Not Doing Well

[drew]

Its been over a month now since my mom died, and I am starting to feel like I don't care about anything. I've gone to two counseling sessions, and the first was really good. The second...not so good. We are getting into some deep issues and I don't think I'm ready to do all that. I just wonder when life is going to be better.

I'm tired of school, I still haven't gone back to work, and I'm tired of people asking me how I'm doing. I don't feel close to God at all. I used to be such a strong Christian...in fact, I'm going to school for ministry, and I now want nothing to do with it. I hate feeling this way!!!! I feel so mean lately. I have my good moments, but it seems like under it all, I'm very cynical. I don't trust anyone or God. I feel like I've been deceived and I can't see myself ever having the same relationship with God. I've tried to just trust and have faith or whatever, but being in church makes me feel icky now. I can't pick up my Bible, and praying is a major obstacle.

I just want to move away where no one knows my story and I can just be normal! I just want to be happy. Is that so wrong?

I know that my mom is gone. I get it. But now how do I move forward with my life. I can't just go back to that person I used to be. I can't just go back to that same faith because obviously I was wrong about my beliefs. There is no formula for healing. AGHHHH!!! This just feels so awful. Can anyone relate?

[KathyG]

Drew,

I wish I could predict how long it will take before you feel better but the fact is, everyone works through grief at a different pace and no one can foretell its length.

Constantly being asked how you are begins to feel old, I know. In about another month or so, don't be surprised if people stop asking you and start expecting you to return to "normal," and "get on with your life" as though nothing ever happened. The extra attention you receive when you're newly bereaved fades away quickly, and when it does you may feel even more dejected and lonely than you do now. I tell you this not to make you feel worse, but to let you know ahead of time (based on my experience and others') what the next few weeks may bring.

I can relate to your disenchantment with your faith. It sounds a lot like what happened to me during my first marriage. My then husband had me and everyone else convinced that he was a devout Catholic. I became one too, but when my spouse turned out to be an abuser and womanizer (yet still claiming to be religious), his hypocrisy sickened me so much that I stopped going to church and for a long time, couldn't even pray. But after we divorced and then other things in my life changed, my spirituality returned - although in a different way.

You're right, you can't go back to being the person you were before, nor can your relationship with God be as it was. Loss changes a person forever. But this period of trial you're going through now may actually end up making both you and your faith stronger, after you're able to get past the hurt and sorrow you're feeling now. Right now, grief is managing you and me, and the only way we can stop that is by somehow learning to manage grief. I don't quite know what it takes to do that; I'm still learning about grief myself. But I know it can be done.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to be happy. If you can find scattered moments of happiness here and there in these dark days, enjoy and appreciate them without feeling guilty. They will help you to survive and remember that (to quote George Harrison) "It's not always gonna feel this gray/All things must pass/None of life's strings can last/And I must be on my way/And face another day."

Don't give up!

*gives virtual hug*

[shell]

Drew,

I'm so sorry for your loss. It's been such a short time since you lost her that your feelings are very normal. I lost my dad and my mom (and many others) in the past three years and I'm still trying to cope. It takes a long time. I will say that I have done some incredible soul-searching during this time and it was both very painful and very liberating at the same time. Take this time to really search your heart and mind about your life and what you want in the future. You might have been headed in the wrong direction and this is natures way of letting you know. You might find a "new path" of life that will suit you better. I think, personally, that everything has a message to it and that includes death.

You asked how you get on with your life. The only advice I can give you is to take it one day at a time. Just feel whatever you feel and cry and rant and do whatever it takes to grieve. In time, it will get "better", honestly. It's a long roller-coaster ride, but it will get easier.

A big hug,

Shell

[Cindi]

My dear sweet Drew: I've had all of those feelings. Don't want to go to work, don't want to cook dinner, don't want to do anything at all. I still frequently have these feelings. I have not question my faith, because I know its real but I am mad at God and God knows I'm mad at him. I also know that he's okay with my anger. He, if anyone, can take it. He knows that I have so many unanswered questions.

He also knows that the day will come when those questions are answered. Do that ease my pain and grief. No, it doesn't.

I'm sure that there will be many fires that I will have to walk through before I can reach that stage of acceptance.

You are always in my thoughts. I have mentioned you to several people because you impress me so much. You appear extremely driven and you are so wise for your years.

Don't be so hard on yourself. You are entitled to every feeling (good or bad) that you experience. You have all of my support. Hang in there, sweetie.

I'll tell you something else...I have three kids and can seriously say that I love them more than anything in the world. I know your mother loved you that much and probably even more. Don't forget her love...keep it in your heart.

Love,

Cindi

[allalone]

Hi Drew,

It's so hard to lose one's mother and I certainly empathize.

I am not a counsellor but your email sounds to me like you are still in deep shock. Intellectually you understand that your mom is gone, but emotionally it sounds like you are going through the full range of emotions which is completely understandable.

Rhetorically speaking, what's wrong with not caring about things for a while? Taking a break from always being a caring and loving person may be something that you need to do right now for you overall health. I'm not saying be like this forever, just do what feels right for you at this very difficult time. You have sustained a substantial loss. Sometimes we need to back away from things while we are in shock so things can begin to heal. My analogy is that if you are in a car accident and you go into shock from being hurt, you can't expect to get up and walk away from the accident and be ok. Emotionally you're devestated and in shock. It sounds like you are expecting yourself to just carry on as if nothing has happened. Being disillusioned is part of grieving. I am still going through it.

