GRIEF IN PHASES

I believe in the 5 stages of grief.  Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.   I also believe there are two phases of grief.

Every one's journey through the grief process is different.  Maybe as unique as our DNA.  I can only tell you about mine, this time around, and trust me I have gotten really good at grieving.

I haven't written a blog in a few weeks because I have been fighting the toughest spell of grief so far. If grief truly comes in waves, this one has caused me to lose my heading and I have been unable to keep the shore in my line of sight.

This pain, that I cannot explain or even give a name to, has covered  my soul.  It isn't just emotional or physical. It is both conscious and unconscious. To define it with a description of words feels so inadequate.

GRIEF (PHASE ONE)

The first phase of grief is identifiable by being able to make the pain subside in some way, some how and for some amount of time.  The pain resides in your heart.  It is acute, sharp and like nothing you have ever known before.  But the key is, you can find ways to cope with the pain.

Not long ago I found myself wishing I drank alcohol in large amounts, the stronger the better. Because I thought about how nice it would be to numb the pain.  I like a good glass of wine, but I admit I hate hangovers.  Still if it worked, then bring on the hangover.  

I wanted a way to run away from the emotional pain and to live in a sea of denial.  At least just for a little while, to give my heart a rest.  It made me think of so many people that are able to do this, they find whatever works for them, if it stops their minds from consciously accepting the person is gone for good and their hearts from hurting, then why not?  Sign me up!

So I wonder now if there isn't two parts to grief.  The first part, where you are able to run from it, numb it, avoid it or deny it.  This is the stage where something, anything from alcohol, drugs, retail therapy, a new relationship or a new fish named Dave (obviously my choice) works.  It makes things better at least for a moment, an hour, a day.  I think some people can stay in this phase forever if they work hard enough at it.

I think grief phase one is where we can deny that we feel the pain because sometimes we don't.  We can be angry that the pain comes back, but we have found our coping mechanism that will allow us to  go back to denying the pain.  And we can bargain with the pain, tell it we will deal with it another day if it just lets us stop hurting today.

GRIEF (PHASE TWO)

The "pain" moves to our souls, our core, our being, our frame of reference.  The part of us that guides us and gives us direction in life.

You know you have moved on to phase two because nothing and I mean nothing makes this pain better.

Retail therapy ALWAYS makes me feel better, and even that is not working.

A great example, I indulged in a new Apple watch, which I love.  Nope, didn't change the pain. And you know how much I love a new gadget.

I bought more fish, even named one "Dave 2".  Nope, didn't make it better.

I reached out to friends and family, in my own way, without telling them I needed something from them.  I had some great conversations, even though they had no idea how much I was hurting.  But the pain didn't back off.

I talked non-stop to Dave.  I prayed to God for relief.  And still no change.  The pain just wouldn't leave or let up.  I could feel it hardening on my soul, blocking what I saw in front of me, blurring what I remembered behind me and locking me into the present with no idea where to go.

It settles in and makes itself at home.  As if the sadness becomes molten liquid silver, the heat is measured by the depth of the loss.  It pours over my soul and eventually hardens, surrounding my self to encase all that is and all that was.

It is beautiful in such a devastating way.

FINDING MY DIRECTION

One day a couple of weeks ago, I drove around not having a direction to go until I ended up at church.  I sat in the chapel and I cried, harder than I have ever cried before.  Because the pain was too much to bear and I didn't know how to fix my broken soul.  I wanted God to send a priest in,  so he could tell me that someday I would be okay.

No one came in and I cried alone.

I talked to God and I talked to Dave. I begged God, I begged Dave. And in the silence of all that is holy, I listened.

I didn't ask God to take the pain away, I knew this was the price I paid to have loved so deeply.

I didn't ask God to give me a sign that eventually I would be okay, because I  knew through my faith that I would be.

I didn't ask God why this happened to Dave or why it happened to me.  Because I knew in my heart the answer was "why not Dave, why not me."

So I asked God for directions.  I had no idea what direction to go in.  I was lost at sea and could not find the shore.  I begged Him to help me find my way,  to just point me in the right direction. I just wanted  Him to shine a light so I could find my heading.

I wasn't looking for God to give me the answers to the test, to tell me if I make this choice or go this direction, all would be right.  I know that my choices will be the only thing that decides whether the direction I head in is right or wrong.  There is no guarantee that life will be easy or any resemblance of what I want it to be, not even God is going to give me that.

But this is the first time in my life I have ever been absent of knowing which way to turn.

And now as I write this,  I realize that what I was asking God for was hope.  Wow, I wanted Him to let me feel hope.  I think if I had realized that hope was what I was seeking instead of just asking for directions, I wouldn't have been as open to receiving His help.  I am logical you know, I believe I would have left thinking if hope was what I needed then I would  have to get through the grief before I could ever feel the joy of hope. Never understanding that it would be hope itself that gave me my direction.

I left accepting God's will.  But the pain was still there.  Just as strong, just as heavy. It wasn't as if I was expecting a miracle or God to stop what He was doing to show me my direction.

A few days after that visit,  I found my direction.  Some could say it was going to happen anyway or it is all coincidence.   That is ok, I know what I know and I am good with that.  It isn't the time to share what the direction is yet, but I promise I will when the time is right.  And since then even Dave has been sending me signs that I am heading the right way, I guess he was listening that day in the church too.

When I left the church, I had peace in my heart but I was beginning to understand the acceptance of grief, is acceptance that the pain you feel in your soul does not go away, it doesn't lessen.  It is what you live with, your new normal, your stronger soul.

I have a long way to go before the pain, the weight of the loss is bearable enough that breathing becomes easy again.

I have only just begun to allow the conscious realization, along with the emotions, that Dave IS truly gone from this life, for now to enter and take residence in my mind.  I can last for a few moments before it hurts too much and I push it back out of my mind.

But I know I am moving in the right direction because at least for just those few moments I have accepted his death and my survival.

That gives me hope.