VIEWING THE WORLD DIFFERENTLY

When I painted this cityscape of Seattle about six months after Christian's death, it was a perfect reflection of how I was feeling. Like so many others that have been almost destroyed by the loss of someone they love dearly, I was having a difficult time with life going on as though nothing had happened. As the Karen Carpenter song goes "How can the world go on turning? How can the sea rush to shore? Don't they know it's the end of the world?" How could the world go on just the same as it had before my son died by suicide.

Logic had nothing to do with it. Grief is not logical. It is full of irrational, turbulent, confusing, and unpredictable cycles of emotion. In my temporary madness, it angered me that people could still laugh, still have fun, could still go on living normal, happy lives. And how dare they display their happiness in my presence. It didn't matter that they were people that I didn't even know - just people on the street or people shopping or people on the television. They, in their happy, normal lives, made me angry.

My world was twisted and askew. Change had been forced upon me and there was nothing I could do about it. My dreams had been shattered. Everything I had known previously now made no sense. I knew that I would never view the world the same way again because everything was different now. Everything I saw was different. Everything I felt was different. How I perceived life and relationships was different. Nothing was the same.

I would certainly never see things in the same innocent, inexperienced way. I was absolutely astounded at how much I didn't know about life: and I knew nothing about the devastating affects a loss can reap on the human psych. I knew nothing about suicide. In that regard I truly was an innocent. I was uninformed. It wasn't a part of my reality - until January 18, 2010.

As time passed, I would like to think that I "grew in wisdom and in strength"; and as I did, the pieces of my world began to come together again. At times I wonder just how much numbness plays a part in that and how much antidepressants play a part in the numbness. In my antidepressant drug numbed mind I've decided that strength is perhaps nothing more than learning to live with the pain; adjusting to the pain; and learning to bob, duck, dodge, and twist around the pain.

I read all this stuff about "choosing how you're going to live your life so you might find joy" and not letting grief defeat you. Just be strong, make the right choices, and you'll be happy. It would be nice if it were that simple. I wish it were. Maybe for some it is that simple. I don't know. Everyone is different after all.

In the book the wounded woman, Hope and Healing for Those that Hurt by Dr. Steve Stephens and Pam Vredevelt, it states in part "Grief is a time of massive contradictions. Grief is nothing even close to a clean, step-by-step process. On the contrary, the sorrow that grips our lives is very confusing, and feelings typically race in and out without any logical progression. Emotions are mixed, seemingly random. In most cases they boil to the surface repeatedly - and more frequently than we prefer. Denial always pops up first, but it reappears over and over again when we sense our pain pushing us too close to the cliff of despair. It helps us pace ourselves so we can manage our heartache a little at a time."

Is it any wonder that our world is so out of kilter when we ping pong between facing reality and shutting it out altogether. Is it any wonder that we feel anxious and depressed? From my own experience over the past two years there is one thing that I've learned we can always rely on. That one thing is hope.

Why hope? Because hope is not something that someone gives to us. Hope is not something we have to read a book to find. Hope comes from within. It is our very own. It lifts us from the valley of despair up to the mountain tops. And if not all the way to the top of the mountain, then within viewing range. It is a beautiful, wonderful gift we give to ourselves. We can have hope that as time passes there will begin to be more good days than bad days. Hope that we will begin to laugh and smile and find joy in life once more. Hope that our eyes will be open and receptive to the beauty that surrounds us. Hope that we will somehow in the depths of our suffering learn to accept those things we cannot change, to find hope in the future, and most of all hope that we will find peace.