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Posted

I am sure we all wish there were some magic words to help you stop the pain but there just are not. Most of us here would agree that you must just let the tears flow when they may. You have found a very safe place here and very caring people. I am so very sorry for your loss, that you have found a need for this site, and I hope you find some peace in our words. Please continue to come here to post and read all you want.

Rachel

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Posted

I wish any of us could tell you what you most want to hear. The pain seems overwhelming. I know what you mean when you say you feel like you can't breathe. I don't know when you are going to feel better.

People who have been here far longer than I have say the pain never entirely goes away--that grief sneaks up on them and reduces them to tears out of nowhere some times. But they also say that over time you learn to cope with it better. Four and a half months after my wife's death I begin to see some bits of truth in what they say. I still cry every day. Sometimes I am so angry at the powers of the universe that I shout at heaven. Sometimes it hurts so badly I want to have a heart attack and be done with it.

I hate the waking up alone in the morning. I hate the solitary meals. I hate the looks I get from the people in the breakfast place who knew both of us when I take my niece or an old student out to eat there and they think I am dating younger women. I hate the silence in the house--but I equally hate being out among the crowds of people who laugh and glory in their coupleness. I hate the long empty drives, filled with the long empty silences. I dread going to bed at night.

But then a friend calls me on the phone to tell me her husband is out of the hospital--a former student from three decades ago sends me a note that says he has been thinking about me lately and how he learned something new about facing life from watching me at the wake and at the funeral--a colleague sees me in the hall and thanks me for some imagined kindness--a parent tells me how moved their child is by what we talked about in class this week, how I have changed their lives and made both of them better.

Or a former student of Jane's sends me a card that says how important Jane was in convincing her that a woman could do science. Or her sister calls to tell me how important it is that we find ways to help the memory of what Jane did live on beyond her. Or a student lets slip that they are going to dedicate the yearbook to her--or create a garden in the courtyard in her memory. Or I get a letter from Dana Farber Cancer Institute that someone else has made a donation in her name.

Or I discover the mums have survived this New England winter, that the crocuses and daffodils are in bloom--or the tulips are rounding toward that sudden burst of color that always surprises me as much as the sudden arrival of the leaves on the maples and oak trees in the yard

Or a falcon lands on the deck while I am talking to her best friend--and stays there until the conversation ends, peering in through the slider in intense interest. Or I read about a hummingbird being seen just south of here--and know that soon I will fill their feeders and greet them back home--as I know my love will greet me when we are, at last, together again--when the work that remains for me to do here is finished and I, too, can fly home.

And I am surprised by joy in those moments as certainly as I am surprised by grief in others. It makes it possible to endure the pain to know that I can still be surprised in that way. There are small kindnesses in every hour. We do not always hear them above the sobs of our grief, but they are there--waiting for us to re-emerge into the world where we can perceive them.

For now, I will weep--as I do as I write this--when my body and mind are moved to tears. But I will also laugh when they are moved to laughter--and smile when they are moved to that. I will find joy and face sorrow. I will teach and I will learn and I will strive to make this world a better place than I found it. I will seek forgiveness for my errors--and, most importantly, I will forgive.

The day before we went into the hospital, my wife sat on the couch with me. She looked at me and she said that I had been the best husband she could have imagined for herself. She said that if I thought I had ever done anything wrong, I was to know that she forgave me for those things--though, she said, I had never done anything that needed to be forgiven. I said the same to her that day--and again the night before she died when she came back to consciousness one more time. I cannot say how powerful those moments were.

Forgive yourself, then, for mourning for your husband. It is ok to mourn, to scream at heaven--as it is for me to mourn the loss of my wife--and to scream at heaven for the injustice of her death and the life I must now face. If someone cuts you in half, it is going to hurt. And half of each of us has been amputated. Forgive yourself for screaming in pain, then. And anyone who does not get that, I pray they never find out.

And forgive your husband for dying. He did not want to go. He did not want to leave you here alone. Jane did not want to leave me here either. But we do not get a choice in these things. Forgive him.

As Rachel says above, you have indeed come to the right place. None of us wants to be here--but we are all glad we found each other. Read. Write. Be embraced by the love that is this place in this time. But also be patient with yourself. This grief has found you suddenly--it was--in some senses--built virtually overnight. But like an earthquake or a tsunami, the rebuilding will take time.

Harry

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Posted

I am so sorry for your loss. Unfortunately, we all cry...many of us daily. I did not believe anyone when they told me it gets better but at one year...it does get a bit better. I still cry daily but not like i did. One thing that helped me all year and still does is distraction....shopping, helping someone else, training my dog, I started painting lessons...all distractions but help keep me breathing. We have to be patient and be in the pain you have. It is all pretty much normal. You came to the right place.

