was waiting. Simply waiting.” ~ Sarah Bessey, Out of Sorts

That was me, too! … And this week, it still is… at least a little bit… Struggling to put my emotions into words, and finally just resorting to a desperate silence. I am trying so hard to enjoy this precious season, and most of the time, I feel like I am enjoying myself. But then, I hear a song or see something that touches my heart and the one person I want to share it with isn’t here. It is more than just grief that follows that realization… That is despair.

I guess I am learning that some years, the holidays are going to be just a little bit harder than other years. Some days are harder than other days. And some moments are harder than other moments. I need to remind myself that it’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to cry. I don’t need to apologize or make excuses to anyone else for what I feel. I simply need give myself permission to take a few deep breaths, feel what I feel for as long as I need before moving on.

“Let yourself grieve. When something ends, it’s worthwhile to notice its passing, to sit in the space and look at the pieces before you head out.” Sarah Bessey, Out of Sorts

This grief journey is not an easy path for any of us… and this time of year, it is just a little bit harder. I don’t think any of us wants to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined – especially during the holidays. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since he passed. These next few weeks will definitely hold many challenges.

Thankfully, we are not alone… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.
This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

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Peace, Love, and Grief… It’s Okay to Feel What You Feel

“… Emotions such as grief, fear, and despair have gained a reputation as ‘the dark emotions’ not because they are noxious or abnormal but because Western culture keeps them shuttered in the dark with other shameful things like personal bankruptcy or sexual deviance.” ~ Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark

Did you know that according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual IV, also known as the “psychiatrist’s Bible”, patients who grieve longer than two months are considered depressed and it is suggested that prescription drugs should be considered for treatment? Good grief! Are you kidding me?? That has got to be one of the most ridiculous things I have ever read!

Honestly, at the two-month point, I was just beginning to realize that this was not a dream… There was no healing those first few months… I am pretty sure I was in shock during that time. I don’t remember a lot, except being thankful for a daily routine of working out, going to work, returning home, dinner, and bedtime. (Then, getting up and doing it all over again the next day.) Being able to simply “do the next thing” in my day without thinking about it was what kept me functional.

We all are different… We heal differently… We grieve differently… And we all have a different timeline for those things. For anyone to decide that everyone should “magically” be healed within a certain (very small) window, is just silly.

For me, I know for the whole first year I was simply focused on breathing… just surviving from one day to the next was my goal. I couldn’t think any farther ahead then the next moment.

I remember dreading all the “firsts”… For me, that order was the first Valentine’s Day, his birthday, Easter, summer and the beach, our anniversary, Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, New Years, and the awful anniversary of his death. I dreaded each one for weeks before the actual day. Then, trying to figure out what to do… how to spend the day… or if I even wanted to recognize the day at all was overwhelming.

Most of those days, I ran away and ignored the world…

I remember traveling alone for the first time. It was a business trip, but it still felt strange… No one to take me to the airport. No one for me to call and say, “I made it here safely.” No one to greet me when I got back home. It was hard… I especially remember trying to just get my breathing under control as I drove to the airport in the wee hours of the morning.

I also remember wearing black for that entire first year. To the rest of the world, it probably wasn’t even noticeable… everyone wears black these days, and as a woman in the business world, it just looked like any other professional woman in any other office. The thing is I didn’t do it to make a statement… It was simply a reflection of how I felt at the time. It wasn’t until somewhere in the second year, that I started to realize the color was starting to set my mood rather than reflect it. Then, I knew that it was time for me to stop… but not before that.

I have written many times about people being uncomfortable with my grief and wanting me to “put it aside”, so to speak. I’m not sure if that is for my benefit as much as it just makes them more comfortable not to be confronted with it. (I understand… It’s hard to see someone you love struggling with sadness and grief.)

In fact, many of you have written to me stating the same thing. Yes, we are sad… We are grieving… But the best way to heal is not by ignoring those feelings or shoving them down deep inside. Honestly, I found expressing my grief really was best for me… And I did so with my writing, by sharing stories, in my dress, in my paintings, and so many other ways that I can’t even begin to name them all.

