MartyT Posted February 25, 2016 Author Report Share Posted February 25, 2016 My dear, I certainly can point you to a number of articles on this topic, but I think it's important to acknowledge that you're still relatively immersed in the midst of your own grief process. I realize that you're "in the second year" and that may seem like a very long time to you, but when your entire world has been turned upside down and your future is nothing like you'd expected or planned for it to be, it isn't any wonder that the confidence you used to have in your ability to plan ahead has been shaken to the core. The fact that you "used to be rational, pragmatic and had good judgment" is important to keep in mind, too, since in many ways you're still that same person, with those same personality traits,strengths and skills. All of that said, here are some helpful resources for you to check out: Decision-making Process Making Decisions in The Wake of Loss Grief, Emotion, And Major Life Decisions Grief, Decision Making and Listening to Myself Again 2 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
scba Posted February 25, 2016 Report Share Posted February 25, 2016 Thank you Marty. I will read the links. I aknowledge it is short time in this journey, but the pressure from outside is very strong. And the fear that his death could have damaged me forever is in the air. I struggle to find a balance between my emotions, my need to find peace, and the rush and pressure to stand up, move on, and go on cause that's the way it is. 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MartyT Posted February 25, 2016 Author Report Share Posted February 25, 2016 I understand what you're saying, Ana, about struggling to find that balance. I remember your saying that there were no specialists in grief counseling in your community, but are you still seeing your therapist? If so, are you satisfied with the way you are working together? Are you able to discuss with him where you are with all of this now ~ so you can examine more closely the fear that his death could have damaged you forever, and consider instead that now that this death has happened, in what ways has it changed you and how you think about yourself and your future? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
scba Posted February 25, 2016 Report Share Posted February 25, 2016 Yes Marty, I keep going to therapy and we started to discuss this issue. Unfortunately this town offers little in terms of counseling and grief counseling. I have checked ads and most are devoted to couple therapy or teenage disorders. there is a new trend on "ontological coaching" but the people I met that do this did not aknowledge my pain as it is, rather that a bad thing that I can transform into a new positive feeling. I don't want to judge but to me it sounded superficial. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MartyT Posted February 25, 2016 Author Report Share Posted February 25, 2016 I agree, Ana ~ superficial stuff is not what you need, but rather an approach that takes into account your significant loss and its life-changing effects on you. I wish you had access to a qualified grief counselor who comes from the perspective of loss and mourning, but it's good to know that you're still going to therapy and willing to discuss these matters with your therapist. (If you have a hospice in your town, you might call to see if they have a list of counselors skilled in working with grief.) In addition, I hope you'll continue to read, as it's an excellent way to learn what is normal in grief and all the ways others have learned to live with their own losses. Our Grief Bibliography page has dozens upon dozens of recommendations, suggested by the bereaved themselves, for the bereaved, and we're adding to it all the time. 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
scba Posted February 25, 2016 Report Share Posted February 25, 2016 (edited) Marty, your thread/article from “Levels of Loss” by Sr. Mary Agnes Sermersheim about secondary losses is excellent. I have printed it to discusse it with my therapist. I ticked "yes" to each point, which is not very conforting but it is reality. Thank you! Edited February 25, 2016 by scba 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted March 6, 2016 Report Share Posted March 6, 2016 This came in my email today from Megan Devine and as I often do when I wake up after falling asleep and it's way too early to get up I spend a while on the computer before I return to bed. Have you ever been told to "look for rainbows" when you are in pain? Seriously... Hello, dear one. Earlier this week, I watched a very intense, very moving, video by a man whose daughter had been murdered. As I watched, I thought of all the pain I witness every day, all the pain I know exists. All the pain I don't know about, yet it exists. Some days, the weight of heartbreak in this world, the weight of everything wrong and twisted and scary and painful - it just gets to me. I wouldn't change what I do for anything, and I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, but still. Sometimes, my heart is just massively broken. So, that night, I posted a tweet saying roughly these things, in under 140 characters. When I got up the next morning, I noticed a reply to my tweet that said, "keep looking up, that way you'll see rainbows." Now, if you spend time on the Refuge in Grief Facebook page (and come on over if you don't), you'll know I posted about this interchange. I mean, how could I not? You mention that the pain of the world is heavy in