I've said more than once that I didn't like to ask for help, partly because I didn't want to bother other people and partly because I've always been a very independent person who likes to take care of things myself. I finally learned however that help was going to come from others whether I asked for it or not. Now I am grateful that it did because it was the little things others did for me without my asking that helped me the most. At the time, I didn't even realize that what some people were doing would prove to be a help in my effort to move forward with my life. I now know it is true that it's the little things in life that mean the most ...
Eddie and I shared a closet in our bedroom for all of our hanging clothes. After his death, I couldn't stand to walk into that closet to get myself something to wear. When I did, I was overwhelmed by the sight and smell of his clothes hanging there. I finally reached a point where I just quit going into the closet and resorted to wearing only those things I kept in my dresser drawers. I mentioned this to my mother, so one evening when she was at my house she volunteered to move Eddie's clothes to the closet in the guest bedroom. She knew I wasn't ready to get rid of his things, so she didn't suggest giving them away, just moving them. She told me to find something else to do while she moved them so that I didn't have to watch or see them. This wasn't easy for her to do because she was hurting over Eddie's death also, but she did it to help me. It only took 15-20 minutes, but this small gesture made a big difference for me.
I mentioned in an earlier entry how much the sympathy cards I received meant to me because they showed that others had cared about Eddie and allowed me to share others' thoughts about him. Those cards didn't continue coming forever, though. I remember how sad it was the first time I went to the mailbox and found that there weren't any cards there. My routine of taking them to the rocker on the front porch and reading them ended without warning. I never said anything to anyone about this, but to my surprise a few days later I received a card from my friend Peggy. It wasn't a sympathy card from someone who wanted to share memories of Eddie. It was a "Thinking of You" card from someone who cared about me, and they continued to come about once a week for a long time. Sometimes there was a note included, sometimes it was just an inspirational card, but it always lifted my spirits. Over time the cards came less often, but to this day (over two years later) they still come occasionally. I can't even put into words how much this small act of kindness has meant to me!
Sometimes help came in the form of another person making me do something I didn't really think I wanted to do. I've already said that I don't garden or do yard work. That didn't stop my friend Janie from making me get out and plant flowers one afternoon though. I remember being especially down the day she came to my house. I was just sitting on the couch watching TV, still in my pajamas. She had called and told me she was coming, but I was determined that when she got there I was not going out to plant any flowers. When she came in she refused to take no for an answer. She made me get up and get dressed. She had already been to the store and bought the flowers and potting soil, so I couldn't argue that I didn't have anything to plant. We planted flowers around my mailbox, and put the extras in pots all around my deck. It couldn't have taken more than an hour, but it apparently had an effect on me because now every spring I go out and buy flowers to put around the mailbox and on the deck without anyone making me!
Over time I've learned that whether you want it or not, help is going to come. It will come in different forms and often when it is least expected. Sometimes you won't even know until much later that something was actually helpful, so it pays to be open to others and what they want to do for you. It took time for me to understand and accept this, but now that I have I see what a blessing the help of others can be.
"Be on the lookout for mercies. The more we look for them, the more of them we will see. Blessings brighten when we count them." -Maltie D. Babcock
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
I not We, Me not Us
Something that I had not thought about but suddenly found that I had to adjust to was the fact that I was no longer a part of a couple. Everything from now on would be I instead of we or me instead of us. I had friends of my own who were single, but almost everyone that Eddie and I had been friends with together were couples. Although they all told me that nothing would change, that we would still be friends, that we would still do things together, I knew it wasn't so. There was no way things could be the same because half of me was missing.
Eddie and I had been together for almost 30 years, and losing him left a huge hole in every part of my life. There was emptiness everywhere I looked. He wasn't sitting in his recliner anymore. He wasn't in the car beside me. He wasn't with me when I went out to eat. He wasn't on the other end of the phone when I dialed his number. He wouldn't be there for our annual summer vacation to the beach. I had no idea how to fill this void in my life. I hadn't just lost Eddie - I had lost everything that we were and did together.