My point, though, is this… If you are grieving, then do so with no apologies to anyone else. Let yourself feel what you feel. Then, be honest about those emotions so you can keep moving forward. Like me with the black clothes… It was a good thing in the beginning because it let me express myself in my own quiet way. However, once I realized it was no longer an expression of my feelings, but instead was swaying my emotions, I knew it was time to stop…

That is what I mean… It’s okay to feel what you feel… And no one has the authority or right to tell you when to stop… You just keep doing those things that help you move forward… Even it it’s baby steps… And that’s okay!

Whether you are new to this group or whether you have been visiting with us for a while, I am sorry for the reason you are here. I hate it for you… and for all of us. This is not a path any of us want to be on. Yet, here we are. This journey is an odd one – filled with challenges we never imagined. We never know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger. That can sometimes make this journey feel even more lonely. Yet, there are other times when I know I am not alone at all. We are here for each other. This journey holds both challenges and peace-filled moments for each of us. Yet, it is actually our love for those we have lost that brings us together to this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another.

I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Here comes the sun

For most of this week I remained in the same sad mode I was in last week. That isn’t normal… Usually I shake it off after a day or so. I’m not sure why this melancholy mood stuck around… but it did.

It seems weird to me that after 2.5 years, I can still feel so sad… It is a sadness that goes all the way to my core. And sometimes, I am at a loss as to how to shake it.

This week I closed the door to my office to “deal with it”… But that didn’t work. So I opened my door to talk to the world and try to forget… but that didn’t work either. I wrote in my journal, worked in my garden, went to the beach, and played the piano – all in an effort to get it out… but nope – nothing.

It’s been too long to still think anyone wants to listen to me cry. So instead, I tried telling jokes or listening to everyone else’s issues and stories. This week, I celebrated birthdays and new jobs and listened to bad days and arguments… but still this grief and sadness continued.

My kids just happened to be calling more this week. (I guess God put it a bug in their ear on my behalf.) To be honest, they have been my biggest blessing… especially this week. One of my neighbors noticed that my house was staying closed up and came on over to sit with me a while… she, too, has blessed my week more than she will ever know.

I posted on my personal Face Book page that I felt lost… I did. I wasn’t depressed. I was sad… I’m still grieving – There’s a huge difference in my book. Some people get it… others want to fix it. They all mean well, but I’m not broken, so I can’t be fixed. This is a journey, and sometimes I am just looking for some extra support when I am struggling.

Some days I ask God to help me… other days I am mad at him all over again. Is this normal? I don’t know… probably. Who knows what is “normal” when it comes to grief.

The hard part for me is that I don’t have anyone I am particularly close to that has lost a spouse. My parents and Bruce’s parents are both still here. My sister and Bruce’s sisters are still happily married. None of my closest friends or my coach have ever lost a spouse. So many times I find myself wishing my grandmothers were still alive so I could talk to them. They would have some good advice, I’m sure. As it is, I really don’t know who to ask what is normal… so I am lost… and I am very much alone.

I’ve read so many of the books, and there are some great ones out there. I’ve researched grief (because research is whatI do) and found a lot of good solid information. I did the support group thing… and found it wasn’t my thing. (I wasn’t real comfortable sharing my deepest feelings with a room full of strangers… that was a nightmare for me!)

Ultimately, I believe it comes down to this… time. Yep – time. And for anyone grieving the length of time will vary. For some people, it may be a few months; for others, it may take years. We’re all different. This week I discovered that according to research, the average time for a widow to feel strong and ready to move ahead is 12 – 14 years… and that’s an average! Wow! That speaks volumes to me.

What I know for sure is I need to just be patient with myself. I need to stop pushing myself – if I feel sad, then I feel sad. When I feel happy, then (yay) I feel happy. Go with it. Feel what I feel – one moment at a time… just be careful not to drop too low or drag anyone down with me.

Thursday night I stumbled across the video below. I’ve always loved this song and this particular rendition has touched my heart. Since Bruce died I’ve said that there is hope in divorce but not in death, but this song reminds me that there is always hope… as long as I believe in it.

http://jewishstandard.timesofisrael.com/israeli-duos-perfect-here-comes-the-sun/

Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.