Quintessentially She.
Sweet Release: How do you take your grief, one lump or two?
“If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is to be present , gratefully.”
(Maya Angelou)
I stand in the present moment, in my own truth. It has taken me a very long time to be able to say that, and to feel that I really am. It has taken a lot of soul searching, meditation, awareness, recognition and allowing myself to be just as I am, to reach this point in my mind, in my life. However, the journey to get here has been really quite messy and raw. I’ve hidden from my own feelings and emotions. I hid from my true self. And to get here has been a roller-coaster of a ride, some of it enjoyable and some not so. But I am here and I do finally know that without having gone through and done the things I have, I wouldn’t have come to this place within me. I wouldn’t have found that part of me which is now surging forth to stand in this present moment, allowing myself clarity and alignment of my mind, body & soul. I have been clearing the path for something good and something new. Sometimes I feel this journey has been a metaphoric vision of being naked in the cold, dark and emptiness of life itself. Now I am aware that this was only part of my journey and path to my true purpose.
“The great science to living happily is to live in the present”
(Pythagorus of Samos)
How do you take your Grief, One lump or two?
How do you like your grief served up? In a bowl or in a cup? In a storm or in a maelstrom? One lump of sugar or two? It never comes like that does it? Lets be honest, when you lose someone you love its never rich tea and sympathy. It is messy, raw and real. Its unadulterated grief from the pit of your stomach. Its going through the motions of a scream with nothing but a whisper of air coming out. Its gut wrenching primal sounds being released in deep despair.
30 years ago, I wrote a story for my English language assessment at school, when I had just turned 16 years old. Back then, it was a story that approached a taboo, depression. My story was about a man who had been diagnosed with manic depression and who felt that the most severe treatment was the only thing that would save him. Back then, treatments through choice included electro-convulsive therapy, ECT, a procedure that is carried out under general anaesthesia. This treatment delivers small electric currents to the brain resulting in convulsions which can cause changes in the chemistry of the brain. ECT has been known to reverse the symptoms in patients who suffer from some forms of mental health conditions. However, it can also wipe out memories, which can return albeit very slowly, if at all. Continuing my essay, I wrote about how, as this man walked from his hospital ward to see his visiting family, he had to hold on to a hand rail to steady himself. That when his daughter saw him, she didn’t recognise him as he had pure white hair, which she was unused to. You see, dad had always hid some hair dye and a cup with a blackened toothbrush in it, under the sink, to touch up his roots when they came through. He was a man of impeccable dress and his image was important to him, as it was the first impression a person would get from you.
Had he forgotten his hair dye? Had he forgotten himself? The answer to both questions is Yes!
I didn’t understand then what I do now.
Depression is a serious mental health issue which should not be shrugged off, brushed under the carpet, limited to therapy or to pharmaceuticals. Its real and it can happen to anyone, even the most happiest, biggest smiled people, that you or I know. When you are experiencing depression, you don’t wish to be a burden on anyone else, because your dark is yours and yours alone. This act is a mistake and can lead to deeper depression, but at the time you don’t realise that. Depression itself is like grief of the self. You lose yourself in it. It goes so deep into the abyss of your mind. It spirals round and round until you hit the bottom of the abyss and smash into a million tiny pieces. That’s when the really hard work can begin, because only then can you begin to pick up the pieces that serve you well and place them into some semblance of recognition that shines in your eyes and in your mind. It is then that you know there is hope. However, for others it is much more difficult than that. For some are blinded by the fall and know not where the tiny pieces are or which if any of them serve any good. In some cases, only a shard remains, clasped in the hands of the afflicted. For losing that shard means losing your mind completely, losing yourself and forgetting. The mind is a trickster and can play the most heinous games. For those who cannot find their way out are not cowards, they are lost! Lost beyond anything you or I have ever encountered, lost where reality no longer exists and in its place lies hopelessness and despair and no amount of help will ever be enough. That kind of despair is real to those who experience this depth of depression and can lead to end of life situations.
Suicide is real. Its there every day, somebody takes their own life. There is no barter, no deals to be made. They are lost, as far as they are concerned, they cannot be reached. They have forgotten what it is to live, forgotten life itself to be the greatest gift of all. It is not something to scoff at, not something to mock. You may never know how deeply the person sitting next to you is feeling or suffering until its too late. When someone in your life dies this way, the last thing you want to hear from anyone is “that’s the cowards way out”…let me explain, to reach the bottom of the abyss and to have nothing separating you from the darkness, the nothing, the unknown, to merge with that is to be utterly lost, with no thought of anyone else because there simply isn’t. There is only the darkness of your mind and the despair of your soul left to relinquish. Surrender is one of the most difficult things to achieve , its not cowardly or courageous, it’s cruel mind tricks and utter forgetfulness of the self and everything that has been achieved in life this far. And yes, at that moment in time, you have no idea of the devastation you’ll leave behind, because to your mind, there is nothing.