I had my last counselling session on Monday so I understand that somethings are unpleasant. Your counsellor should be helping you and not pushing you into a place where you don't feel comfortable.

It sounds like you need a break - physically, intellectually and emotionally. What do you think your mom would have said to you if she knew you were feeling this way? Would she have said that it was natural to feel this way? How would she have counselled you?

It sounds so cliche-ish to say that in time things will get better. But there is truth in that.

In losing your mother, could you look at it that your Mom is with God and perhaps both of them know that this may be necessary for you in your journey of faith?

One book that is helping me a great deal is Angel Catcher: A Journal of Loss and Remembrance. It is a guided journal where you can put your thoughts and feelings down. I was surprised what sprung out of me and how that helped.

I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm pontificating. I try to think what would I want to be asked etc to help me.

[shell]

Drew,

Allalone said it so wisely. We do need a break, to back off to grieve. Her car accident analogy was a perfect example. Sometimes I get so depressed and worried and overwhelmed and berate myself for it, and then I think of what I've been through in the last three years and realize it's been terribly traumatic. So I give myself permission to feel the way I do. If nobody else understands, too bad for them. Give yourself a break and do what you have to do to deal with all of this.

Hugs,

Shell

[rosanne]

I agree with you Shell. Feel what you feel and be o.k. with it. One minute you will cry.... be angry the next... and not want to get out of the bed the next day... it is all part of it. There are still days I have to force myself to do things. I painted my bathroom this week-end and normally I would jump on in there and paint, because I do like to do things like that, instead I layed down and took a 2 hour nap and then got up and tackled it, did I really want to do it after I bought the paint and rollers, no..... at that moment I would have paid whatever for someone to do it for me, but when I finally got in there and did it, I think it did make me feel a little better, it was a project that I needed! I found myself thinking about mom a lot while painting, what is so strange about me I can think of something now, that I somehow forgot???? I remember her trying to tell me something.. and she was to the stage you could not understand anything she was saying- and I told her mom there is nothing left to say, except I love YOU......

[shell]

Rosanne,

That brings tears to my eyes. I remember reading that sometimes people have to be told it's ok for them to go, that they are hanging on for us. So, when the hospice nurse told me that my mom was not going to be around much longer, I layed down with her and told her that I loved her more than anyone and I didn't know what I was going to do without her, but that if she needed to be with my dad and her dad and all the others she missed and loved, it was ok for her to go. She had her eyes closed and nodded, and I felt that she was relieved. She died two days later. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I think she needed to hear that it was ok for her to let go.

Hugs,

Shell

[rosanne]

Shell,

I know exactly what you mean, I had to tell my mom also- and at the time I

was telling her I did not know how it was going to impact my life, not really

or how much I was going to hurt and mourn. I wonder now, what she was trying to tell me? I wish I would have gotten something to write it down, but I don't know if she could have done that, either? I have a picture of me and mom on my screensaver at work- I look at her every day several times during the day, and I can not believe that she is really gone-

Rosanne

[drew]

Rosanne,

The night that I told my mom is was ok to die, she too was trying to talk, but couldn't. Her eyes got frantic and she kept trying to sit up and wave her hands. I was bawling like a baby, and I sat down on the bed with her and told her that it was ok. She didn't have to say anything. I then proceeded to tell her what I thought she wanted to say to me, and she calmed right down. She then put her arms out, which is a type of sing language that we worked out during those last weeks. It meant that she wanted me to put my head in her arms so she could run her fingers through my hair. Ever since I was little, my mom would sit and run her fingers through my hair everyday while we talked about what happened that day. I put my head close to her hands, and she pulled me close to her chest. I laid there until she fell asleep. That was Christmas Eve of 2007.

A few days prior to that she motioned that she wanted a tablet to write on. I gave it to her, but she was writing nonsense. None of the words were spelled correctly, and she was writing them on top of each other. Then I gave her a picture of the two of us. It was taken in late February of 2007, just 10 months before. We were out to eat for my 21st birthday. That was just after she was diagnosed. She held the picture and looked puzzled. I think she recognized us, but didn't really know that it was she and I. That's when I knew that it was almost over.

I can't help but cry when I think of those times. I hope that we can all find some kind of happiness after this. Maybe we should look to love others who are still alive the same way we love those who we have lost. I can't help but think that my mom would have wanted that.

Edited February 6, 2008 by drew

[rosanne]

Drew,

How what you wrote touched me so... I was right there with you.

I can feel your pain and those feelings so raw. How wonderful that

you and your mom had such a special relationship, like my mom and I

also, so many people don't and for that we are blessed. No one will ever

love me like she did, ever- I remember her telling me so many times, I wish

that I could be the one to take care of you when it is your time. Oh, how I

wish that could have been... she would have done it so sweetly and tenderly,

I will never be what my mom was, never! Part of me died with her, and I do

not think I will ever get that back. Forever changed... to live the rest of our lives with only memories does not seem fair to me!

Rosanne