Today I took my dog to obedience class and one of the students said, when I was practicing recall with my dog, "Mary, You have to be happier when you call him." She did not know my pain....I held it together until class was over and then sobbed on the way home because I just can't be happier....I am sad. WE are all sad but keep on trying and over time, the pain is there...for me it always will be...but most function better several months out.

mfh

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Guest Nicholas
Posted

I found this wonderful quote and added it to my website; I cry every day and most people say it is therapeutic; as for the pain, well there is no way to alleviate that - only time to diminish the debilitating hurt:

"There is a sacredness in tears, They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief ... and unspeakable love." Washington Irving

Posted

I really like your quote. I also cry daily...not as much as several months ago but daily. I just finished reading Sacred Grief by Tessman. It is along these lines...that our grief is sacred. Thanks for the quote. MFH

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Posted

I think you do cry every day at first. Then one day you notice it...you haven't cried for a couple of days...then you feel conflicted...both happy you made it without crying for a short time, and guilty that you didn't cry. But you learn it's okay and it's part of your body's adjustment to it all, and it doesn't mean you've forgotten them or betrayed them somehow. So you begin to accept there are good days and bad days, times when tears erupt, and times when smiles return, and either way is okay and normal. Crying isn't necessarily an indication of what you feel, it's more of a release valve on pent up emotion. Some people grieve without crying...it seems to be healthier if you can.

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Posted

"There is a sacredness in tears, They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief ... and unspeakable love." Washington Irving

What an absolutely beautiful quote Nicholas. I don't cry often anymore, but when I do, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

Lainey

Posted

I came across this quote-it speaks volumes.

One study found that widows with acquaintances who made it easy for them to cry and express their feelings were healthier than widows who experienced less encouragement from others to weep and discuss their feelings of grief.

  • 9 years later...
Posted

8 months ago and I feel like that everyday I cry and cry over her I just wish sometimes I could die to be with her the pain inside my heart the misery of loneliness each and every day but I cry cry every day and night it just hurts so bad.

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Posted
On 4/20/2011 at 1:34 PM, HAP said:

Four and a half months after my wife's death I begin to see some bits of truth in what they say. I still cry every day. Sometimes I am so angry at the powers of the universe that I shout at heaven.

I have not read all of the posts, but this crying is a special one to me.   I keep soft paper towels by my chair, by the computer, by my bed, in my car.  I carry some in my pocket when I shop.  Of course with the virus now, we do not go as many places.  I cry whenever I feel like it.  I walk anywhere through Walmart and I might start crying at any time.  It will be five years in October.  I cry at Progressive Insurance commercials.  If they show puppies or big dogs, I will cry.  (Somehow do not cry about cats).  I talk to Billy sometimes and I will cry.  If I am driving down the road, I find a good place to stop if it bothers my driving.  

I have not read the psychological reasons for the crying, somehow I don't care.  

Just carry tissues with you.  If anyone asks if you are okay, just tell them "memories" and you do not owe them anything else, of course you can say "thank you" but if you pause too long, you get people that want to give you advice, or worse yet..........hug you.  We don't need to get close.  No need to start a conversation either.  I cry nearly every time I go by the toy section in Walmart's. (Sporting goods).  I used to leave Billy there while I shopped.  He was such a good boy he  usually would not have left the aisle I left him in.  

And the anger.  I have to repeat my grandfather's harangue at God, cursing him in words Mama, as a tiny little girl, thought they would be hit with lightening.  Your not supposed to curse God, ya know.  Well, his personally talking, yelling, cursing a God who heard him somehow was recognition of his belief.  The family was gathering because my Grandma was dying, seven kids, cancer, surgery for left in instrument, and sepsis.  She wasn't even 30.  She outlived my grandfather between 25-30 years.  So cry and voice your anger.  I have, I do.  Sometimes I even get angry at Billy.  

Just do what comes naturally, no apology, no embarrassment, no explanation.  You owe nothing to anyone.

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Posted

Your post made me cry, Marg.  It’s so insightful and true about not worrying about anyone else’s reaction.  And we are not obligated to keep our grief hidden to make things easier for others, close or strangers.  

