Doing it anyway...

Over the Easter weekend, I read Claudia Coenen’s book, ‘Shattered by Grief. Picking up the pieces to become WHOLE again’. It’s one of those books that I wish I had found earlier. So much of it resonated with me and, whilst I had already worked out a lot her advice for myself, there were some really helpful titbits in it. One of these, I think, explains what I couldn’t work out in my last blogpost, why I have felt more sanguine whilst being at home with covid. 

Coenen talks about the ‘”proceeding as if” method’. It’s about undertaking activities that take you out of your pain, as if you will enjoy them, even though it might feel like you don’t have the energy or emotional stamina to do them, and how doing this can become a “pathway towards living again”. I thought, “yes, I have been doing this - making myself do it anyway”: going to church Sunday by Sunday, going to an exhibition or out for a meal either with a friend or on my own, going for a walk, going to the cinema, etc., etc.; trying to carry on with my life now B is no longer in it; doing the things I used to enjoy. And it’s not that I don’t sometimes / often enjoy them, but it’s that they can be an effort now and can often feel stressful and sometimes counterfeit, as well. Why? Well, I guess it’s because I am no longer my ‘old self’. There is still this great hole inside of me (and the fact that others don’t seem to notice or acknowledge this, often makes it harder), so how can I possibly experience these things like I used to? And it’s not about choice, rather it’s just how it is. Life is different now. It’s not that these things aren’t good to do, it’s just (!) that at the moment there continues to be that shadow side, that tension, as they continue to serve as a reminder that B is not with me by my side and, however good or enjoyable they are, they are very different without him. Don’t get me wrong, it has got somewhat easier over the last year but, nevertheless, B is missing. Somehow, being at home is different. It’s the home B and I made together and, although he is not here, I am aware of ‘his presence’. His things are all around me (despite getting rid of so much!): the furniture that he brought to our marriage and furniture we bought together, and this applies to so many other things as well, pictures, books and ornaments, etc. It is a space that was ours. It’s where we lived together and where he chose to die. This doesn’t mean that I don’t miss him here, of course I do, but here I can just ‘be’, perhaps nearer to my old self and, consequently, to him. I can remember and enjoy the things we shared together, and smile; I can let out my sorrow and not worry what others think (I know this shouldn’t bother me, but it does!). I may be sad here, but being here isn’t a strain because it’s just part of me, just as his / our story is simply a part of me. Going out and doing things requires effort, it requires a different me, a ‘new’ me, and although it can be enjoyable it can also be a struggle. 

I am convinced that ‘proceeding as if’ has to be the right thing to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier. It requires determination, some days more than others. Most of the time, it would be easier to stay at home (I am an introvert, after all!), but as Coenen says “…even though it was a strain and a huge effort to go out and do something, I felt like I was taking important steps.” And that’s what I feel. So, my equanimity may not remain once I start going out and doing things again, but at least I have worked out why. I know, though, that if I want to grasp my future life, which I do, I have to ‘proceed as if’ I will enjoy and get used to doing these things without B, with all the effort and strain that entails. Slowly, though, I hope it will feel more normal, help me to re-build my life, and help me find the ‘new’ me.