The Chaos of Grief: Part II

Homeward Angel, painted by Ross Beard (2005)

Today is Bell Let’s Talk, and it’s serving as a good excuse for me to get back to writing, and my series on Grief. Part I focused on the “Shock & Awe”, the initial confusion and disorientation that happens after losing a loved one. For this entry…. we’re going to talk about the darker side of grief.

Anger & Guilt

When we think of anger during the grief process, we think of it as the blame game. We want answers. We want rationalization as to why this possibly could have happened. Some people get angry with their faith. How could their God do this to them?

The anger I’ve been dealing with has often been more abstract. And before I go too far with this… I want to make something very clear, aka, I’m writing this to you Mom… I’m not mad about the events that transpired that night. I’m not mad at my mom, the paramedics, the hospital, none of them. From the way it all happened, there was nothing anybody could have done differently in those moments.

But, my confession is that I sometimes struggle with anger towards my Dad. Why didn’t he go get his heart checked more often? Why was he so stubborn about seeing the doctor? The “what if” scenarios really get under my skin, wondering about what could have been different if he had approached his health care differently. I’m also really angry at him for not being here anymore. How could he just leave us like that?

But deep down I know… I’m not actually angry with him. I’m feeling guilty. Guilt for not being around more when he was alive, not writing down the many stories he used to tell, not chatting with him online more or on the phone, all the times I got annoyed or frustrated with him, the list goes on. I’m actually angry that I didn’t appreciate the moments I had with him more. I’m angry with myself. I’m angry that I don’t live closer to my Mom, that I can’t be there more for day to day things, and that I wasn’t there more often even before all of this.

And that anger has often made it’s way to other people. There’s been times when I have unfairly snapped at Sean, or have been frustrated with others. Often times I may lash out when I feel that I am being asked to do too much. My defenses go up very quickly. My level of patience is very low, and I often find myself feeling annoyed at the smallest of inconveniences.

Anger is an ugly emotion. I feel a lot of physical pain when I am angry. My adrenaline pumps. I get exhausted, but yet, I don’t sleep well. I don’t feel like myself. I feel like a darker version of who I really am. It brings out my worst qualities. And it’s also all really confusing. I never feel like I know if I am truly upset about something, or if it’s the grief. I feel like I don’t know myself, and my emotions at times. And I find the anger is hard to overcome, because you can’t resolve it the way you want to. If I were mad at a friend, I could contact them and try to find a solution, or at least have my feelings heard. But here, I can’t do that. I can’t yell at my Dad or ask him questions. I can’t have my feelings truly heard. Because I am talking about more than prayer, or writing in a journal, etc. A face to face conversation cannot happen, and that just feeds the anger even more because it’s all just a reminder that he’s gone. I think, too, the anger we experience when we’re grieving is because we’re exhausted. We’re done. We’re tired of talking, thinking, reacting. We just don’t want to do it anymore because everything feels pointless.

The guilt is really hard. Forgiveness for this type of guilt has to come from within, and as my therapist will tell you, I am extremely hard on myself. I rarely forgive myself. Instead, I tend to use the anger towards myself as a motivator. But that is of course, an unhealthy relationship.

So, for those who have been through this before let’s go with the spirit of today – and let’s talk about the anger, the guilt, the resentment. All those ugly feelings. Get them out into the open. Vent, rant, speak up. And also, share with me how you dealt with it. How did you forgive? How do you cope? Share your stories, and let’s get through this together. Because we can’t carry around these heavy emotions that weigh us down. We need to find freedom.

Thanks for reading, and today I close with The Moody Blues and the song “Question”. A staple in our household. I feel the frenetic energy in this song captures the roller coaster of anger, grief, and longing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving on From Yesterday

Note: I’ve had this entry sitting in my Drafts folder for weeks. I’ve struggled so much with how to express my sadness at various things over the past month. And after yesterday, that feeling has intensified. What do I say to those who lost their job? How do I comfort those who lost Alison? What can I really say that makes any sort of difference? Here I am, alive and employed. What right do I have to be blogging about being sad when there are people hurting so much more than I am. All I can say is, this is what I know to do in a time of pain. And what I also know I can do is be there. My blog, to me, is a way of sharing my own struggles to maybe find comfort in others who understand. Friends we need each other more now than ever. Don’t be scared to reach out for help. I am here, I am always here, and will do my best to help. 

For now with this entry, I’ve modified it to deal with the layoffs at TSN and the death of a beautiful person. 

Another running season has come to a close for me. This year I took part in four races. Starting out this year I wasn’t sure what I would do. A busy year was ahead, and I was so burned out from my half marathon last Fall that I was certain I’d be satisfied just running 5km races. This seemed to really cement itself after a difficult 10km race on Mother’s Day. My cousin and I raced on a hot, humid morning on a course that was actually a lot more grueling than expected. (My body was not ready to run hills in the heat in early May). But I did it, and although I didn’t meet my goal, I still was happy with my finish time considering the circumstances.

Then came the “busy year”. Between weddings, trips, going out with friends, and everything in between, the weight gain came. Yes, that anger I had at the beginning of July is still kicking around. I went out and bought new pants. I replaced shirts. I did all the things I didn’t want to do. But then I started to kick myself in the rear and get moving. I’m back into some old habits. But it still is hard to resist that extra snack, or another pint of beer, or a glass of wine with dinner. (And really, I firmly believe life is too short to resist those things all the time. If I get hit by a bus tomorrow, it won’t be because I had a second pint two weeks ago).

