Back to Regular Life...Sometimes Happy, Sometimes Sad

 

It’s not always Erik’s fault

A while back, I was a little upset or depressed about some personal issues which had nothing to do with the fact that I was missing Erik.  I suddenly realized, in the aftermath of a notable tragedy such as the loss of a loved one, that most people will assume that any struggle or sadness you have is because of your grief or mourning.  So I allowed my dark humor to kick in, and if I chose to say to someone that I was upset or sad, I would quickly add…”and it’s not Erik’s fault!!...poor Erik, he’s not even here and he gets blamed for everything!”.

Now it seems that in a perfect world, anyone recovering from a suicide loss should somehow be blessed with a totally perfect life in every other way, so we could focus on our grieving.  Unfortunately, as we all know, (suicide survivors more than anyone), it is not a perfect world.  So, whatever shortcomings, challenges, or problems we faced before the loss of our loved one, will continue to be there afterwards as well.  The difference in this being, our ability to deal with them or how we react to them will be different.

I have found I have two different reactions to life challenges since I have experienced my survival process.  I think the more predominant one is that there aren’t very many things that really seem worth getting upset over.  At first, this was a very conscious reaction, and I had to guard against being impatient with people who were upset over something that in my mind was not worth the energy.  Initially, I had to be really careful not to just roll my eyes and say, “Are you kidding me?  What the heck would you do if your son died?”  I felt grateful that I at least realized in my head that just because I was extraordinarily sad, it didn’t mean that other people weren’t entitled to their own feelings of anxiety or sadness over what was going on in their lives. 

So I tried to flip this over in my brain, and be sure I was receptive to hearing others talk about their concerns or vent if they needed to.  I remember that at Thanksgiving time my cousin had told me that she was a little sad that it was the first Thanksgiving her daughter wouldn’t be there since she was going to her new in-laws.  I did notice that she said it, but was careful to commiserate with her.  A few weeks later, she apologized to me, saying she realized afterward that she was talking about missing her daughter because of going to the in-laws, when I would be missing Erik forever.  So I assured her that it was okay.  That just because I had an extreme situation on my hands, it didn’t mean that other people couldn’t be sad or worried about things in their lives.

Thinking back on this and how it has progressed for me, I think this may be a very specific thing that reinforces the “feeling different from others” that we talk about.  We are different and those around us can’t change their lives or fix ours.  They may sense or feel uncomfortable to talk to us about the normal everyday things people vent about or are upset about.  Initially, we may be truly unable to find the emotional energy to listen to other people or, sad to say, to care about their problems.  But I think the sooner we can find a balance to that, and welcome others to confide in us again, the better we will feel and the more connected we will feel to others. 

On the other hand, there are things I have had a much harder time “getting back” in my journey here.  For example, my favorite thing to do before Erik died was to buy gifts for others.  I thought it was fun, and it made me feel good.  People knew I like to do this, and often said “You buy the best presents.”.  The first year after Erik died, I figured that I just didn’t feel festive and it was normal to think of gift-giving as a less important event.

However, the second year came and went, and I still really could not find enthusiasm in my heart or emotional energy to look for gifts or be creative in my giving ventures.  I felt really bad about it, and thought I was becoming a selfish person, which made me very unhappy with myself.  But, feelings we know are just feelings, and it is hard to change them.  I of course found ways to compensate for my “bad attitude” regarding presents, and I am assuming people weren’t running around saying, “boy, that Mary Ann doesn’t even care about presents anymore!”  I tried to get suggestions, or use gift certificates.  If I had to buy a baby gift, I would buy books in the book store so I didn’t have to go into the baby department of a store.

Now, as I am heading toward the end of my third year, I suddenly realized I am really thinking about gifts I might buy for others, and trying to make them thoughtful and meaningful.  And while looking for gifts, I seem to be more interested in ornaments and decorations as well.  We are making different plans for Christmas than the usual. 

This has just sort of snuck up on me.  It may be one of the things that really was simply helped by the passing of time.  Whatever the reason, I am glad it has.  It feels as if a little part of my old self has returned when I wasn’t looking, and it feels so good.

So apparently I have not morphed into an old lady Grinch, and have days of gift-giving left in me.  Such a little thing, but at Christmas more than ever, it’s the little things that count, right?