Coping

An old coworker friend called me last week, and we talked for an hour about the grief process. Her mom died six years ago and she is having a hard time coming to terms with the loss. She wanted to know how I've handled the grief process since I've done it three times now. She said I am an "inspiration" to her because of how "normal" I've turned out. Oh, Lordy. If only she knew.

I was quick to clarify that "normal" is relative. And the way I am today does not genuinely reflect all the years of grief, anxiety attacks and fears that I had after my family members died. I may have come through it all looking okay, but there are still huge rips in the fabric of my soul. Let this be a lesson: the way someone appears on the outside and the way they actually are inside are often two completely separate things.

I think the difference is I choose to focus on living instead of dying. Although, trust me, I have also done lots of focusing on the dying part too. I have my funeral (mostly) planned out, and often think of what I'd like to leave behind - which is yet another reason I started this blog. Besides, what normal 30-year-old asks friends to commit to speaking at her funeral, and tells those said friends that she'll "renegotiate" their contracts every five years?

I digress. Back to my friend, C. I know she called me for help, but I feel like I also got help by talking to her. I believe that when someone goes through something, whether it's divorce or a bad customer service experience or postpartum depression or a life-altering illness, it is your responsibility to share what you've learned with others who are crossing the same bridge. I believe that it's our God-given duty to help each other. It states in the Bible in Galatians 6:2, "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." Y'all who know me know that I don't often quote Scripture, but this is one that is worth quoting, especially in this context.

I was blessed (or cursed, whichever way you see it) to learn about the fragility of life at the early age of 22. My brother's death forever changed my thinking, and I realized that I am now in a lonely fraternity of others who have lost close loved ones (not people like grandparents or old aunts and uncles). Before my brother's death, I had no idea how sad a birthday could be. I didn't even think to remember the anniversary of a friend's sibling's death. Back then, my thinking was, "Who would be so morbid as to keep remembering a death?" Oh, how I have changed. Until you've lost someone incredibly close to you, you have no idea how comforting it is to hear from a friend that they remember that person too. Just to get a card or a phone call or a mention of your loved one on those emotional days is loving beyond measure. It makes you feel less lonely knowing that someone else is keeping your loved one alive in their hearts too.

In talking to my friend C, I found it hard to pinpoint one exact piece of advice for her about how to process her grief. I told her the one thing that doesn't help, and that is the "just get over it" advice that the world likes to cram down your throat. I told her that no matter what, she'll never "just get over" a major loss like the death of her mother. But she can learn to live with it, and still have joy in her life despite the sadness.

For four years after my brother died, I barely processed my grief. I thought the only time I was "allowed" to grieve him was in October, the month of his birthday and his death day. Can you imagine trying to hold back a flood of emotions by only letting out a trickle of tears twice a year? Now you know why I started having anxiety attacks, and my walls started crumbling in the year 2000. Finally, near the end of that year, I started seeing a Christian counselor. I continued seeing her for almost three years, and I credit her for a majority of my "recovery." Talking about my pain was excruciating at some points, but each telling of the story lessened it by just a teeny tiny bit. And talking to others (Dan, my friends, coworkers, my family) helped me process some of the pain. I told my friend C that the number one thing she HAS to do is to talk to someone. Not necessarily a counselor (although I think that is a vital part), but maybe a support group or a trusted friend.

The second thing I told C was that she needs to exercise. Exercise releases natural endorphins, and can help take the place of anti-depression medication (in some instances, but not all - of course). Exercise begets sleep, which can be hard to come by when you're grieving. Exercise also makes you feel alive at a time when you feel numb or you feel like your heart has been ripped out of your chest.

The third thing I suggested was writing: a journal, a blog, or maybe even letters to the dead. I know writing isn't for everyone (it feels like breathing for me), but it is cathartic to empty the swirling thoughts out of your head.

Lastly, I told C to use music as a tool to help her cope. You might scoff, but I have a "Grief Songs" playlist on my iPod. There are songs that were my loved ones' favorites, as well as depressing songs and also songs about reuniting. The 36 songs include "Go Rest High On that Mountain" by Vince Gill, "Can You Hear Me When I Talk to You" by Ashley Gearing, "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" from Phantom of the Opera, and "Who You'd Be Today" by Kenny Chesney. These types of "grief songs" help me at the times when I just need to cry. And sometimes, I need songs to help uplift me and remind me to go out and LIVE. That's a whole separate playlist! Music has become a dependable way for me to ride my emotions. Besides, nothing beats driving in the car, singing my lungs out with the music cranked at max volume. It's good for the soul.

So... there you go. Those are my four ways of coping. The reason I'm blogging about this is because I know there are some of you out there who read my blog and who have gone through the death of a close loved one. I am hoping that you will take a moment and leave a comment to let me know what ways you have coped with your losses, or maybe even suggest more grief songs. That way we can all bear one another's burdens. If we share our grief, it makes the load much easier to carry.