On Death and Grieving...

[Wuyabi]

My mother committed suicide early last month. I'm going to grief counseling in a few days, but I've been struggling with how to deal with the loss in the meantime, and I'd like to ask those of you reading this what helped you through the losses and dark times in your lives.  

[Vikabro]

When going though a time like that I've drink lots of soda. Or find ways to keep myself distracted. Most of the time the distractions came in form of video games.

I've even had root beer then, and I don't even like root beer.  

[Wuyabi]

Vikabro

I've even had root beer then, and I don't even like root beer.

Khalil Gibran

"It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the
Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.”

 

[Wuyabi]

Okay, I need some more advice. I've tried to write about the good memories of Mom. Most of them centered around food she made and clothes she sewed. She was the classic traditionalist housewife.
But, like some of those sorts of women, there was a lot of resentment brewing underneath the surface. She had bipolar disorder and did not believe in the efficacy of psychiatric drugs, was an alcoholic for much of her life, and had a raging temper.
It's very hard to separate the good memories from the bad, because there were always stormclouds on the horizon. How do I do it?  

[wellwisher]

Don't. Don't just write about the good. Remember her in her entirety.The good and the bad. Maybe you'll only talk about the good, but don't forget the rest of her. If you're writing a speech or a memorial for her, write about what good things you remember. But if you're writing about her to keep her memory alive, remember as much as you can, good, bad, neutral, The times that things were going well, the times things weren't.

Talk about the food, and the sewing. Don't be afraid to talk about the bipolar disorder. You don't need to speak out about her temper, alcoholism, or her disbelief in the effectiveness of drugs. But don't forget those parts of her. Be true to what you remember of her.  

[Wuyabi]

Thank you. I'll try to keep you guys updated on how counseling is going.  

[Wuyabi]

My counselor's advice to me this week was to try and find my happy place. I've got one, but Mom... she had mentioned to me once that she could never find hers. Finding my own seems almost guilty.

Tapes like this one help:  

[Wuyabi]

I'll be visiting Mom's grave this weekend. I hope all goes well. I'd feel weird talking to her headstone, or other things people do to cope, especially since I'll have an escort along, but maybe I will talk, just the same.  

[Wuyabi]

I couldn't make it out to the grave. I got really pissed because my sister said that she was the most psychologically literate of the family, and therefore, far more responsible than even Mom's psychologist for the diagnosis and proper treatment of Mom's depression. (Yes, she tells herself she's a superwoman all the time. Yes, she has control issues. Yes, she does it to avoid her emotions. Yes, I'm getting really tired of it. )  

[Wuyabi]

Recovering from Mother's Day. Found a couple of articles on remembrances of mothers. Also found a new playlist utility, so that's good. Sis seems to have calmed down after journalling. She offered to buy me a nice journal, but the expensive ones are a beautiful waste of money.  

[Wuyabi]

Started reading a new book. It's great fun, and very intriguing, even though there's some cliche bits and I think I can guess a major twist, but the lead character's mom kills herself before the story proper starts. I seem to be stumbling across reminders of my situation everywhere. My counselor wants me to journal more, and Sis says to limit myself to a page a day. On the upside, I went to a local fast food joint and ate tacos and seasoned tater-tots.  

[Kiradalia]

Why would your sis say to limit you? Bottling things up in this situation is probably the worst thing you can do. Fill the whole damn journal, then start on another one. If that's what it takes. Get the feelings, the thoughts you have out and on paper.

You mind, it can blur and and change memories into things that were never really how it was, given enough time. But writing, that's set in stone. You can preserve memories fresh from how it was and look back on it without having to think to remember. And how you felt in that moment when you were writing it will never change.

Also, writing things down means you have to think about them. That can FEEL bad, but at least for me, it's really necessary. Thinking about things until the thought is exhausted can kinda reign in the beast of emotions, if you know what I mean.

I dunno, I'll be real with you Wuyabi, there is no great fix to this situation. There is coping, there is moving on, but you're going to a counselor, you're journaling. You are doing what you can. Be proud of that.

And if you need someone to talk to, feel free to PM me! I'd be happy to listen~  

[Wuyabi]

Kiradalia

Why would your sis say to limit you? Bottling things up in this situation is probably the worst thing you can do. Fill the whole damn journal, then start on another one. If that's what it takes. Get the feelings, the thoughts you have out and on paper.

I do, and will, but both Sis and my counselor say that dwelling on things too much without distracting myself or taking a break for a while in between entries, I'll get depressed. Thank you for your support.  

[Dusk-Rhyme]

for me is was knowing about death. the god of death is beautiful and kind to the things in the world. not killing but giving rest and new life to thoes that need it. i wish you well and no pain to come.  

[Abrien Sliver]

I've lost two sons, two years apart. When I lost Ian, my first, I was away with the military, I got the news on Christmas eve because that was the first time I'd gotten a chance to call home. They wanted to send me home, but I didn't want to go. I redoubled my efforts and buried myself in work. It helped, some. I cried every night and slept none of it. I regret not being strong enough to go home. The second time, I was home. Issac wasn't even born yet, my wife woke up bleeding and we took her to the emergency room at the hospital I then worked at, I watched as what was left of Issac come out of my wife. She was so distraught she tried to kill herself later that week, I had to pull her from the balcony edge, she'd almost gotten away with it. I had to have her institutionalized, I was leaving for work for a month out of state. I never learned to deal with grief. But while she was in that hospital, that's all they taught her how to do. She has made paintings for our boys, we have gotten tattoos at her behest, a memorial plaque for Issac since we had nothing to bury, She writes to them in journals and we speak openly and candidly about who they were, not in sadness, but in a wistful, want to be back in those times. My rabbi always told me that death is apart of life. it should not be shied away from, but embraced. with out death life would be meaningless. The fact that we are finite is why we do things that are memorable, and that's my advice to you, do things that are memorable to your mother. honor her spirit by not letting this hold you back.