I also lost what I had always assumed would be our future together. Our plans for what we would do when we retired were gone. We would never celebrate another anniversary. I thought I had the rest of my life planned, but now those plans were gone. I suddenly realized that I didn't have anyone to grow old with, and that scared me. As a result of all of these changes, the uncertainty, and the fear in my life I went through a period where I "removed" myself from everyone around me. I didn't see the use in continuing other relationships because they might end just as suddenly as my relationship with Eddie had. I never wanted to experience this kind of pain again, so wasn't it better to start protecting myself now?
Of course I finally realized that it's not possible to live completely isolated from everyone. I found over time that as expected my relationships with other people changed. Some of the friendships that Eddie and I had together gradually disappeared, but in their place some new, closer, and stronger friendships were formed. I have gradually learned that while I'll never be the same person I was before Eddie died, I can be a different person now, possibly even better and stronger than I was before. It doesn't happen quickly, though. There are still times when I feel the loneliness and the emptiness, and I get scared again. It's during these times that I try to remind myself of all of the good I still have in my life - my family, my friends (old and new), a secure job, a home, my pets (who are part of my family), and faith that my life will continue to get better one day at a time. Despite how I may feel at times I know that I am NOT alone!
A Consolation Meditation
On the wings of death and sorrow
God sends us new hope for tomorrow -
And in His mercy and His grace
He gives us strength to bravely face
The lonely days that stretch ahead
And know our loved one is not dead
But only sleeping and out of our sight
And we'll meet in that land where there is no night.
All who believe in God's mercy and grace
Will meet their loved ones face to face
Where time is endless and joy unbroken
And only the words of God's love are spoken.
-Helen Steiner Rice
Eddie and I had been together for almost 30 years, and losing him left a huge hole in every part of my life. There was emptiness everywhere I looked. He wasn't sitting in his recliner anymore. He wasn't in the car beside me. He wasn't with me when I went out to eat. He wasn't on the other end of the phone when I dialed his number. He wouldn't be there for our annual summer vacation to the beach. I had no idea how to fill this void in my life. I hadn't just lost Eddie - I had lost everything that we were and did together.
I also lost what I had always assumed would be our future together. Our plans for what we would do when we retired were gone. We would never celebrate another anniversary. I thought I had the rest of my life planned, but now those plans were gone. I suddenly realized that I didn't have anyone to grow old with, and that scared me. As a result of all of these changes, the uncertainty, and the fear in my life I went through a period where I "removed" myself from everyone around me. I didn't see the use in continuing other relationships because they might end just as suddenly as my relationship with Eddie had. I never wanted to experience this kind of pain again, so wasn't it better to start protecting myself now?
Of course I finally realized that it's not possible to live completely isolated from everyone. I found over time that as expected my relationships with other people changed. Some of the friendships that Eddie and I had together gradually disappeared, but in their place some new, closer, and stronger friendships were formed. I have gradually learned that while I'll never be the same person I was before Eddie died, I can be a different person now, possibly even better and stronger than I was before. It doesn't happen quickly, though. There are still times when I feel the loneliness and the emptiness, and I get scared again. It's during these times that I try to remind myself of all of the good I still have in my life - my family, my friends (old and new), a secure job, a home, my pets (who are part of my family), and faith that my life will continue to get better one day at a time. Despite how I may feel at times I know that I am NOT alone!
A Consolation Meditation
On the wings of death and sorrow
God sends us new hope for tomorrow -
And in His mercy and His grace
He gives us strength to bravely face
The lonely days that stretch ahead
And know our loved one is not dead
But only sleeping and out of our sight
And we'll meet in that land where there is no night.
All who believe in God's mercy and grace
Will meet their loved ones face to face
Where time is endless and joy unbroken
And only the words of God's love are spoken.
-Helen Steiner Rice
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Would You Like a Glass of Water?
