When the word of the day is random, you can pretty much expect my thoughts to wander, and wander, and maybe even wonder.
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger". What the heck is that supposed to mean? I'm no spring chicken, I've been through a lot in my life, maybe not what many people have been through, but I've had more than my share of woes and I'm here to tell you that that is BS...a huge stinking wad of bulls*it. My experience is that "what doesn't kill you" usually leaves you broken, bruised, scarred, unable to cope and barely able to keep your head above water. I mean really, who thought of that? Then there is "God doesn't give you more than you can handle". Again, total BS. What is the point of "giving no more than you can handle"? Growth? Excuse me but I'd rather remain stagnant than have to go through the pain in order to come out the other side having grown as a person. I know, cynical.
Beneath the Darkness. How dark can a day get? When the dark never lifts, do you continue to describe it as darkness or do you just concede that it's called your life? At what point do you just say screw it? And if you do say screw it, what then? What if you've said screw it and nothing has changed? What motivates someone who is feeling hopeless to even get out of bed? Where do they look for motivation? Friends?, family?, faith?, therapy? That isn't a rhetorical question, where? I'd really like to know if someone has an idea or two to share.
How are you -or- How are you doing? When you ask someone that question, do you really want to know or are you just being socially pleasant? My theory, based on my vast (well, maybe not so vast, but I have been asked that A LOT), is that people don't really want to know. They are much more comfortable when the questioned individual just smiles and says "fine", or "ok", or really stretches the truth and says "good". Last year I had friends that lost their elementary school age daughter. These friends are not people that I am particularly close too, I haven't seen them in some time, however given the fact that we both suffered losses in 2013, we do share some common history. Now please, do not for one second think that I am equating the loss of Joe to the loss of their daughter. I don't have a child and can never fully understand how that feels just as they don't know the feeling of loosing a spouse (and I pray they never do). We've never "measured" our losses against one another, but have simply said I'm so sorry for your loss. But we do share a level of understanding when it comes to how others outside our "grief sphere" react to us, talk to us, expect things from us. Since I don't want to assume that they would like their names on my blog, I'll just call the mom, "Nellie". Nellie and I have communicated through email & Facebook for the past year and a half. In many ways, our thought processes on grief and the expectations of others is very similar. We share one very real and very common similarity. We are both so very tired of smiling and pretending we are okay. I've had that fake smile plastered on my face when in public for so long, I'm almost starting to forget what my real smile looks like. Just once, I'd like for someone to instead of asking how I'm doing, just tell me not to pretend to be ok and if I want to just be myself, to meet them for coffee, a meal or a drink sometime. That, I might actually climb out of bed for. Nellie, if you're reading this, can you and me get together sometime to be real? Hey, we might even be able to have a laugh after we stop crying. So people, next time you see someone you haven't seen in a while or you see someone who has had some recent trials or tribulations, don't ask how they are. Don't ask them anything. Just tell them it is good to see them. Answering questions is usually not high on the list of things they want to do, especially if you are just being polite and don't really have an hour or so to hear how they are really doing.
Meltdown in progress. Joe, wherever you may be, please tell me what to do.
Alone. Enough said.
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Tonight the love of my life, my rock, the reason I am the man I am, my Joe passed away. Very quietly and without pain. I am numb, devastat... -
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For regular readers, remember the days when my posts would be clever, whimsical and humorous to read?....well this won't be one of them ...
Hi, Jeff. Jean Simpson here. Not being tech-savvy, I had to sign in as "Anonymous". As someone who never has been inclined to speak my deepest, darkest emotions or circumstances to people -- at least at the time they are happening -- I don't know any advice to give you except to call your therapist, if you've not seen him/her in a while. I don't know if you ever joined a grief counseling group -- a group specifically designed to deal with death of a loved one -- or not. Sometimes you can find one through a funeral home or perhaps your therapist can suggest one. You would find persons in different stages there: some whose loss is recent, some who are in your time frame, etc. When I ask people how they are, I generally want to know; whether or not they want to tell me is up to them, I don't press. However, if I know time is short upon meeting them, I do as you suggest . . . tell them it is good to see them. And it's true: it's good to see them. If they are out and about, they are making baby steps in that day's recovery and sometimes that's all they can accomplish -- one day at a time. While acknowledging that everyone recovers at different rates, it may still be that you need more "hands on" work with the therapist or a psychiatrist who can assist with medications -- and maybe different trials of meds. I know that Tom needed a couple of different trials before the right ones were found. The only kind of spousal death I've experienced is divorce which is a different kind of loss; but it did spiral me into depression to the point that I considered driving my car into a bridge abutment in Atlanta on the way home from work one evening. The Lord provided respite for me in that dark time in the form of neighbors who invited me to spend time with them and though I did not feel very sociable, I knew that if I did not go with them, something bad might really happen. It DOES require some "faking it until you make it" and will take years; but the pain should be lessening over time. If it isn't, be pro-active in seeking help; you can't wait until it just happens upon you. Please don't read any condemnation into anything I've said but rather see it as advice from someone who's experienced something similar in effect but different in circumstance.
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