your heart today, and someone tells you to look for rainbows. Seriously? My heart is busted open in pain and in love, and I should stick a rainbow on it, as though that will fix everything? This is everything that's wrong with "grief support" in our culture. It's a complete and total fail: of empathy, of attention, of love. Not to pick on this one person too much, and in fact she's far, far, far from the only one to lay such useless tripe on top of pain, but for real - we need a massive overhaul in how we come to pain in this culture. Platitudes solve nothing. Noticing beauty, while valid in its own right, does not do a damn thing to mitigate pain, when pain is what is. One of my favorite poets, Joanna Macy, writes: "that your world is in pain is no reason to turn your back on it." She's referring to environmental devastation, but it works for us as well. That your world is in pain, that your heart is broken beyond repair, is no reason to turn your back on it. That you witness great pain in someone you care about, that it is hard for you to bear, is no reason to turn your back on them - which is what we do when we ladle on a useless platitude. Telling someone to look for the gift, or to look for beauty, doesn't relieve their pain. It only tells them they should look somewhere else for support. What's your experience with this stuff, my readers? Have you had the rainbow cure applied to you? If so, how'd that land for you? Did you say something about the relative uselessness of such a phrase, or did you just let it slide? Remember, when you hit "reply" to this letter, your email comes right to me. I'd love to hear from you. Talk soon, Megan 2 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted March 10, 2016 Report Share Posted March 10, 2016 This article was posted by Mark Liebenow in his blog Widower's Grief. Wednesday, March 9, 2016 Grief Is My friend Kelsea said grief is a teacher, a catalyst for change, and a mercy. This started me thinking about what grief is and the roles grief plays. Grief teaches us about ourselves, how we deal with extreme stress, sorrow, and personal devastation. It tells us how deeply we loved someone— a spouse, parent, sibling, child, or friend — and teaches us about the stark realities of life, that people we love die, often unexpectedly, and we will grieve their deaths. Grief is a catalyst for change because when a big part of our life is ripped away, we are forced to make changes. We may decide that now is the time to adjust our personal habits and do things differently, or it’s time for our life to head in a new direction. We may decide that life is too important to waste on a job we don’t like and find one that nourishes our heart. We may move to a new house or move across the country. We may decide that taking care of people is more important than doing things. Grief is a mercy. Grief gives us time and a protected space to deal with a death, although our boss may give us only a week off, and our friends may expect us to be over grief in 30 days. After the shock and numbness wear off, after we have withstood the bouts of anger and moved through despair, we begin to accept the reality of the death and the existence of a hole in our lives that will never be filled. If the full force of death were to hit us all at once, we might not survive. Grief brings clarity and depth to our understanding of what it means to be human. We see how fragile every person’s life is, and how important compassion is for those who are suffering. We also realize that we only have today to help others with their struggles, because tomorrow one of us may not be here. Grief is a grace. At a time when we are out of our minds and don’t care about eating, sleeping, or bathing, people show up to take care of us. Filled with compassion, or at least, good intentions, they keep us going and guide us back to ourselves. Grief is a sanctuary in the midst of a massive thunderstorm that swirls, crashes, and thunders around our house. Grief is a sorrow that flows through all the rooms in our heart until it finds its own place. Grief is not a sadness we go through. It’s a companion that guides us through sorrow, taking us across a foreign land from what has been to what will be. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MartyT Posted March 13, 2016 Author Report Share Posted March 13, 2016 From this week's newsletter by Megan Devine (of Refuge in Grief): Grief and the Happy Life. . . Even though I am largely "fine," 6 and a half years out from Matt's death, it still hurts. It is still inconceivable to me that that man is dead. DEAD. WTH. What's more, I can't believe I survived. In those early days (months, years), this song was so completely aligned with my heart: "now my suffering begins; would it be wrong if I turned my face away from the light, went with him tonight..." And yet, here I am. Happy. Despite the gaping hole in my life his death created. Despite missing him, missing our life, missing that person I was back then. Life grew in around that crater, in ways I could not have imagined (in fact, resented and resisted) in those early days. I didn't die back then, much as I may have wanted to. I was horrified - disgusted - with the very idea that I would ever be "okay," let alone happy. I couldn't see any way that could happen, and not diminish Matt's place in my life, in our life. Read on here >>> 2 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