In the middle of grieving, looking for answers to the why question, expressing my anger, and dealing with the guilt I realized there was still business that had to be taken care of. By this time Trey had returned to work, my friends were busy teaching, and my mother was keeping Emily every day. I didn't want to bother anyone, so I decided I could take care of things by myself. These weren't things that I felt I needed to do alone like picking out the flowers and my clothes the week of the funeral. I just didn't want to ask for help. I didn't want to appear weak or needy. I was on my own now so I might as well start handling things myself - right?
The first thing I did alone was go to the cemetery office to order a marker for Eddie's grave. I never knew there were so many names for the same thing - tombstone, headstone, marker, monument. I also never knew there were so many different types of stone or so many different shades of grey to choose from. I thought I would go in, tell them what I wanted, and be done with it. I wasn't prepared for the pages and pages of choices I had to look at. It never crossed my mind that I would have to choose the writing style, the shape of the stone, and any pictures or designs I wanted engraved. I knew I wanted to keep it fairly simple. I wanted something tasteful, not gaudy (which believe me was a choice). After what seemed like an eternity, I settled on the type of stone, the color, and the style of writing I wanted. But when it came time to write down what I wanted engraved, I froze. I could not make myself pick up the pen and write Eddie's name, date of birth, and date of death. This was too real. Putting his name on that marker was going to make his death final. I guess the panic showed on my face because the man helping me suggested we take a break. He had me move to a more comfortable chair, brought me a bottle of water, then left me alone for a few minutes. When he returned I couldn't get everything finished fast enough. All I wanted was to get out of there. I could hardy breathe, and for the first time in my life I felt like I was going to faint. Once I got out to my car I had to just sit in it for a long time before I was able to drive myself home. Doing this alone was a big mistake!
The second thing I did alone was deal with the life insurance money. The envelope with the check in it had arrived in the mail several days earlier, but I couldn't make myself open it. I knew what was inside, and I didn't want to see it. This was one more thing that was going to make Eddie's death real and final. I said I did this alone, but I actually had a wonderful financial advisor who helped me through the process. What I did alone was drive myself to his office. Once I was there he opened the envelope for me, helped me write checks for the things I needed to pay off, and helped me choose where to invest the remaining money. The whole thing took a couple of hours, and by the end I was feeling the same way I had when choosing the grave marker. I couldn't breathe, I felt faint, and I suddenly burst into tears. My advisor was very patient and understanding. He said we could take a break, he got me a kleenex, and a bottle of water. Once I got myself back together we finished quickly. When I left his office I had to again sit in the car for a long time before I could drive home. Doing this alone was another big mistake!
Looking back now on these two events I've wondered one thing - does water have some kind of healing power? Both men gave me a bottle of water when it became obvious that I was upset. Since then I've noticed on TV shows whenever a person is being given bad news someone always offers them a glass of water. I know it seems silly to think about this, but it's one of those things that sticks out in your mind after you've been through a traumatic event. Wouldn't it be nice if something as simple as a glass of water could take away all of our pain?!
"And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away." Revelations 21:4
The first thing I did alone was go to the cemetery office to order a marker for Eddie's grave. I never knew there were so many names for the same thing - tombstone, headstone, marker, monument. I also never knew there were so many different types of stone or so many different shades of grey to choose from. I thought I would go in, tell them what I wanted, and be done with it. I wasn't prepared for the pages and pages of choices I had to look at. It never crossed my mind that I would have to choose the writing style, the shape of the stone, and any pictures or designs I wanted engraved. I knew I wanted to keep it fairly simple. I wanted something tasteful, not gaudy (which believe me was a choice). After what seemed like an eternity, I settled on the type of stone, the color, and the style of writing I wanted. But when it came time to write down what I wanted engraved, I froze. I could not make myself pick up the pen and write Eddie's name, date of birth, and date of death. This was too real. Putting his name on that marker was going to make his death final. I guess the panic showed on my face because the man helping me suggested we take a break. He had me move to a more comfortable chair, brought me a bottle of water, then left me alone for a few minutes. When he returned I couldn't get everything finished fast enough. All I wanted was to get out of there. I could hardy breathe, and for the first time in my life I felt like I was going to faint. Once I got out to my car I had to just sit in it for a long time before I was able to drive myself home. Doing this alone was a big mistake!