After another particularly hard day seeing a dermatologist that got me nowhere as I expected, I got to thinking about the term soulmates. I was missing Steve about this latest trek with medicine and how I’d love to vent to him and see his frustration as well.  I was in the bedroom and saw the framed picture we have of two wolves with that saying.  (Wolves mate for life and we both loved the beauty of them and social families they built). I got to thinking about fate.

i don’t believe in fate.  I think, if we are very lucky, we meet that someone we become soulmates with.  I dated and married other men, but never had that connection.  Steve and I didn’t in the beginning when in lust phase. It is when we started getting to know each other on the inside things changed.  I had been head over heels in love before.  Had spent endless months lost when it ended.  Could see no future.  But with him, I gave him more than my love and my heart.  I came to trust and love him in a way like no other and gave him my soul.  That was more, it was everything.  It was more than my heart, love and body.  I entrusted him with the total essence that is me.  It wasn’t conscious.  It happened naturally because he was the one.  Had I never met him, I don’t know if someone would have crossed my path and I would maybe have had a marriage and love, but nothing like what I experienced.  I wouldn’t have even known what I missed.  Why was he the one?  I don’t know, but he was.  I’ve always looked at couples and felt I.could see the ones that were soulmates as opposed to 'conventional' closeness.  It’s impossible to describe, but I see it. It’s why I think that those that had it can’t settle for anything less again.  It’s Steve or Dale or Bob or Rose Ann or Mark forever.  We may develop closeness with another, but it will never be that.  I know lightning can strike the same place twice, but not in this case. 

As I said, it was a bad day and no one came to mind but him.  I had bad days before in other relationships and I might mention it, but would handle it mostly alone.  I wish I could find the words to say exactly what I feel.  Maybe that’s because of if it because with him, I wouldn’t  have to.  Our language was our own 'dialect'.  He would understand so easily and take so much of the weight off by his existence and owning my soul.

i just gave myself a headache.  And fresh out of Steve in my medicine cabinet as always.

  • Like 2
Posted
23 hours ago, Bond said:

8 months ago and I feel like that everyday I cry and cry over her I just wish sometimes I could die to be with her the pain inside my heart the misery of loneliness each and every day but I cry cry every day and night it just hurts so bad.

@Bond  I am so sorry for your loss.  I hope you have support around you.  Have you gotten help from a professional grief counselor?  Eight months is still a very short time in the span of grief.  I want to assure you that you will not cry every day the rest of your life, although I'm sure you can't imagine it ever drying up.  It does.  How long I can't say, that is individual.  It took me years to process my grief, years more to find purpose and years more yet to build a life I could live.  That said, it is nothing like our life before...I have learned not to compare, that is invalidating and a robber.  I've often heard it said, it is not the mere passage of time that heals us, but what we do with it..  I agree.  Early in my grief I resented that I had to "do" something as I didn't want any of this to start with!  But eventually I learned it wasn't about fairness...there IS no fairness in loss, in grief, it is about giving myself the best possible chance for what is to come...for how I do this, how I survive, how I live.  Personally, it's been my observation that most of us, in early grief, just want to go be with them and care little about living, but as time passes we begin to realize we ARE surviving, like it or not, and how we do it affects US, more than anyone else.  There is much we can do to help ourselves through this...https://www.griefhealingblog.com/2014/08/grief-understanding-process.html

I wrote this article of the things I'd found helpful...the two best tips (to me) were taking one day at a time (I have to do that still) and looking for joy...which is a whole other subject in itself and difficult to understand the concept of in early grief.  It merely means not underplaying the good that DOES come our way, but grabbing onto it, no matter how small, it's not insignificant, but learning to fully appreciate even the little things...in so doing it changes us, our outlook and our response.

I do hope you'll find something helpful for you...

TIPS TO MAKE YOUR WAY THROUGH GRIEF

There's no way to sum up how to go on in a simple easy answer, but I encourage you to read the other threads here, little by little you will learn how to make your way through this.  I do want to give you some pointers though, of some things I've learned on my journey.

