How about trying to write your feelings in a journal? My example is not regarding the death of a friend or loved one but once after a particularly devastating breakup with a girlfriend (I thought she was 'the one'), I took to writing my thoughts in a journal. It really helped and was a great outlet for me to just pour out my feelings without having to burden people with it. It was also a great way to vent to and about her without actually talking to her and saying really nasty things I wouldn't be able to take back. My sister and I are very close and I was able to open up to her about it but I didn't want to burden her with continually crying in my milk (so to speak) about it so I took pen to paper. I'm not saying it would work for everyone but it helped me immensely. Over time, the entries became fewer and farer (is that a word?) between until I no longer needed to write anymore.
Thank you all for your replies, and I'm sorry for not responding sooner. I've been in a deep depression that began when something related to my family member's hospitalization. It kinda came to a head yesterday after time and again having events pile up on that depression. I was one nap away from ending my existence. I took that nap, pondered the dream I had, and decided to speak up to my family members and friends. This is getting beyond the scope of this thread, but for anyone interested, I hope to be on the road to recovery now. My biggest regret is that the family that had died last Friday was the only one with answers to my childhood. My remaining parent "doesn't keep track of the details", unless, of course, they're related to any number of my other immediate and extended family.
Just keep in mind that other family members may have answers that you don't know they have. Hang in there.
Think of death as the next phase. It is part of the cycle of life. Death is what makes life precious. Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamonds glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand t my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die. Mary Elizabeth Frye
There's nothing you can do but move on with your life. It makes me feel better knowing I can always revisit them in my head via memories anytime I want and, as with most negative things, I tend to use said things as fuel for improvement, to let the loss lead to a gain. IE, feeling sad, make an effort to start a new routine that makes you happy because of it. Makes losing them not a negative, they'd be happy it had a positive outlook, and you get to stop feeling that way. Lemons from lemonade, I suppose. But that's just me.
Scribble, I'm sorry for your loss. For what it's worth, I lost my mom two years and nearly five months ago. The way I lost her was a hell I wouldn't wish on anyone. I've been in therapy since four months after it happened. I learned that I had to let myself hurt. I let myself be angry. I let myself cry. I also learned you never "get over it"; you learn instead to be okay with the feeling that the pain eases but never entirely disappears. At the oddest of times, you find that person's shadow. The grief tsunami will hit you, or you'll think of that thing you did together and laugh.
I have so much respect for people who can stay positive and move on. My grandfather had a hard time in WW 2. He lost in 3 years his wife to cancer when his 8 children where very young, his cattle to a dissease and his mother. Luckily his found a new wife, survived 2 strokes without damage and lost a pregnant daughter to suïcide. But till his death he stayed positive and was nice to everybody. He will always be my rolemodel
I don't have much experience not much advice Scribble, but...people. Whether it's on here, friends, family, whatever. People - lean on them. Sorry for your loss.
Thank you all. Even if you don't have any specific advice, it's nice to know that people do care. I know I've had my rough times lately, and I have been running on a short fuse, but overall I think I'm handling this fairly well. I was hoping I'd be able to lean on my mom for support and had even mentioned it to her that of course, she could take as much time as she needed, but I would eventually need my mom. Well, she's been leaning on me far more than I thought. I'm totally fine with that and am happy to help however I can, but I don't have the specific support I need from my immediate family, which is now my mom and my brother. He does not talk about feelings, at all. She's understandably still a mess. I have a friend that lost his dad about eight years ago or so, and I've been able to talk to him when I've needed to, but he honestly didn't know my dad the way my mom and brother did. This sucks, and I have many, many, many regrets, but I'm getting on with life. And to those that have said that it will hit at the oddest of times, you're exactly right. I'll be in the middle of something and I'll get sudden pangs of missing my dad, of realizing that I can no longer turn to him for advice on life or maintaining my house or car or anything. He also carried all of my childhood memories. I have a few strong emotional memories of my past, but my mom has retained almost none. All of my answers are gone with no hope of recovery.
One bit of advice I must give you, Scribble, is that you can't let the grief consume you. My mom never became okay with that open space where her mom once resided. I watched how she was for most of my life. She wanted our mother-daughter relationship to resemble the one that she had with her mom. But it could never be.