The second thing I did alone was deal with the life insurance money. The envelope with the check in it had arrived in the mail several days earlier, but I couldn't make myself open it. I knew what was inside, and I didn't want to see it. This was one more thing that was going to make Eddie's death real and final. I said I did this alone, but I actually had a wonderful financial advisor who helped me through the process. What I did alone was drive myself to his office. Once I was there he opened the envelope for me, helped me write checks for the things I needed to pay off, and helped me choose where to invest the remaining money. The whole thing took a couple of hours, and by the end I was feeling the same way I had when choosing the grave marker. I couldn't breathe, I felt faint, and I suddenly burst into tears. My advisor was very patient and understanding. He said we could take a break, he got me a kleenex, and a bottle of water. Once I got myself back together we finished quickly. When I left his office I had to again sit in the car for a long time before I could drive home. Doing this alone was another big mistake!
Looking back now on these two events I've wondered one thing - does water have some kind of healing power? Both men gave me a bottle of water when it became obvious that I was upset. Since then I've noticed on TV shows whenever a person is being given bad news someone always offers them a glass of water. I know it seems silly to think about this, but it's one of those things that sticks out in your mind after you've been through a traumatic event. Wouldn't it be nice if something as simple as a glass of water could take away all of our pain?!
"And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away." Revelations 21:4
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
"When It Rains"
I've quoted the Bible, Max Lucado, and Helen Steiner Rice in many of my previous writings. I'm going to do a 180 degree turnaround and quote someone totally different in this one ... Kid Rock. I don't like all of his music, but some of his songs are very good with very meaningful words. I've listened to one in particular many times and always feel like the words could have been written about me. "When It Rains" ...
"Like a deer in the headlights, I stood frozen in my tracks
And the weight of the news, it nearly broke my back ...
Now when it rains it pours
Wish I didn't know now the things I never knew before ...
Like a deer in the headlights, I stood frozen in my tracks
And the weight of you not here nearly broke my back ...
And the tears they felt like a monsoon
Underneath the cold fall moon
Somehow God put his hands on your shoulders
Way too, way too soon ...
Now when it rains, it pours
Wish I didn't know now the things I never knew before ..."
This song pretty much says it all about how I felt in the beginning and how I still feel about some things now. When I first found out what had happened I was literally like a deer in headlights - frozen, unable to move or comprehend what was going on around me. Hearing the news that Eddie was dead was almost more than I could bear, and over time it nearly killed me along with him. I wish now that I didn't know the things I never knew before all of this happened in my life. I wish I didn't know about alcoholism. I wish I didn't know about suicide. I wish I didn't know about grief. I'm by no means an expert on these subjects but I now know way more than I ever wanted to know.
"Like a deer in the headlights, I stood frozen in my tracks
And the weight of the news, it nearly broke my back ...
Now when it rains it pours
Wish I didn't know now the things I never knew before ...
Like a deer in the headlights, I stood frozen in my tracks
And the weight of you not here nearly broke my back ...
And the tears they felt like a monsoon
Underneath the cold fall moon
Somehow God put his hands on your shoulders
Way too, way too soon ...
Now when it rains, it pours
Wish I didn't know now the things I never knew before ..."
This song pretty much says it all about how I felt in the beginning and how I still feel about some things now. When I first found out what had happened I was literally like a deer in headlights - frozen, unable to move or comprehend what was going on around me. Hearing the news that Eddie was dead was almost more than I could bear, and over time it nearly killed me along with him. I wish now that I didn't know the things I never knew before all of this happened in my life. I wish I didn't know about alcoholism. I wish I didn't know about suicide. I wish I didn't know about grief. I'm by no means an expert on these subjects but I now know way more than I ever wanted to know.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Am I Crazy?
