Tag: what is normal

Peace, Love and Grief… All the Feelings

Usually I write about where I am currently on this journey, but this week I want to reflect a little bit on where I was and how it felt. Why? Well, I know when I first started on this path, I felt so alone. The feelings and emotions were so overwhelming. And because I was the first person in both our families and amongst my close friends to lose a spouse, I didn’t really have anyone to turn to and ask if all these feelings were normal? (As if anything in my life would ever be “normal” again.)

Just a few months after Bruce died, I was struggling to find someone… anyone… who could understand… and wrote the following…

“I feel like I am going crazy. My emotions have been on hyper mode since this started. If I am sad, it is extreme. If I am happy, it is extreme. If I am angry, it is extreme. No matter the emotion, it is to the extreme. It seems like the only way to have any control at all is to shut them down completely. I hate it. Can anyone tell me if this is a normal part of grieving?”

Many people responded that while they hadn’t been there, they thought it was normal… A few told me to pray… Others said they were praying for me… Some told me to seek counseling, while others used words and phrases they had heard elsewhere were meant to bring comfort. In other words, they were all trying to be supportive, but no one really had an answer.

So, I set out to find some answers. I can remember reading books, blogs, articles – anything I could get my hands on that was written by other widows and widowers. In those, I learned what I was experiencing was very normal. I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t going crazy.

I read about women who shaved their heads, packed a bag, and went on a cross-country hike in an attempt to outrun their grief. I read about men and women who fought suicidal thoughts, and others who immediately moved out of their homes just to get away from the memories. I read about many who lost their faith and others who dove in deeper.

So many people I read about struggled to control their emotions and talked about the outbursts… And others who tried to stuff all the pain deep down inside and shared that they couldn’t connect with anyone anymore… So many talked about looking at life going on around them, like an observer looking in, unable to even feel human anymore.

All of this probably sounds really dark, but it actually brought me comfort… It was a relief to know that I wasn’t crazy… All of my feelings were “normal” for someone grieving. My struggle to control my emotions, my struggle with my faith and being “left behind,” my struggle with relationships… All of it… It was such a comfort to know I wasn’t alone… and I wasn’t crazy.

I remember when I first started writing this blog, someone said told me that no one wanted to hear about my pain, how hard grief was, or how I felt. However, I thought it then, and I think it now – she was wrong… There will always be someone who needs to hear… I guess that’s why I am writing this today… Because if even one person reads this and can connect with the loss of stability that comes with grief, then I hope they will also find comfort in knowing that they aren’t alone.

You have many sisters and brothers who have gone before you and remember…

There is no judgement in what you are feeling… We remember. There is only empathy and compassion for where you are… And where you must still travel.

And while it may not seem possible, (at least, I didn’t think it was), if you are patient with yourself, the day will come (eventually), when you can manage this new “normal” that life has thrown your way. True, there will always be a hole… an emptiness in your heart and soul, but it won’t always control every thought and emotion… And until the time comes when you realize you are able to truly live your life again, know that we are here… We care… And we understand…

Death changes everything…

For a while that is all I can think about.

Time changes nothing…

On its own.

This is a journey

That will not end,

But I can learn how to direct my path.

 

If I do not pay attention to each individual step,

If I look too far ahead,

If I get tired and stop,

If I look backward too long,

I will become lost and scared.

 

I did not choose this journey.

I can’t even say that I like this journey.

But I would rather choose my path now,

Than try to find my way later

Because I gave up what little choice was mine

And became lost.

 

It is okay to stop and rest or cry when I am weary,

As long as I do not lose track of where I am.

It is okay to peer behind me to see where I was,

As long as I remember to look forward as I move.

It is even okay to look at what is ahead,

As long as I am doing so as preparation, but remain focused on where I am.

 

Death has changed everything,

And I must learn how to adjust.

Time changes nothing

On its own – that is my job now.

 

This is a journey – it is mine;

I must own it to survive it.

