The 25th Anniversary

Our culture has made grief and death a concept in which we are also expected to bury our feelings, along with our loved one--mostly so that we do not make others uncomfortable. However, I have been doing counseling long enough now that I have watched buried grief and loss fester into horrible problems. It is heartbreaking to see people that have tried to carry such weight alone for so many years and the other places that those feelings decide to emerge--anger, depression, self-loathing, etc. We would be healthier as a whole, if we could just express grief as it emerges instead of trying to hide it or pretend it doesn't exist.

We aren't broken, we don't need fixed--we are grieving. Many people don't understand until it happens to them. You never "get over it"--some days are just easier than others. Some days it hits so hard that you can't breathe. The healthiest thing we can do is acknowledge our grief, embrace it, and accept that it is a part of us--just as our loved ones once were.  I am not alone in these thoughts.  While this quote is regarding a different type of loss/grief--it still applies: "Everyone who goes through loss must deal with grief. If you don’t face your feelings, they’ll continue to sit inside and stir up negative emotions until they’re finally free. Instead of suppressing your anger and depression, acknowledge that they’re there and treat them with the respect they deserve. Then give yourself permission to fully feel them and let them run their course. The sooner you start the grieving process, the sooner you’ll find acceptance." (quote from Stroke Recovery Tips)

January 10, 2018 marked 25 years since my mother was murdered. My day was a lot harder than I expected it to be. I really thought that I would be fine... Not so much.  I think part of what made it so challenging was a coworker sharing her struggles with her own mom and I get it, other people still have moms and their moms drive them crazy. It was still just so hard listening to her go on and on about her issues with her mother, when I would trade everything in my life for one more minute with my own mom.  I realize that she was just frustrated and needed to vent, and most times I can handle that--however, Wednesday was not that day. It may have been, if all of the other awful in my day had not also happened--but paired with the other events of my day, I was already at an emotional breaking point and I just couldn't take it.

It crushed me to the point that I left the room several times in tears and had to go drive around for a while after I left before I was pulled together enough to return to work. I really didn't expect any of it to hit like it did. That may be the worst part about grief--you can have a handle on it 99% of the time, but that 1% of the time can be a huge sucker punch and you never know what will trigger it or when it is going to hit.  Seems to me, some days you can simply function a bit longer or better than others. And then there are the days that it hurts as much as it did when it first happened.  Those moments leave an imprint--every detail of those moments are etched in a place in your heart that always remembers. I think that is why triggers are so fierce and overwhelming at times--the brain captures those details and you can be mindlessly going through a normal day when one little thing can trigger the memories--a scent, a song, a simple word.

While the hardest anniversaries for me were the first, the tenth, and what would have been her sixtieth birthday--the 25th anniversary of her death did definitely catch me at times and made me fall.   I can’t deny that it is hard for me to admit my grief even now; after all, when my dad tried to have me committed in 2010 after the bad breakup, including having to get a PFA (Protection From Abuse) against the partner, it was those events that led to this entire blog being created.  My dad also included that I "still cry over my dead mom" as part of those grounds for attempting to have me put away. Yes, I shed tears then--it would have been her sixtieth birthday and even though she died at 42, it hit me hard.  He never was comfortable with our grief, even when the murder first happened.  I still struggle with shame regarding my grief, even now, which really is ridiculous.  She was my best friend, my soulmate, my mother, my guidance, my source of unconditional love, and my only support.  I have spent these past 25 years with a hole in my heart and soul that people don't realize and that I simply cannot fill.  My grief is real.  It is sad that some feel that shame should be added to that pain…