For 29 years I have been a product of parental suicide, or so I led myself to believe. But just recently I have experienced a huge release. You see, when my dad died, it was the end of so much for me. I’d just left school and when the whole series of events surrounding his death and funeral had passed, mostly everyone around me just got on with it, and to some extent so did I. However, there was always something missing, a void, an emptiness. Surrounding me, within me was a terrible grief which I had suppressed because we just don’t grieve the way I needed to. For years I carried my grief around with me and whilst I did, I used a menagerie of coping mechanisms. After the years of guilt, of “If only I had called, he could still be here today”. After years of despair and feeling lost, after the anger and displacement, after nearly drowning myself in antidepressants, therapy, alcohol, drugs, wild parties and after-parties. After solid relationships, children, grandchildren. After far too many bottles of red wine I’d consumed alone, underneath it all I was still grieving. That kind of grief , I’ve learned is much like depression. It walks into the room in your head where you’re having cocktails with your other goods and bad's. You look at each other and nod in recognition, but that’s it, you don’t make eye contact after that. But grief is relentless and you just know that grief is making its way around the room, greeting everyone partaking in your sweet cocktail. That is until it finally reaches YOU. As you take griefs' hand for what seems to be the millionth time, it washes over you, like a wave. Once again you find yourself back in the abyss of despair, loneliness and snatched treasured memories. Where the pain in your throat is too much to bare and the echo of your cries go unheard as your voice fails you in grief stricken heartache.
People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar.
(Thich Nhat Hanh)
Last New Moon, (November 2019), grief visited me again. Its been nearly 30 years since my dad died. Only this time I had a huge release that lifted so much away from me. I met grief as I always had, but this time I didn’t shake its hand. I embraced it for the first time in too long and I allowed myself to feel. I cried the hardest I have cried in so many years, a real deep sob which came from the pit of my stomach. The pain in my throat which, in the past had prevented me, released a deep sorrowful moan followed by my body convulsing in deep grieving sobs. I allowed it all. I nursed myself, I nursed my grief in a way only I could. I curled into a ball and cried so much it hurt. I allowed myself as much time as I needed. The release continued for a few days. It seemed to me that I was reliving that day and those that followed which were the worst of my life. I needed so much to heal, to forgive myself and my father. I allowed myself the space I needed to take up and embraced what I had not allowed myself for 29 years.
I am not angry any more, nor am I numb. Nor do I have a lack of understanding, because I too have visited the abyss. Only, I found my tiny puzzle pieces of life and stitched them back together in time. In fact, although I know grief will most certainly pay me a visit again at some point, I now recognise this old friend by its knowing nod and gifts of memories, of times spent with loved ones passed. It brings less pain than before and more self awareness and compassion, as time passes. Grief never really leaves us. I know some say ‘time is a great healer’ and to a certain extent it is. But remember, time is as long as you need it to be. Truly embracing grief and allowing yourself to feel, to remember, to take as much time as you need to love and honour yourself, is really the best gift you can give yourself and the grief you feel. Grief is tailor made to each of us, as are our coping mechanisms. Recognising grief, allowing yourself to feel and letting go of the pain is part of the healing process.
This year I remake my promise to check up on people who have been down, depressed, angry, upset or anything like it. I make a promise to hold space for those who need it, who are suffering in grief or depression or ask me to. I ask the same of you. Remember, its never cowardice that holds a person in the abyss and takes a life this way, its being lost, grief of the self, the minds trickster ways, which some of us can’t help listening to.
This festive season and onward, be aware and be there for someone who needs it. It may be a simple act of kindness by being present, or sitting in silence with them or coffee and an ear or shoulder, or a simple hug. There are numbers and websites for information and help at the end of this article, before the credits.
Bright blessings to you all in love and light. May you all have such goodness in your life.
She
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Helpful websites, national & international numbers:-
samaritans helpline: 116 123
helpline: 1-800-273-8255
Prevention of young suicide: https://papyrus-uk.org
helpline: 0800 068 41 41
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