"I'm past the point of going quietly insane. I'm getting quite noisy about it. The neighbors must think I'm mad. The neighbors, for once, think right." -Peter McWilliams, How to Survive the Loss of a Love
About six weeks after Eddie's death, I came to a conclusion - I was most definitely going insane. I seemed to have lost the ability to do even the simplest things. I couldn't write a check, address an envelope for a thank you card, make out a grocery list, feed the animals, fold clothes, find the channel I wanted on TV, put on my make-up, fix my breakfast, change a light bulb ... the list goes on and on. I remember one night in particular when my mother had to help me change the sheets on my bed because I had no idea how to get them on! I had been doing this basic chore for 30+ years, but suddenly I had no clue how to accomplish the task. My memory seemed to have disappeared. On more than one occasion I got lost while driving. I would either completely forget where I was going, or I would suddenly look around me and have no idea where I was or how I got there. I couldn't concentrate or think anything through. I couldn't focus on what was going on around me. I seemed to be "floating" through each day. I had no concept of time - my time was measured in how long it had been since Eddie's death (one day since he died, one week since he died, one month since he died).
I became extremely irritable during this time. I went from wanting to talk to others about what had happened and how I felt to not wanting to speak to anyone about anything. I didn't want to answer the phone or go to the door. I became obsessed with replaying and reliving the events of the day and night that Eddie died. I went back to denying that he was actually dead. I believed he was just away on a trip. I thought I heard his truck in the driveway. I thought I saw him working in the yard. I thought I smelled his cologne in the bathroom. I was paranoid about losing someone else, especially Trey. By this time he had returned to work and had started doing things occasionally with friends in the evenings. I couldn't stand the thought of him being out on the road especially after dark. I paced, prayed, and cried until he came home. I couldn't find happiness or enjoyment in any activity, even spending time with my granddaughter. I believed I was suffering from depression beyond what is normal for the grieving process.
I also had increased, intensified physical symptoms. I was exhausted from a lack of sleep. I felt sick from not eating right. I experienced anxiety/panic attacks where my heart would race and I would have trouble breathing. Sometimes I actually had to remind myself to take the next breath. My nerves tingled to the point that I couldn't stand for anyone to touch me. At times I felt like I was literally going to crawl out of my own skin. I've watched legal shows on TV where people pleaded not guilty to a crime due to temporary insanity. I began to understand what that meant - I could have done something during this time and not known how or why I did it. My entire world was turned upside down, and I had no idea how to straighten it out.
"Lean on, trust in, and be confident in the Lord with all your heart and mind and do not rely on your own insight or understanding. In all your ways know, recognize, and acknowledge Him, and He will direct and make straight and plain your paths." Proverbs 3:5-6
About six weeks after Eddie's death, I came to a conclusion - I was most definitely going insane. I seemed to have lost the ability to do even the simplest things. I couldn't write a check, address an envelope for a thank you card, make out a grocery list, feed the animals, fold clothes, find the channel I wanted on TV, put on my make-up, fix my breakfast, change a light bulb ... the list goes on and on. I remember one night in particular when my mother had to help me change the sheets on my bed because I had no idea how to get them on! I had been doing this basic chore for 30+ years, but suddenly I had no clue how to accomplish the task. My memory seemed to have disappeared. On more than one occasion I got lost while driving. I would either completely forget where I was going, or I would suddenly look around me and have no idea where I was or how I got there. I couldn't concentrate or think anything through. I couldn't focus on what was going on around me. I seemed to be "floating" through each day. I had no concept of time - my time was measured in how long it had been since Eddie's death (one day since he died, one week since he died, one month since he died).
I became extremely irritable during this time. I went from wanting to talk to others about what had happened and how I felt to not wanting to speak to anyone about anything. I didn't want to answer the phone or go to the door. I became obsessed with replaying and reliving the events of the day and night that Eddie died. I went back to denying that he was actually dead. I believed he was just away on a trip. I thought I heard his truck in the driveway. I thought I saw him working in the yard. I thought I smelled his cologne in the bathroom. I was paranoid about losing someone else, especially Trey. By this time he had returned to work and had started doing things occasionally with friends in the evenings. I couldn't stand the thought of him being out on the road especially after dark. I paced, prayed, and cried until he came home. I couldn't find happiness or enjoyment in any activity, even spending time with my granddaughter. I believed I was suffering from depression beyond what is normal for the grieving process.