I lost my dad young. If I lost my brother though...that would be 1000x worse. But for me...I keep shit to myself for a while, but when I want to talk about it, I do...it turns out talking about my dad's cancer actually saved a person I worked with....so I am now a huge advocate of "talking about it when you are ready". To anyone, everyone. I wasn't dick about it..I just put it where it belonged. Because you never know....your experience may save another.
I lost my brother almost two years ago and I guess I talk about it too much. Nothing has hurt like it before. I had no idea I loved him so much. He didn't either We knew stuff about each other, grew up together. He was my big brother and I miss him so painfully.
You be thankful for that. The death of a loved one is the worst thing that can happen in your life and I wouldn't wish it on anybody. I lost my Grandparents and my mom in 1991, 1992, and 2003 and I have never gotten over them. That's why I always say life has been shit since 2003 because yes, while I've had a few good times in the years since, life just hasn't been the same without the three people who raised and loved me first, and it just never will be again. It's also why I passionately hate character deaths in fiction. I always associate them with my three real life losses. Why anybody would want death in fiction--a controlable situation unlike real life--is beyond me. It isn't "deep" or "edgy". It's disgusting and evil, and should be avoided where it can be. Scribble, you have my condolences and best wishes. The only thing I can tell you is to hang on tight and survive. It's all you can really do in this situation.
I am, every day. Mom and Dad celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary last week. I know how lucky I am. We lost my Mother In Law a few years ago and although it hit me, seeing what it did to my wife was awful.
This evening has been difficult, perhaps brought upon by the resurgence of this thread. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate all suggestions and support and everyone relaying their personal feelings and techniques. I was mowing my mom's yard. It needed it. Badly. I started thinking about my own yard and how desperate it is in need of a good mowing. I was thinking about how my mower needs oil after turning it upside down to replace the blade and that I need to figure out what kind of oil to get. Then, on instinct, I thought to myself, "Well, I could just ask dad." Oh. Right. That was early in the mowing which took about an hour or so. I spent most of that time tearing up and sobbing and spitting out all of the snot that was gathering in the back of my throat.
I like to read this poem by the great Hebrew poet, Judah Halevi. ‘Tis a fearful thing to love what death can touch. A fearful thing to love, to hope, to dream, to be – to be, And oh, to lose. A thing for fools, this, And a holy thing, a holy thing to love. For your life has lived in me, your laugh once lifted me, your word was gift to me. To remember this brings painful joy. ‘Tis a human thing, love, a holy thing, to love what death has touched. Judah Halevi (1075 – 1141)
If it hurts, it's because they mattered...quite good as opposed to the alternative. Everyone has regrets, guilt, pain. I get through it daily by refusing to let it win. The more it hurts, the more fuel I have to push it back. To quote someone...."I need my pain". the depression wants you to give up...not have fun. knowing that's how it works, i can force myself to find things that are good. It also helps to know that anything and anyone can be defeated in a comical manner: ...hope that helps.
I don't deal with death/grief. At least, not in a manner I think anyone would consider healthy. I switch off, hit the autopilot, disassociate, whatever you call it when you refuse to have feelings but instead look at the situation analytically: "Oh, this is a thing which has happened and I'm going to have to deal with. That's unfortunate. Now let me figure out the things I will have to do." The emotional outburst may not come for months, or even longer. My dad passed away exactly a year ago today. I wasn't able to express any deep feelings about it until last night. And even that was by an extraordinarily strange path. I had a dream. My dad wasn't in it. But in the dream, I was taking care of an elderly dachshund (the type of dog my parents had through most of my childhood) and a small young gray cat. I knew the dog was on its last legs. Its muzzle was grey, it was off its feed, and it wobbled on unsteady feet. And I could kind of read its mind. It wanted to go outside. So I grabbed a handful of kibble and walked with it out on our roofed porch, the cat running ahead. And there was a bright ray of sunshine shining at the edge of the porch, and I could feel the dog thinking "I'm just going to take a nap... in the sun... for a little while." And I knew, it was time. I sat down on the porch, in the sun, and the dog curled up half in my lap, half on the carpet. I petted it. And the cat came back, and rubbed its head against the dog's head. And that was the end. I woke up sobbing my lungs out, which woke up the wife, who couldn't tell if I was crying or choking, and then once I pulled it together I told her about the dream, and everything came right back again 3x worse. And that's the first time I've cried about anything in... probably 15 years. I don't recommend it.