~ Linda, September 2013

 

What about you? Where are you on your journey? Do you remember that initial shock and all the overwhelming feelings of loss? Are you in that initial state of loss? Do you need someone to validate your feelings and give you some support? If so, you’re not alone… We all know this journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. *Who knows? Your story may 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Time Moves on But My Heart Doesn’t

Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
Other times I smile and laugh at the thought of our memories.
You were always that way…
making me smile or laugh when I wanted to cry…
when the pain was so bad.
Now my heart hurts…
truly, physically hurts with the missing of you.
I feel your soul;
I know you are here.
But I need to see your eyes and your smile;
Feel the comfort of your arms.
I want to breathe in your presence
and feel your love in all these things.
But that isn’t to be…
All I have are the memories;
The memories of our love…
And…
Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
~ Linda, Oct. 19, 2013

I remember when I wrote that poem. It had been 10 months since Bruce died. For the rest of the world, their lives were back in order. (At least, that was my perception.) But, not for me. My life was still upside down. I was still experiencing all the ” dreaded firsts,” and I still had 2 more months to go before I would finish that “first year.”

I don’t know why, but there is a notion or a feeling that if you can get through (aka survive) that first year, it will all be okay… You will feel better… Life will start to feel normal again.

That, my friends, is a lie.

I remember starting that second year with so much hope that I would feel better – cry less and hurt less; laugh more and live “normally” again. But what I found was after that first year, I still grieved… I still cried, and I still hurt. Life was marching forward, but I still seemed to be out of step with the rest of the world. I tried to laugh more… I tried to live a “normal” life.

But… what was “normal?” How could I live a “normal” life when I still hurt so bad?

On January 23, 2014, (after the one-year anniversary of Bruce’s death) I wrote:

“Good morning, Babe… Sad today… miss you so much. I know I’m doing better ’cause I have more and more good days, but today I am sad… went to bed sad, cried most of the night and woke up sad… Something about walking into the bedroom and knowing that I was crawling into this bed without you… again, was too much. I just miss you! I try not to let myself dwell on it too much because it gets me too down, but other times, I need to let it out… It’s been forever since I felt the touch of your love, Babe.”

A few days later, on February 4, I wrote:

“Hi Babe! Loving you this morning… I cried myself to sleep (again) last night. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever not cry myself to sleep… or miss you so bad my heart feels like it will rip in half. Still kinda teary this morning. The thing is – now (because it has been more than a year) I feel like I have to hide it… It is so frustrating!”

And three years after he died, I found myself still struggling and wrote:

“Hi, Babe! I am really missing you tonight! How can this be real? Here I am – 3 years later – and still half expecting you to walk through the door – or – to wake up and find this has been one horrible nightmare. I sit here at my desk looking at pictures of us and I remember all the smiles and all the love. I’ll never understand why it had to end or how to make the hurting stop. I think… No, I know, what we had was so special and I’ll never stop loving you! It took us so long to find each other that we never took ‘us’ for granted. I have no regrets for how we spent our time together. But I never thought our time together would be so short. It went by so fast.”

Even now, as the six-year anniversary of Bruce’s death is on the horizon, I find that I still miss him… and it still hurts… I’ve just gotten better at shoving it down deep when I am with others… Only feeling free to feel what I feel when I am alone (and writing).

In fact, I’ve written about it several times over the past few weeks. I still miss Bruce so much and going through this current challenge without him has been beyond hard. When I am scared or frustrated, I think about how wonderful it would be to feel his arms around me and to hear him whisper in my ear, “It’s going to all be okay.” To feel that I was a priority to someone who loved me unconditionally… To feel that I could cry when I needed to without worrying about being “strong” or being a bother… To be totally and completely honest about my fears…

But, Bruce is gone… Time has moved on. Life has brought (and will continue to bring) more challenges… And I must learn to take each one in stride without Bruce by my side.

Why am I sharing this? What is the point?

My point is this – the pain never really goes away. It is as if you broke a leg but never had it set correctly… it just healed as it was. You learn to live with it… You learn to laugh and walk and maybe even run, but it is never the same.

Over the last few years, I have learned to crawl, then walk… and even run. I have learned to laugh again. I have learned to dance again. I have learned to live life again. I have learned to trust that God (or the universe or whatever you want to call it) has not abandoned me, is not against me nor am I being punished… In fact, I truly believe, God loves me and has my back.

