Wishing you courage

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying 'I will try again tomorrow'."
- Mary Anne Radmacher

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Lunatic ravings

This sucks.

Really, I hear what the books, support groups, hotlines, and therapists say about grief work... it takes a long freaking time, you have ups and downs, anger is a normal part of grieving, it is perfectly normal to feel how I do.

How can anger be so "normal" when it is such an unproductive part of grief? I am unreasonably, inconsolably angry that the people I have spent so much time supporting and encouraging do not bother to check in every so often to see how I'm doing with the whole deadbaby, crappy marriage, hating life thing. I have heard others say that this is an opportunity to figure out who your real friends are, which sounds ok except that the people who have stopped supporting me include my mother, husband, friend who just months ago said I was like a sister to her ... who exactly is left? This NORMAL ANGER has resulted in me having fewer confidants, fewer resources. Everyone says this is so NORMAL but it feels so wrong and is not resulting in anything good. The problem is the professionals and people experienced with grief all agree that anger is normal, the people who actually interact with the bereaved see them as crazy, mean bitches. People can't handle my grief, anger, and anguish so they have left.

Forgive me for hurting so in such a public way. I am losing patience with this process. I hate that soon an entire year will have been wasted in grief. I hate that there is no end in sight. I hate being told I'm reacting and feeling normally but I still feel miserable. I hate that my family and friends are impatient for me to get over it. I hate that I spent this mornings therapy session crying and crying and nothing my therapist said made me feel any better. Apparently she can't tell me how to feel better - my healing is up to me. I'm afraid I am the least qualified person to get me the point of coming to terms with my son being dead. At the end of the session my therapist said she purposefully did not try to comfort me because she wanted to give me space to express what I was feeling. Throughout the session I was worried that she had joined the ranks of people who can't handle my emotions. I might look for a new therapist soon.

I still hate my life.

4 comments:

janis said...

((hugs)) to you, Annamarie. Yes, it takes freakin' bloody long and sometimes I am just burning to jump out of my skin already, and I have bee tempted to trade myself with the devil, just to get out of this rut.

It sucks that so-called friends are unable to abide with this grief, I feel for you. Can you find a peer grief contact? It may help to be able to physically see and talk to someone who has been through it all. It stinks, but sometimes those we think we can lean on just walk away, because they just can't deal.

I guess this has not been much help... just know that I am here to read all that you want to unload. xo

Sara said...

Anna, I'm so sorry you're feeling so alone. I wish I could wave a magic wand and get you through to the other side of this. You're in my thoughts often.

debbie said...

Oh Anna, I'm so sorry. I know that is entirely inadequate, but I really am. I'm sorry your husband hasn't been there for you and that your friends have deserted you. I'm not sure anything else could suck more right now.

I have a friend who lost her husband this year. He died in a ski accident. Their baby was eight weeks old the day he died. Nobody calls her. Her very best friend fell off the face of the earth and said she was mad at HER for not calling more. WTF? She is as alone and as sad as you. She cries most of the time and barely leaves the house. She is greif stricken in a way that people are afraid to even look at. I try to check in on her as often as I think of it, but even I forget sometimes because she is so out of touch right now. But as completely indescribably sad as she is, I know that she is holding on and getting through this period. I know she knows she may have hardly any friends left when she resurfaces, but she'll start over. She is hanging tough, if not all alone, for him, for Jason, because she will not let his memory fade. Maybe her situation can inspire you even a little. If you resurface with no friends except for those of us hanging with you in the computer, you will be better off than if you had a hundred shitty friends, right? You can do this, I know it. If you cry for the next 10 weeks straight, you can do this. I know it.

msfitzita said...

I wish I had some words of wisdom for you. You'd think I might, having traveled down the road you're on. But, sadly, it's one foot in front of the other - and often two steps back - and in the middle of it all, a LOT of just figuring it out on your own - figuring out what works for you - and trying to ignore the people who don't understand and, in their ignorance, make the journey so much harder for you.

All I can say is that it does get easier. Not better. Never fully better. But easier? Yes.

I'm so very sorry for your loss. So very, very sorry.