It's been three months since I created and made exactly one entry
to this blog. I haven't forgotten about it. I haven't run out of things to say.
I certainly haven't stopped grieving Linda's passing. Grief is difficult. Grief
is incredibly hard. It's devastating and it’s monotonous. Truth
be told, grieving may be the second most trying thing I have ever done.
Watching my beloved Linda pass away was the most gut-wrenching, demoralizing,
dehumanizing thing I've ever had to do.
So here it is. Five months later. What can I say I've learned
(besides the whole "grief is really hard" thing)? Over the next few
blog entries, I'll share with you the lessons I've learned so far. (NOTE:
Experiences may differ depending on griever. Not valid in all 50 states.
Professional griever on closed course. Do not try on your own. Grief may be
closer than it appears in the mirror. Not FDA approved. Some restrictions
apply)
First, most important Commandment of Grief: There is no right way
to grieve. Period. Anyone tries to tell you how to do it, do not waste your
time with them. Leave. Quickly. Make up any excuse that gets you away soonest.
"Oh, I have to go wash my stereo system". "My cousin's just
called and I need to attend his one-armed, tone deaf kid's xylophone recital".
"Holy Crap! My cat's on fire!". It doesn't matter, Get away from
anyone who tells you how you should be acting, or regurgitates the 5
steps to grieving they learned in their undergrad psych course they took once
to get that online degree in Dutch Art History. Grief support is vital and
indispensable (we'll discuss that later). Grief itself? Not a team sport.
Certainly not a sport where you should take coaching advice from amateurs. Who
are amateurs? Anyone that 1) isn't you or 2) doesn't have the word
"grief" or counselor" somewhere in their job title.
I see a wonderful grief counselor. I say wonderful, though I would
often describe her as more of a pain, but that’s unfair, What is accurate,
painfully so, is that she forces me to do the one thing I asked her to help me
with shortly before Linda passed away, namely, mindfully grieve the loss of
9/10 of my life. I want to be deliberate in my grieving and my grief counselor
helps me with this. She also sent me to a bereavement support group, a support
system I at once despise and love. My apprehension being: Hey, I'm a
dysfunctional mess. Why am I teaming up with 15 other folks who probably have
worse coping skills than I do? Does this Grief Counselor mental health
"professional" not see where this can go hideously wrong?
Turns out, sometimes just seeing how messed up others are can be of great
benefit to you. Also, the act of helping others helps you. Yeah, that sounds
New Age'y like I should break out the tie-dyed hemp shirts and matching
flip-flops, but I'll be skinned alive if it isn't true.
Speaking of being skinned alive, next time I'll tell you how grief
will no-kidding make you fell like you're locked up naked in a Syrian prison
with an angry man, a tarp, channel locks, and a cheese grater.