  • Take one day at a time.  The Bible says each day has enough trouble of it's own, I've found that to be true, so don't bite off more than you can chew.  It can be challenging enough just to tackle today.  I tell myself, I only have to get through today.  Then I get up tomorrow and do it all over again.  To think about the "rest of my life" invites anxiety.
  • Don't be afraid, grief may not end but it evolves.  The intensity lessens eventually.
  • Visit your doctor.  Tell them about your loss, any troubles sleeping, suicidal thoughts, anxiety attacks.  They need to know these things in order to help you through it...this is all part of grief.
  • Suicidal thoughts are common in early grief.  If they're reoccurring, call a suicide hotline.  I felt that way early on, but then realized it wasn't that I wanted to die so much as I didn't want to go through what I'd have to face if I lived.  Back to taking a day at a time.  Suicide Hotline - Call 1-800-273-8255
  • Give yourself permission to smile.  It is not our grief that binds us to them, but our love, and that continues still.
  • Try not to isolate too much.  
  • There's a balance to reach between taking time to process our grief, and avoiding it...it's good to find that balance for yourself.  We can't keep so busy as to avoid our grief, it has a way of haunting us, finding us, and demanding we pay attention to it!  Some people set aside time every day to grieve.  I didn't have to, it searched and found me!
  • Self-care is extremely important, more so than ever.  That person that would have cared for you is gone, now you're it...learn to be your own best friend, your own advocate, practice self-care.  You'll need it more than ever.
  • Recognize that your doctor isn't trained in grief, find a professional grief counselor that is.  We need help finding ourselves through this maze of grief, knowing where to start, etc.  They have not only the knowledge, but the resources.
  • In time, consider a grief support group.  If your friends have not been through it themselves, they may not understand what you're going through, it helps to find someone somewhere who DOES "get it". 
  • Be patient, give yourself time.  There's no hurry or timetable about cleaning out belongings, etc.  They can wait, you can take a year, ten years, or never deal with it.  It's okay, it's what YOU are comfortable with that matters.  
  • Know that what we are comfortable with may change from time to time.  That first couple of years I put his pictures up, took them down, up, down, depending on whether it made me feel better or worse.  Finally, they were up to stay.
  • Consider a pet.  Not everyone is a pet fan, but I've found that my dog helps immensely.  It's someone to love, someone to come home to, someone happy to see me, someone that gives me a purpose...I have to come home and feed him.  Besides, they're known to relieve stress.  Well maybe not in the puppy stage when they're chewing up everything, but there's older ones to adopt if you don't relish that stage.
  • Make yourself get out now and then.  You may not feel interest in anything, things that interested you before seem to feel flat now.  That's normal.  Push yourself out of your comfort zone just a wee bit now and then.  Eating out alone, going to a movie alone or church alone, all of these things are hard to do at first.  You may feel you flunked at it, cried throughout, that's okay, you did it, you tried, and eventually you get a little better at it.  If I waited until I had someone to do things with I'd be stuck at home a lot.
  • Keep coming here.  We've been through it and we're all going through this together.
  • Look for joy in every day.  It will be hard to find at first, but in practicing this, it will change your focus so you can embrace what IS rather than merely focusing on what ISN'T.  It teaches you to live in the present and appreciate fully.  You have lost your big joy in life, and all other small joys may seem insignificant in comparison, but rather than compare what used to be to what is, learn the ability to appreciate each and every small thing that comes your way...a rainbow, a phone call from a friend, unexpected money, a stranger smiling at you, whatever the small joy, embrace it.  It's an art that takes practice and is life changing if you continue it.
  • Eventually consider volunteering.  It helps us when we're outward focused, it's a win/win.

(((hugs))) Praying for you today.

 

Posted
On 4/20/2011 at 11:33 AM, Kmaw## 1971## said:

can anyone tell me how to stop the crying, the pain, i feel like I cant breath!!

I tried screaming into a pillow when no one was around.  I did not want company.  I wanted Billy and I could not have him.  I tried that twice, the pain in my head was so bad from doing that I figured I was hurting enough and did not want that.  Then I discovered a strange phenomenon, I could cry so hard that when I finished, or came to a time I needed to breathe, I found a peace in not breathing.  I could just let go and it would be so easy.  It was not long after this I found this forum and for the at least 100th time, I will tell you this.  We had roamed the Ouachita Forest, all the back roads, and all those back roads had small roads off of them.  In the Muddy Wilderness part we could drive all day and walk and we would never see another car.  I had a plan.  I could not live without Billy.  I just could not.  For 54 years we had been each other,  I did not know where I began and he ended.  Well, now I knew where he ended.  I had 50 morphine pills left.  A plan was made.  A place was chosen.  No one could find my truck.  But fear did not start, I wanted to be with Billy and my religion made me wonder if I would be with him.  My family got the feeling what I was going to do.  My children had been angry with me sometimes as is natural for parents, but I thought I had unleashed God's wrath.  I had let them down.  You do not want to do that.  I found this forum and I lived.  I learned to take care of myself and I talked with Billy every day.  I stuffed a king size pillow sham with his clothes and I still sleep with it.  The wound is not healed.  It never will be.  Scar tissue forms and will fall off, then form again.  I think of my grandmothers, my mama, and I carry on just like I hope they would expect me to do.  I am him and he is me.  We still are.  I just cannot see him.  Cannot stop the pain, you actually develop healing properties with the tears.  They hurt, but you cry until you cannot anymore.  And, don't give in to that final feeling of being so easy to just not take that breath.  One day you will see spring, you will see autumn.  They are not as pretty without our mate, but one day you will see the beauty.  Until then, read on.

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