kayc Posted March 13, 2016 Report Share Posted March 13, 2016 One thing I've learned is that it's no reflection on your love or life together if you have happiness in the future. In fact, that is to be desired. for most of us, it doesn't fill out the way this author says, but someplace in between. For many of us, the most we can hope for are happy moments. But I am genuinely happy for those who find more than that. Much of our happiness is a result of our effort (and I'm NOT talking about early grief here which is devastating and catastrophic!), so this person's success is, in my estimation, to be applauded! She's done a great job. I continue to go on missing my George, daily. But that does not mean I don't have happy moments. I enjoy my solitude much of the time. However, I also miss sharing life with him, which I would not have wished one iota away. I can enjoy nature, my animals, reading, the company of the seniors where I volunteer. I enjoy singing, I enjoy my sisters, my kids, my granddaughter. Yet there's not a day goes by but what I miss my George. Am I happy? For the most part, yes. But it does not even begin to compare with the happiness I had with him, which will be absent from my life as long as I am in this world. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted March 21, 2016 Report Share Posted March 21, 2016 The article posted by Mark Liebenow is above ~ a March 9th post! I can't delete this post! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted March 21, 2016 Report Share Posted March 21, 2016 Sharing Grief...an article by Mark Liebenow Wednesday, March 16, 2016 Longing Is a Hunger Longing comes in the evening, rising from its hidden place. The house I built in grief shelters me. It keeps me warm through the days and nights, and I am grateful. Yet I hunger for more. When grief first came, everything shut down. Windows were boarded up. Doors shut. The world went dark. My mind could not comprehend death or the dissolution of life. Emotions ran out of control. My spirit lost its footing because every truth, law and belief crumbled away under the weight of death’s relentless pressure. All senses went numb, creating a protected space. The body has its own wisdom. In his book I-Thou, Martin Buber speaks of longing, of the desire for such closeness in a relationship that boundaries blur and cease to exist, and there is unity of body, mind and heart. He was speaking of the relationship between believer and the sacred Other, but this longing for closeness extends to our personal relationships – between spouses, parent and child, between close friends. I often felt this closeness with Evelyn. Our life was like the slow tango where two people are so connected that they anticipate the other person’s next move. After she died, this closeness, this bond, was taken away, and grief’s pain was almost unbearable. I felt uprooted. The house of grief’s longing is my body. Survivors feel dead to the world. Not knowing what to think, with every emotion on speed dial, our body collapses on itself. Tears drain us into a shell where nothing gets in. The body is often the first to recover, perhaps because it has to eat and sleep in order to survive, even though rest is sporadic, and food tastes like paste. As the senses return, we begin to notice the warmth of the sun, the spices in food. The mind and spirit take longer to come back. And yet … The house of longing is grief’s body; the house my body of lonely grief. Friends came and their hugs rooted me back into the earth. Their presence and voices. Hot tea was good and warm. The taste of cranberry-orange scones. I often went to Yosemite when my heart and mind were numb. The stunning beauty and light of the mountains penetrated my shell, and hiking over its landscape reconnected my body to the earth. Where my body led, my heart and mind followed until they were ready to come back. Being in the wilderness forced me to pay attention to the moment and to my physical surroundings, because the dangers of mountain lions and bears were real. Hiking ten hours a day made me aware of my body’s needs. I was incredibly thirsty and hungry. My legs ached and cramped up. I was physically exhausted, and finally slept well. The scent of pine trees filled the fresh air. The sounds of waterfalls and cascading rivers floated across the meadows, and I could feel the strength of the earth beneath my feet. Being in nature grounded at a time when everything else had been swept away. Longing is a physical hunger. Posted by Mark Liebenow at 6:56 AM Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted March 21, 2016 Report Share Posted March 21, 2016 An article - Grief and Easter from What's Your Grief http://www.whatsyourgrief.com/grief-and-easter/ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MartyT Posted March 21, 2016 Author Report Share Posted March 21, 2016 See also Easter and Grief: An Inescapable Connection by Megan Devine ♥ 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted March 28, 2016 Report Share Posted March 28, 2016 WOW! This struck a cord. http://www.gratefulness.org/blog/attention-turns-us-inside/ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted March 31, 2016 Report Share Posted March 31, 2016 The Other Side of Complicated GriefLiked 23 mins · Grief is not only about sadness. Grieving can be a confusing experience and one that can catch us off guard. Society believes that grief is simple. The griever is sad. The reality is that grief will drag us through a vast myriad of emotions. Emotions ranging from guilt to fear to despair to anger. The scope of possible emotions is almost endless. Each one of us will experience different emotions as we