I also had increased, intensified physical symptoms. I was exhausted from a lack of sleep. I felt sick from not eating right. I experienced anxiety/panic attacks where my heart would race and I would have trouble breathing. Sometimes I actually had to remind myself to take the next breath. My nerves tingled to the point that I couldn't stand for anyone to touch me. At times I felt like I was literally going to crawl out of my own skin. I've watched legal shows on TV where people pleaded not guilty to a crime due to temporary insanity. I began to understand what that meant - I could have done something during this time and not known how or why I did it. My entire world was turned upside down, and I had no idea how to straighten it out.
"Lean on, trust in, and be confident in the Lord with all your heart and mind and do not rely on your own insight or understanding. In all your ways know, recognize, and acknowledge Him, and He will direct and make straight and plain your paths." Proverbs 3:5-6
Monday, June 6, 2011
The Guilt
It wasn't your fault. There's nothing you could have done to change what happened. You couldn't have known. Don't blame yourself. You have no reason to feel guilty. I heard all of these repeatedly from family, friends, and counselors during the days and weeks following Eddie's death. I knew in my head they were right. Common sense told me I didn't have the power to control what happened. But my heart wasn't listening. My heart told me I knew Eddie better than anyone so I should have seen this coming. I had lived with him for over 25 years. I knew he was an alcoholic. I knew he was depressed. I should have known what he was planning. I should have been able to do or say something to prevent what happened. I should have gone with him that evening. I should have insisted he come home when we talked on the phone. I should have gone out looking for him like I usually did. If only ... I should have ... Why didn't I ...
Whereas anger, if expressed appropriately, is a positive emotion during grief, guilt serves no purpose at all. It is a natural emotion following a death, particularly an unexpected tragic one, but it doesn't help you recover from the loss. Guilt can occur for many reasons ... regret over things that weren't said or done; unresolved feelings; a need to take responsibility for the death; the belief that it's more acceptable to blame our self than the one who died; the need to take control and make sense out of what happened. During the grieving process, our thoughts are not very realistic, so it's easy to get caught up in blaming our self for the death. For a time we may actually believe that we had the ability to change the past, to alter the course of events that led to the death. We may even feel guilty that we are alive and our loved one isn't. Guilt results from our hurt and anger. If it's just a passing emotion, it's not detrimental to the healing process. "It is a great grace of God to practice self examination; but too much is as bad as too little." (Teresa of Avila)
If you can't let go of the guilt though, it prevents you from moving forward. I know because that's what happened to me. I not only blamed myself for Eddie's death, I blamed myself for not being able to help him overcome his drinking problem. Through my counseling I realized that my guilt went way back to a time long before Eddie died. I loved Eddie; I supported him; I helped him; I encouraged him; I stayed with him through the good and the bad - but he never stopped drinking. In my mind there must have been more I could have done. I failed at helping him, and I felt guilty about that. I had to work through that guilt before I could even attempt to get through the guilt I felt about his death.
I had been to AA meetings, group sessions, and counseling sessions. I had read all of the books on alcoholism. I even spent five days in a rehab facility with Eddie. So I knew all of the things about living with an alcoholic - drinking is their choice; nothing you say or do will make them stop; you can't love them into not drinking; you can't guilt them into not drinking; what they do is beyond your control. Despite hearing, reading, and experiencing all of that for years, I still felt like I could/should have done more.