And this is where my recent turning point comes in. There have been some horrible things happening over the past month. Many good friends, and coworkers lost their jobs at TSN yesterday – my mentor among them. Good people all across the company who did nothing but work hard for something they believed in. My friend Alyson Fisher lost her father on Thanksgiving in a tragic accident. And most heartbreaking of all, Alison Salinas lost her battle with cervical cancer last night. She was young, beautiful, and one of the most inspirational people I have ever met. And all of that got me thinking. My anxiety loves a good existential crisis after all, especially one that involves death. Anxiety has taken so much from me. Depression has taken it’s fair share too. These two illnesses just steal from you, constantly. And it’s really not new to me, but when you suffer from mental illness it can all too easy to forget your life lessons. But these illnesses don’t HAVE to steal these things from me. I can be treated. I can be cured. It takes a lot of work, and takes patience and strength, but it can happen. And it has happened for me, even if it’s small baby steps. But there are so many people out there that can’t be cured, or have even more difficult battles than I do, and I shouldn’t be sitting here terrified of my own body. I fear death because of the finality of it. That’s it, it’s over. Done. So ironically, I spend so much of my time on this earth frozen in fear. Or even worse, I waste countless hours being mean and abusive to myself. I look at myself in the mirror with disgust. I look at pictures from even just a couple years ago and think of how much better I used to look. I punish myself for things I cannot control. Take for example, my abnormal cervix. Internally, I have been beating myself up over it, even though there is zero evidence that shows that it’s ALL MY FAULT.

I’m at a point where I need to shut myself up. And I am still on my own, so maybe this is a time where I need to acknowledge that I need to find a new therapist. That I need that unbiased voice reassuring me, and guiding me. It helps go a long way towards challenging my skewed beliefs about life, death, and what I need to fear. But maybe more importantly than shutting up my anxiety, is forgiving myself. And that is so difficult to do. I need to say to myself, “Tesla, it’s OK.” I hear other people say this to me, but until I truly internalize it, it’s not going to stick. Anxiety loves to push it’s way to the front and say “NO – PAY ATTENTION TO MEEEEE”. If anxiety had an Instagram account it would be full of duck face selfies.

My obessive thinking gets me caught in these traps. I start with “wow, I really hate my body right now” Then I move to feelings of guilt “well, I should just be thankful I have this body” and then it moves to “ohmygod I’m such a horrible person for thinking my problems are so bad when others have it so much worse” and onto “all this time I’ve wasted, what an idiot”. It’s all negative, and it’s all bad for me. I need to get back to reassuring myself, encouraging myself, and most importantly loving myself. Because there will be a day where I truly will regret not taking advantage of these running legs.

Guilt. I have so many friends who are hurting, and who are fighting battles of their own. Two friends out West are going through an incredible one – Benji & Lisa Husband (whose story you can read on this blog: Take Part of Me). Benji donated a portion of his liver to save the life of his wife, Lisa. I met these two on the Kraft Celebration Tour in 2012. They were part of that life changing trip across Canada that had me realizing I deserved more out of life. They have a special place in my heart for that reason. So how do I sit here and justify typing up a whole blog about my own problems when they have major surgery to worry about and recover from?! It all feels so selfish, and narcissistic for me to even be continuing with a blog when others have such bigger problems. And so I begin to feel horribly for having my anxiety, for wasting parts of my life, and for hitting the “publish” button. But, really, I don’t know what else to do. And I know I need to be easier on myself, and forgive myself more. I need to write to help myself heal, and I’ve truly had a hard time writing this entry. So friends, please don’t think I am trying to make my life seem so much harder, or that my problems are bigger than yours. I am trying to empathize with you the best way I know how, to let you know that you aren’t alone with your struggles, and hardships. Mine might be on a smaller scale, or a totally different animal, but I want to show you my suffering so I can support you and help you by showing you, in some small way, I might understand that feeling of your thoughts trying to explode our of your mind.

So how does running tie into all of this? Well, as I approached the Scotiabank Waterfront 5km race on October 18th I found myself wishing I had signed up for another half marathon. 5km just didn’t feel the same with this event. The runner’s expo left me feeling like I wasn’t truly worthy to be there. That what I was doing wasn’t an accomplishment. I know that isn’t true (In fact, a couple years ago a stranger got a little bit angry with me when I said I was “just” doing the 5km and reminded me that 5km is still a big deal and a lot farther than many people will ever run in their lifetime). The itch to do a long distance race was back, and so was my motivation to run. So I’ve bought a new pair of shoes, and have full intentions of putting down another 21km on the streets of Toronto. But more importantly, it’s given me something to focus on other than just trying to lose weight.

In addition to another half marathon I am also going to take part in the Ride To Conquer Cancer. I’ve joined Team #tealpower, a team inspired by Alison Salinas. This ride now means so much more. It’s again my way of trying to turn my feeling of helplessness and guilt into something that can incite real progress in the search for a cure for cancer. It’s also another key step in my fight against my anxiety – if my body can handle this bike ride, it must be in pretty good shape. And I am enjoy to enjoy this body and put it to good use.

With these goals ahead, and even more happy things to come in my personal life in the coming months, I am hoping this is it. That this is truly when I come out of the shadows. The darkness of winter is about to be upon me, so I had better find my way before I get too lost. But for the next little while, I will allow myself to be sad, to mourn. Heartbreak doesn’t heal quickly. And let’s all be there for each other. Love can truly conquer all, and our love and support for one another will never be so important as it is right now. I am here for all of you. Let’s stay on the path together.

Thank you for reading, and always keep sharing.