I know I was blessed… I know I still am. The fact that we had a life together at all was a miracle. But the sad reality is Bruce’s purpose on this earth was completed before mine. (Oh, how I hate it that!) But I have come to understand that my life now is determined by my perspective… And my perspective is my choice…

I know there are still lessons for me to learn (like this current path) and a purpose for me to explore. (Otherwise, I wouldn’t still be here.) But, I also know I don’t have to let go of my love for Bruce in order to do any of those things.

In other words, time does move on… Life moves on… but my heart… well, my heart doesn’t have to…

If you have experienced loss, you have probably learned lessons, too. This is our community, please share your story with us. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving a note.*

Maybe you learned something different… There is no one right answer. 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… What is the opposite of sad?

Through this blog I have met (both virtually and physically) many other widows. The conversation each time is eerily similar to the topics discussed here… While my experience is mine, it is also very similar to thousands of other widows’ (and widowers’) experiences… That is one of the reasons I started writing this… I needed to know and I wanted others to know that we are not alone… Our experiences are more “normal” than one could have ever imagined.

While I have gotten better at ignoring it, I have found over the past several years there is one consistent theme which can be very frustrating… The idea that after a certain amount of time has passed, we shouldn’t be sad. This can be worded several different ways, and I have written about those before… I have heard everything from the direct, “Don’t be sad…”

“… You’re not the only one to ever lose someone.”

“… He’s in a better place.”

“… You know you can choose to feel better or have a better attitude.”

“… It looks weak.”

“… Be strong.”

“… What will others think?”

To the craziest one, “You have to stop being sad, because I (the other person) can’t handle it anymore.”

In the beginning, these phrases made me nuts… maybe even angry at times. I was grieving. I was sad. Why couldn’t people understand that and simply walk beside me for a while? A genuine, caring hug could go such a long way, but the only people who seemed to understand that were those who had walked this journey before me…

As time has passed, I have come to realize that this reaction most likely stems from several things, but the two main components seem to be: 1 – They haven’t been where I am and have absolutely no frame of reference for the pain; 2 – It is a real struggle for them to watch someone they love hurt so intensely, while knowing they can’t fix it.

In other words, it is a response born out of desperation and fear. I can actually understand that… That makes sense to me. I believe they aren’t as frustrated with me as with their own inability to “make it better.”

What they don’t realize (and why it hurts so badly on this end) is these responses feel as if they invalidate our pain and our loss. Plus, there is something else they don’t realize… Something it took me years to realize…

Even when you get to the point where your grief is not the only emotion in your world… Even when you have learned to smile again, you realize that just because you are not sad all the time, doesn’t necessarily mean you are happy. Simply put, despite what we learned as children, the opposite of sad is not necessarily happy. This particular journey in life is a bit different… It shakes you down to your core and changes you in ways you can’t understand.

So, I propose something I learned from a Harvard psychology professor… “The opposite of sad may not be happy. It may simply be ‘not sad.’” Happy, on the other hand, is a completely different emotion, and its opposite may be “not happy.”
I’m sure there are some people who might argue this. However, there are also a few who will understand… and most of those will be those of us who have actually experienced the grief of deep loss.

Before I lost Bruce, “happy” was my norm. Now, “happy” is an experience… “Neutral” seems to be my norm most of the time… a quiet, peaceful enjoyment of the people around me… For me, that is my opposite of sad.

While I am sure there are those who don’t understand or agree… Since “neutral” is not “happy,” they might interpret it as “sad.” Perhaps, they have trouble understanding this because they want us to be as we were before. However, I can never be as I was before… I can’t un-feel this pain that has reshaped my life.

I am still me, but I am different now. Bruce will always be a part of me… and a part of me will always grieve his loss. For me, I have found that the opposite of sad has been simply learning to open my heart to other emotions…

It is learning to be at peace with “what is” rather than grieving for “what was.”

There is a peace that comes with acceptance.
And a love that is always remembered.
~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with other’s reaction to your loss? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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!