It has been over two years, and I sometimes still struggle with the guilt. When I least expect it and for no apparent reason, the questions will suddenly pop back into my mind. I start to ask myself again why didn't I, what if I had, shouldn't I have done this, couldn't I have changed things? If I let myself dwell on it, the guilt will begin to take over again. I have to push it from my mind, refuse to listen to the questions, and force myself to concentrate on something else. I can't tell anyone how to get past these feelings of guilt. I can only tell you that you have to, because if you don't they will eventually destroy you. It may take counseling, prayer, constant reminders from family and friends, reading, meditating, repeating phrases to yourself (It wasn't my fault; I did everything I could; It was out of my hands). Whatever it takes, you have to find it, do it, and stick with it until you are able to forgive yourself for what you think you did or didn't do. Only then can you continue to move forward in the grieving process.
"My guilt has overwhelmed me like a burden too heavy to bear." Psalm 38:4
"Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regrets, but worldly sorrow brings death." 2Corinthians 7:10
Whereas anger, if expressed appropriately, is a positive emotion during grief, guilt serves no purpose at all. It is a natural emotion following a death, particularly an unexpected tragic one, but it doesn't help you recover from the loss. Guilt can occur for many reasons ... regret over things that weren't said or done; unresolved feelings; a need to take responsibility for the death; the belief that it's more acceptable to blame our self than the one who died; the need to take control and make sense out of what happened. During the grieving process, our thoughts are not very realistic, so it's easy to get caught up in blaming our self for the death. For a time we may actually believe that we had the ability to change the past, to alter the course of events that led to the death. We may even feel guilty that we are alive and our loved one isn't. Guilt results from our hurt and anger. If it's just a passing emotion, it's not detrimental to the healing process. "It is a great grace of God to practice self examination; but too much is as bad as too little." (Teresa of Avila)
If you can't let go of the guilt though, it prevents you from moving forward. I know because that's what happened to me. I not only blamed myself for Eddie's death, I blamed myself for not being able to help him overcome his drinking problem. Through my counseling I realized that my guilt went way back to a time long before Eddie died. I loved Eddie; I supported him; I helped him; I encouraged him; I stayed with him through the good and the bad - but he never stopped drinking. In my mind there must have been more I could have done. I failed at helping him, and I felt guilty about that. I had to work through that guilt before I could even attempt to get through the guilt I felt about his death.
I had been to AA meetings, group sessions, and counseling sessions. I had read all of the books on alcoholism. I even spent five days in a rehab facility with Eddie. So I knew all of the things about living with an alcoholic - drinking is their choice; nothing you say or do will make them stop; you can't love them into not drinking; you can't guilt them into not drinking; what they do is beyond your control. Despite hearing, reading, and experiencing all of that for years, I still felt like I could/should have done more.
It has been over two years, and I sometimes still struggle with the guilt. When I least expect it and for no apparent reason, the questions will suddenly pop back into my mind. I start to ask myself again why didn't I, what if I had, shouldn't I have done this, couldn't I have changed things? If I let myself dwell on it, the guilt will begin to take over again. I have to push it from my mind, refuse to listen to the questions, and force myself to concentrate on something else. I can't tell anyone how to get past these feelings of guilt. I can only tell you that you have to, because if you don't they will eventually destroy you. It may take counseling, prayer, constant reminders from family and friends, reading, meditating, repeating phrases to yourself (It wasn't my fault; I did everything I could; It was out of my hands). Whatever it takes, you have to find it, do it, and stick with it until you are able to forgive yourself for what you think you did or didn't do. Only then can you continue to move forward in the grieving process.
"My guilt has overwhelmed me like a burden too heavy to bear." Psalm 38:4
"Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regrets, but worldly sorrow brings death." 2Corinthians 7:10
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Why?
Why ... such a short, simple, little word. The dictionary defines it as "for what reason, cause, or purpose". Unfortunately the answer is not nearly as simple as the word. When we lose a loved one we immediately ask why. We want a reason for their death. We want to know what purpose their death serves. In the case of a suicide the need to know is even more intense. We not only want to know why our loved one died, we also want to know why they chose to end their own life. I spent a lot of time asking myself, my family, my friends, my counselor, and God these questions. No one could give me an answer.
