General Discussion
Related: Editorials & Other Articles, Issue Forums, Alliance Forums, Region Forums"Take it from an old guy" Person Online Gets Advice On How To Deal With Grief
http://www.thatericalper.com/2015/08/16/person-is-asking-for-advice-hn-how-to-deal-with-grief-this-reply-is-incredible/
Glassunion
(10,201 posts)DawgHouse
(4,019 posts)This made my heart ache a little bit.
DonCoquixote
(13,616 posts)Is what the Internet can and should be, a place where people who need help and information can get it from people who are the most unlikely, yet most effective of heroes.
Glassunion
(10,201 posts)However, it seems to have morphed into a megaphone for stupidity.
LiberalArkie
(15,719 posts)CTyankee
(63,912 posts)I wrote about it...just a personal memoir, not to be published or even shared. But I do believe it started a new way of looking at the grievances I had with people and a realization that the grievance is old, stale and nothing any more, just a habit. Then I let it go.
pinboy3niner
(53,339 posts)I struggled with a lot of psychological trauma over war experience and the loss of too many I knew. At times things were very dark, but eventually I came to believe that I had to go on--because they couldn't. It's a rationale that works, and one that I believe has true merit. We are, after all, the living repository of the memory of them and their lives...
CTyankee
(63,912 posts)even now I have some sadness around the anniversary of my dearest s.i.l.'s death. but her daughters are present at many family events and we all share memories and that is helpful.
pinboy3niner
(53,339 posts)For trauma survivors they can also bring back a lot more from the traumatic experience.
Reaching out to others at those times can be hard to do, but that is one of the best ways to get through the tough times. Family, friends, clergy, mental health professionals in whatever combination one chooses, can make for a strong support system.
Reaching out saved my life more than once.
CTyankee
(63,912 posts)Daisy." We both laughed. But really, seeing so much of her mother in her daughter's face it sets me up to remember her...
awoke_in_2003
(34,582 posts)my mom died on Thanksgiving day in 1981 when I was 13. The wave is indeed smaller, but it is always there.
Mojorabbit
(16,020 posts)The piece is just lovely. Sending you a big comforting hug.
CTyankee
(63,912 posts)at once.
LWolf
(46,179 posts)Which is a good thing, since I'm covered with layers of them.
THIS.
ohheckyeah
(9,314 posts)in may is still swamping me.
pinboy3niner
(53,339 posts)ohheckyeah
(9,314 posts)JHB
(37,160 posts)And copying the text from the original reddit post in case the image link in the OP ever gets broken:
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.
As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.