River: For my grieving friends

[mdlbear]

I don't really like having to post about grieving, but it has a way of coming up. It's a couple of weeks short of what would have been my Dad's 90th birthday, and a lot of my friends are still shell-shocked from the death of John Caspell, so I guess it's appropriate.

I said a lot of what I wanted to say about grieving in this post almost a year ago. It's still worth a read -- the gist of it is my standard advice: everyone does their grieving differently, at their own pace, and the goal is not forgetting but acceptance: coming to terms with your loss. I'll wait while you go back and read it.

But there's always more, isn't there?

My choice of the phrase "shell-shocked" up there was deliberate. It originally came out of WWI to refer to a range of syndromes, including what we now call posttraumatic stress disorder.

... a severe and ongoing emotional reaction to an extreme psychological trauma. This stressor may involve someone's actual death, a threat to the patient's or someone else's life, serious physical injury, an unwanted sexual act, or a threat to physical or psychological integrity, overwhelming psychological defenses.

One of the common reactions to a sudden loss is survivor guilt. It doesn't have to be based on having survived an actual disaster. Especially if you have a low opinion of yourself to begin with, you can start with a friend's death and a passing thought of "why him and not me?" and spiral downward from there.

The universe isn't fair. The universe doesn't give a damn whether your friend was more worthy, or more deserving of life and happiness, than you are. Your friend and the drunk in the SUV, the pebble in the roadway, the patch of black ice, the random blood clot, the cosmic ray particle, were just there in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you weren't.

It's not your fault.

As the Mikado said, "I'm really very sorry for you all, but it's an unjust world, and virtue is triumphant only in theatrical performances."

I know that isn't a very cheering thought when you've just lost a dear friend. And it may well be the hardest thing you'll have to come to terms with, but there it is. I never said grieving would be easy.

Comments

[lemmozine.livejournal.com]

I would add an observation or two: crying is a healthy response to grief. Suppressing it can cause all kinds of damage. This is one of the reasons funerals and memorial services exist - it is a setting where grief is acceptable. In a twisted sort of way I am glad I was able to cry with such intensity last weekend. What that means to me is I'm in touch with my emotions and dealing with them. Anger is also a normal emotional response, but it needs to be brief and end quickly because it can lead to bad things if it lingers and festers.

It would be so much worse not to feel anything. One good thing about having been through this before (a close friend who was 47 in 2004, a long list of relatives, other friends in fandom, and so on) is that I have a roadmap of sorts in my mind and I know what I need to do. One of the most important things is to be there for my friends, and if I can think of any positive contribution or assistance, to do it without question. Another is to, if possible, have some physical thing (or mental thing if that's not there) to keep me connected - a photograph helps, or something like the piece of Indian pottery my mother bought after I spotted it and pointed it out to her, something that brings back a good memory of when I was with that person.

The other thing is that loss is not something to "get over." It is important, for me, to keep the memories of those who are gone. They were a part of my life, and if I try to cut them off, it's like cutting off a part of myself. Some of my people from the past are with me constantly, some even get mixed up in my dreams every now and then. I often dream of two dogs that have been gone almost 30 years now. In my dreams, I'm aware that they're not supposed to be there, but they seem real. This used to scare me, but now I find it somehow reassuring.

[pocketnaomi.livejournal.com]

I don't try to 'get over' the loss. I do try -- eventually; NOT right away -- to get over the constant focus on it, to become capable again of spending most of my time aware of and able to take joy in the parts of my life which are still there. It doesn't mean I ever forget the person I lost, or that I no longer miss them, it's just that I get to a point where the memories of them enhance my ability to enjoy the world of the living, rather than prevent me from doing so.

[lemmozine.livejournal.com]

You are absolutely right.

[mdlbear]

I get to a point where the memories of them enhance my ability to enjoy the world of the living, rather than prevent me from doing so.

I like this. It's what I do, too.

[mdlbear]

As you noticed, a lot of this is in the linked upstream post, but it's nicely said.

Whether or not there's life after death, the only thing we who are still living have are our memories.

[lemmozine.livejournal.com]

Oh, um, I just went back and read the earlier post, & you said many of the same things.

Apologies for the repetition.

[shadowe_wraithe]

Thank you for posting this. (((HUGS)))

I have always tried to remember, when hurting the deepest for those who have crossed over, that my pain is for myself, and not for the person who is gone...I feel that way now...because I shall miss the treasure of getting to know someone whom I admired, and had not had the chance to realy come to know.

Grieving is a personal path, one that each person walks in their own way, in their own time, and comes to their own terms with in their moving towards acceptance. It is never easy, for if it was, it wouldn't be called grief.

[mdlbear]

(((HUGS)))

Yes.

[pocketnaomi.livejournal.com]

The universe isn't fair. The universe doesn't give a damn whether your friend was more worthy, or more deserving of life and happiness, than you are. Your friend and the drunk in the SUV, the pebble in the roadway, the patch of black ice, the random blood clot, the cosmic ray particle, were just there in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you weren't.

Or, as my father sometimes likes to say, "There is no substitute for plain dumb luck."

Either pro or con.

[mdlbear]

Einstein once said, in criticism of quantum mechanics, that he didn't believe that God throws dice.

He was wrong about that one.

[pondside.livejournal.com]

or as a dear friend of mine once said... "Fair" - that's a place you take your cow to sell it.

Sucks, but - John never said that life was a meadow of pretty daisies, you had to watch out for the cow patties too.

[mdlbear]

*nods*

I seem to recall a couple of songs about selling cows.