I wanted to know what I had done to deserve what was happening in my life. I wanted to know if I was being punished for something I had done. I wanted to know why I hadn't been able to stop what happened. I wanted to know why God hadn't stopped what happened. I have always been used to having some control and power over my own circumstances. Most of the time I had answers to my own questions. This time however I was helpless. I didn't have power, control, or answers, and this made me mad. I soon learned that not having an answer to this why question added to the anger I was already feeling.
I knew Eddie was an alcoholic. I knew he was suffering from depression over his inability to overcome his drinking problem. I knew he felt like a failure for letting his family down every time he started drinking again. I never knew it was serious enough for him to end his own life though. For anyone who has never considered suicide the idea of choosing to end one's own life is beyond comprehension. Through my counseling and the reading I've done, I learned that in most suicide attempts it is more about ending the pain than it is about ending the life. Unfortunately when the suicide is successful both are ended for the victim, and the pain begins for those left behind.
Just as I wasn't sure whether it was OK to be angry at God, I also wondered if it was OK to ask God why. After all, He does have the power and control, so if I asked Him why then I was questioning His wisdom, wasn't I? I soon learned that while it was OK to ask God why, I had to be ready to accept that I might not receive an answer. I had to be willing to accept silence from God, and that's a hard thing to do. We pray for things we want, things we desire, and things we think we need. We expect most of our prayers to be answered. But if we are realistic we know that many prayers go unanswered. We pray for safety for others, peace in the world, an end to hunger and child abuse, yet there are still wars, natural disasters, pictures of starving children and news reports of children being abused every day. The only answer we have to these is that we have to trust and have faith that one day in another place we will either understand or lose the need to understand. I eventually realized that having an answer to the why question wouldn't change anything. No answer would be sufficient to ease my pain or lessen the hurt. No one could ever give me an explanation that would help me accept or understand what had happened, so what was the purpose in continuing to ask? So instead of asking God why, I had to start asking God to help me make my own peace with what had happened.
"Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?" Psalm 10:1
"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." 1Corinthians 13:12
I wanted to know what I had done to deserve what was happening in my life. I wanted to know if I was being punished for something I had done. I wanted to know why I hadn't been able to stop what happened. I wanted to know why God hadn't stopped what happened. I have always been used to having some control and power over my own circumstances. Most of the time I had answers to my own questions. This time however I was helpless. I didn't have power, control, or answers, and this made me mad. I soon learned that not having an answer to this why question added to the anger I was already feeling.
I knew Eddie was an alcoholic. I knew he was suffering from depression over his inability to overcome his drinking problem. I knew he felt like a failure for letting his family down every time he started drinking again. I never knew it was serious enough for him to end his own life though. For anyone who has never considered suicide the idea of choosing to end one's own life is beyond comprehension. Through my counseling and the reading I've done, I learned that in most suicide attempts it is more about ending the pain than it is about ending the life. Unfortunately when the suicide is successful both are ended for the victim, and the pain begins for those left behind.
Just as I wasn't sure whether it was OK to be angry at God, I also wondered if it was OK to ask God why. After all, He does have the power and control, so if I asked Him why then I was questioning His wisdom, wasn't I? I soon learned that while it was OK to ask God why, I had to be ready to accept that I might not receive an answer. I had to be willing to accept silence from God, and that's a hard thing to do. We pray for things we want, things we desire, and things we think we need. We expect most of our prayers to be answered. But if we are realistic we know that many prayers go unanswered. We pray for safety for others, peace in the world, an end to hunger and child abuse, yet there are still wars, natural disasters, pictures of starving children and news reports of children being abused every day. The only answer we have to these is that we have to trust and have faith that one day in another place we will either understand or lose the need to understand. I eventually realized that having an answer to the why question wouldn't change anything. No answer would be sufficient to ease my pain or lessen the hurt. No one could ever give me an explanation that would help me accept or understand what had happened, so what was the purpose in continuing to ask? So instead of asking God why, I had to start asking God to help me make my own peace with what had happened.
"Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?" Psalm 10:1
"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." 1Corinthians 13:12
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