grieve, at different intensities and lengths. Grief is so much more than sadness. Grievers need to be aware that the emotional ups and downs that you are experiencing are normal. Healing our grief is a process. Don't let society put your grief into a narrow box. Don't feel guilty that you are experiencing all of these emotions. These emotions are what we must experience to eventually heal our broken hearts. Our hearts will never be the same after we have lost someone who meant the world to us. But - we can eventually live with some joy again. Our hearts can go on. - Rhonda 4 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mom's angel Posted March 31, 2016 Report Share Posted March 31, 2016 This is so good 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted April 2, 2016 Report Share Posted April 2, 2016 Grief feeling like fear... http://www.secondfirsts.com/2016/04/no-one-ever-told-me-that-grief-felt-so-like-fear/ 2 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MartyT Posted April 2, 2016 Author Report Share Posted April 2, 2016 This is excellent, Anne ~ thank you! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted April 5, 2016 Report Share Posted April 5, 2016 http://www.opentohope.com/spousal-loss-what-legacy-of-loss-are-you-passing-on-to-others/ 3 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted April 6, 2016 Report Share Posted April 6, 2016 I struggled with this for a very long time. I missed Jim's voice. I missed his calls. I loved listening to him talk. It took me over a year before I changed our telephone voice recording message. It comforted me whenever the telephone (landline at that time) rang. I still miss his voice. http://thegrieftoolbox.com/article/when-we-miss-their-voice?utm_content=buffer7b1e4&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=buffer 2 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
enna Posted April 7, 2016 Report Share Posted April 7, 2016 Trauma, whether it’s psychological or physical, it all ends up in the body. Mindfulness can help you begin to be able to re-enter your body, to make it a safe place again. It can help you come back down to Earth, connect with yourself, and connect with others who have suffered. Point of View: When Vulnerability and Trauma Collide - Mindful Podcast Episode 4: How mindfulness can help us work through trauma and PTSD in order to build resilience. MINDFUL.ORG This was really a good article. 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MartyT Posted April 10, 2016 Author Report Share Posted April 10, 2016 In today's newsletter, Megan Devine writes about Signs of Recovery: Hello dear one.Did you read the title of this week's letter - signs of recovery - and click through angrily? I know I would have, in my own early grief. Loss like this is not something from which you simply "recover." It's not like you had a bit of a headache and just needed a nap. Signs of recovery? Seriously? But you know me better than that.What I'm talking about today is not recovery in the sense of being back to who you were before. I'm building on last week's theme of what happens when tiny shards of light enter your heart: how grief and love both rebound in the face of a "good day." It doesn't mean you're better, but it is something. Read on here >>> 2 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MartyT Posted April 13, 2016 Author Report Share Posted April 13, 2016 Does grief make you feel this way? Oh, The Road of Crazy ~ by Allison Miller, via Soaring Spirits International: I really am crazy. I know it. But I must do a fairly good job of appearing not only not crazy but really rational and okay, because nobody else thinks I’m crazy. They would if they knew what my heart really looks like and what the inside of my mind looks like. But none of that is evident on the outside. It isn’t that I’m holding back to any degree. God knows I’ve been honest about this grief, about this widowhood, since it began. It’s all I know to be, all I can be, because it’s too gargantuan to hide. Even so, you can only show so much, and mostly it seems not to show on the outside, at least once past the early months of grief. And maybe that’s a good thing. If people knew how my insides really looked, I’d probably be locked away. Which might be a relief, honestly. This widowhood is exhausting, isn’t it? Read on here >>> 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MartyT Posted April 13, 2016 Author Report Share Posted April 13, 2016 Sometimes those of us who work so hard to support others need to remember the wisdom in this piece: Letting Go of the Need to Change People by Bob Livingstone Today I want to talk about getting caught up in trying to change people. It happens at my job as a school guidance counselor and it occurs in my personal life as well. Somehow I become intensely invested in altering other’s lives. I want my students to be nicer and believe in themselves. My friends sometimes get involved in destructive relationships that I have no business trying to intervene in. My head tells me to let go of what I can’t change. My heart says never give up. There is a pain, longing and sense of loss while my heart firmly believes there is always a way to help improve someone’s life. I become anxious when I feel that I haven’t done a good enough job to lift their spirits and help them reach their potential. Change is always possible but, I just haven’t thought of an effective intervention yet. Read on here >>> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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