Today I happened upon an article that ask the question, "What is reasonable grief?" I didn't read any further because the nature of the question suggests that perhaps grief could be "unreasonable". The very definition of "unreasonable" means: not governed by reason; irrational or absurd. Exceeding reasonable limits. For me, grief and unreasonable didn't belong in the same sentence. After I retracted my claws, I gave some thought to the question and decided that perhaps there might just be some sound thinking there and the question could have merit.
There is one aspect of grieving that no one really wants to talk about or acknowledge. Self-destructive behavior. I, for one, thinking of myself as a strong woman hates to admit that I have great failings and overpowering weaknesses.
When I lost my son, I lost part of myself with him. I not only loved Christian, I was incredibly proud of him. An emotion shared by most parents. I was proud of the man he had become. I was proud of his accomplishments and I was proud of the fact that there was no job too small that he wasn't willing to do to help himself and others succeed. I was blown away with the fact that he had earned his first million before he was twenty-five years old. He not only loved life, he celebrated it; and he loved people. He would go out of his way to help a friend in need. He had the most amazing sense of humor ... he could make us laugh until our sides ached and tears ran down our cheeks. He was intelligent and passionate about those things he believed in. And for me, most importantly he loved me with all his heart.
His passing left more than a hole in my heart. It left a huge, huge hole in my very soul. I could not begin to image life without him in it. The thing that hurt me the very most and the thing that I still cannot come to terms with is the hurt and the pain and disappointment he felt for the last two years of his life. He was disappointed in himself and felt that he personally had failed in life. It was this unbearable pain in his obsessive compulsive need for perfection that caused him to end his life. We, as parents, live our children's pain and I, as his mother, could not fix that pain. I could not change it and I cannot fix the hurt within myself that I felt for him. This hurt and pain is so monstrous, so all encompassing that it consumes me. It is something that I have no control over. I am buried beneath its weight. This, I suppose, could be consisted "unreasonable" grief .... a nicer way of saying it would be to call it "complicated grief".
Several years ago I read an article in a magazine where Paula Deen had stated that when she was severely depressed that she would go to a casino and play the slots for hours as a way of escape. I must have stuck that comment somewhere in my memory banks because I remembered it about eight months after we lost Christian. I was, indeed, so, so depressed and working overtime to not let anyone know. I wanted desperately for my family and friends to think that I was okay and that I was working through my grief. Let me tell you, I was not okay then and I'm still not okay. Denial of emotion takes a serious toll not only on the mind but on the body. I have all this hurt inside me and I don't know what to do with it.
So I decided to give Paula Deen's way of coping a chance and you know what, it worked. Temporarily. I could just sit there and watch a bunch of symbols fall down into place without any thought at all and sometimes there was even a monetary reward that came with it. But the winning of money was not the object, getting lost in the moment was. Unfortunately, money does become the issue; or rather the losing of money to be more precise.
That escape from emotion becomes addictive - as addictive as any drink or drug. Before I even realized it, this self-destructive behavior had become MY coping mechanism. Cannot deal with life? Go to the casino and forget for a while. The darkness, the cool air, the sounds, the personal solitude are soothing.
All that is okay, I guess, if you can afford to go gamble (goodness, how I hate that word) like Paula Deen can but I can't. So a cycle began. I get my check, I go to the casino only intending to spend forty dollars but once there, I can't stop because there is not enough time in the world for the pain to end. It is endless but for just a while I don't think about it. I don't want to leave because I know I know what is waiting for me outside those doors. Next thing I know I'm driving home hating myself for being so weak and for not stopping when I knew I should. I don't have enough money to pay my bills and now I'm suicidal. Only fear of the pain I would cause my husband and children prevent that from happening. In my unsound mind I wonder if the day will come when even that is not enough.
I know what you're thinking - just don't go to the casino in the first place. That would seem the likely answer. I'm intelligent. I know that in the same way an alcoholic or a drug addict knows that what they are doing is wrong. All of us know that help is available - but that's for the other guy. To ask for help means help is needed.
There are two reasons that I decided to write about this. One is entirely selfish. I am hoping by admitting my own weakness , my own self-destructive behavior - and you'll never know how hard that is to do - that I will find the strength to do something about it.
The second reason is because I want to open the dialogue on a subject that is very often swept under the rug. A subject that is seldom, if ever, talked about. I want other wounded souls to know that they are not alone. I want them to know that we can, if we're willing, reach out and help others if only by admitting we are out of rhythm with life and have a problem. There is strength in that.
What I have been doing to cope isn't working; but it is only one example of self-destructive behavior that survivors can find themselves becoming involved in. I know that I am not alone in trying to find an escape from pain and I know that it's a hard subject to talk about. I give praise to those that are strong enough to avoid the pitfalls of hurtful behavior - and there are many; but there are, I fear, many more like myself that find themselves in a bad place in their lives and are doing things that they never thought possible and facing weakness within themselves that they didn't know were there. Grief can do that to people.
Self-destructive behavior comes in many forms. Some seemingly innocent. It can be anything that prevents us from a healthy involvement in life and puts our quality of life in jeopardy. At least that is my definition. Medical professions probably have a different definition altogether but for the sake of pleasing me, lets go with my definition for now. If we're neglecting our family and living an artificial life then I suppose spending far too much time on websites like Facebook might fall into that category as well. Escape can be found there too but each of us will have to make that determination for ourselves as to how much is too much.
Seeking escape and relief from pain can be done in positive ways. We need to study our talents and resources to find avenues of self-fulfillment. We need to find a vehicle or container for our emotions but we must take care that that container does not have the words "Self-Destruction" written on the side.
It isn't going to be easy but I must learn to deliberately reconstruct my life WITHOUT the negative behavior that is destroying my quality of life - before it ends my life.
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I don't want to end on a negative thought so I'm attaching a picture of an art quilt that if I quilted, which I don't, I would love to make. The designer is McKenna Ryan of Pine Needle Designs. She is an amazing artist and quilter. She can be found at: http://www.pineneedles.com/
