I have no official credentials, nothing on paper, but I have a ridiculous amount of experience. I've done research on grief and trauma to make sense of my own, and I've definitely noticed the difference between generic articles, and those written by people who have had a significant loss. Generic articles are lifeless, sometimes even wrong when looking at my situation. The ones written by those who have been through it resonate. That's why I want to share everything I can to help people not feel alone in their confusion. I want you to know, that even if you haven't been through it, there are ways you can help people grieving not feel alone, but also give tips on what not to say, because saying the wrong thing can make someone feel more isolated. Even if the intentions were good.
Here's the "credentials" I do have:
- At the age of 3 (or 4) my Popop died. I don't remember it, but based on what I've been learning lately, it probably still had an effect on me.
- Somewhere between the ages of 5 and 8 a woman I loved very much died. She had been ill for many many years, perhaps all her life. I don't think I knew how sick she was, but I certainly knew she was frail. I remember sitting in the car with my mom and feeling very sad and missing her.
- When I was 16 I lost a dear friend. He had a rare disease (including him, only 5 people in the USA had it) which caused him a lot of pain. He died from huffing air freshener, probably trying to aleive some of the pain, but he ended up overdosing. It was a hard loss, but what helped was knowing how much he LOVED life. It may have been a short one, but he made it a good one.
- 2 months later, another dear friend of mine died. This time it was suicide. I admit I still have a hard time with this death. He did not love life. In fact, most people, he really didn't like. For some reason, he loved me. I've never been able to make sense of it because we were opposites, but I loved him too. I think he knew that - I hope he did. But as he got more into drugs, it was harder for me to be friends with him because he less and less showed the person I knew he was. I had to distance myself because it was hard to watch, but I continued to love him all the same, and now I get to live with some guilt over it.
- When I was 19 (I think), my one grandma died. She was 91, so it was certainly a different experience than losing someone who should have lived 6 times longer than they did. The problem with grief is that after each death, you grieve all the deaths that happened before, especially if you didn't process those deaths. So my guilt amplified because I didn't do everything I could possibly do for her.
- Somewhere in my early college years, I can't exactly remember when, one of my very dearest friends lost his mom. A trauma counselor I know, love, and respect greatly said during this time that watching someone go through this is like watching a bad car crash. I've only seen small car crashes and those shake me up enough to see, so seeing a bad one is certainly enough to traumatize you even though you weren't in the car. I love my friends so intensely, I certainly do hurt because they hurt.
- At the age of 24 two more people I knew died. The first from an overdose, the second to suicide. Deja Vu. I was not as close to them as the other deaths up to this point. Mostly I hung out with them here and there because we shared friends. I certainly liked them very much, and their deaths were challenging, but they were challenging because of everything it brought up from what I'd already experienced. And again, I love my friends so intensely, I hurt because they hurt.
- When I was 25, the worst one yet hit. A family with two parents who "adopted" me and my sister as their own when I was barely a teenager. Their 4 sons were dear friends of ours then became our "brothers." We spend a lot of time at their house over the years, and as emotionally intelligent people, helped us learn so much about our own emotions and how to improve ourselves. They were key players in our large community of amazing people we were lucky enough to grow up with. The second oldest son married one of my best friends. In fact, I was the least close with him out of all the brothers, but got to know him much better through her. They had three amazing children. He started having some mental struggles. He put all his energy in to fighting the Good battle and getting others around him to do the same, especially teens. He did so much good for those around him, but the mental struggles won in the end. When their youngest child was only 3 months old, he took his life. It was devastating for the entire community. Almost everyone (all except the direct family) had no idea what he was going through and it was a complete shock. I didn't know how to handle it, so I jumped in to do everything I could for the family. I would cry when I needed to, so I thought I was taking care of myself, but I was SO wrong. Being so close to the ENTIRE family, it turned out to be more than I could handle. 2 weeks after the death, I started losing control over my emotions. Tiny things would trigger me into having overwhelming anxiety and I would cry with no idea why. I felt like I had a thick cloud all around me, I could function, and my anger was amplified. I didn't feel like myself. I thought I was going crazy. I knew better than to kill myself, but I was praying to die because I did not want to live feeling like that. Finally, I met with that counselor I love who told me I was the definition of traumatized and was so relieved to have a name to these uncontrollable things going on with me. It wasn't until recently I looked up the definition. He was absolutely right. Of all things, it was energy work that got me back to normal. Now, of course, I'm a huge believer. It saved my life. From then on my journey of learning to take care of myself started. I call this part of my life when I "broke" because - it's accurate to how I felt. I was broken. Taking care of myself since then has been a necessity rather than a luxury. I have no choice and no energy sacrifice myself to help others. And, by taking care of myself, I'm much better at taking care of others. It's been invaluable, but I would never wish this to be the journey for anyone to learn how to take care of themselves.
- Less than a year later, my other grandmother died. My mom, sister, and I lived with her several years during my life, so she was a lot like another mother rather than a grandmother. We were incredibly close. However, with all I had experienced, I made a point to not have any regrets with her. I was sure to spend a lot of time with her, but not to where it interfered with me taking care of me. I made very conscious decisions with my life. While the loss was very hard, and I still miss her all the time, I do not have anything I wish I had done differently.
- Now I am 27, and 2 and a half weeks ago the second to youngest of the family of 4 boys - brother of the one who took his life - has taken his life. During this last year, I lived with him and his dad. For the few years before that, I did a lot of travelling with him and his mom. We became close. There was always some concern with him, but during the last year he was in bad shape. In and out of the hospital due to being suicidal. He at least had severe depression, but very well could have, and probably did have, other issues going on like his brother. We knew it would take a miracle for things to turn around for him, but you don't lose hope in a situation like this. Unfortunately, he succeeded this time. And no matter how much you are trying to prepare yourself for the possibility, there's no way to prepare. It's been incredibly tough, ups and downs happen constantly, but with all the work I've done through my other losses, it's been incredible to be so aware of where I am in the process - even being aware of I have no idea how I will respond. That's part of why I want to write this blog. Maybe with being "in it" I'll be able to share a more complete picture.
Thank you for reading this. I hope you learn something valuable.
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