The utter madness of grief

 On Tuesday the Book Club I belong to happened to be meeting to discuss Dervla’s Murphy’s book ‘Full Tilt’, in which she records her journey on a bicycle from Europe to India, in 1963. When I started to read it, I looked on Google to see if she was still alive and it turned out she was 90 years of age. 

Well, I was lying in the bath on Tuesday morning and her death was announced on the news. What a coincidence, I thought! The trouble was the ensuing internal dialogue that then ran savagely through my mind: “What are the chances of her dying on the day we are discussing her book?! It just proves coincidences like this do happen. Of course, they do! But then, that makes a mockery of all those potential signs, all those white feathers (of which I have been seeing a lot recently!) and robins (ditto!!) that people talk about. They are all just chance or coincidence. Of course they are, you know that, why are you getting so upset? It means B isn’t there - where???!!! – he can’t connect with me. But he’s dead, he doesn’t. But it means he really isn’t there, I have no connection with him. I have lost him a second time...” I know that this sounds completely and utterly mad - I think it’s mad, a very weird train of thought - but what I felt was a profound sense of loss, and let’s just say the amount of water in the bath increased. I haven’t cried this much in weeks. That sense of connection, those continuing bonds (https://whatsyourgrief.com/grief-concept-care-continuing-bonds/), that I had somehow developed over the last weeks were suddenly torn away from me (I know it doesn’t make sense!), and all those existential questions about love, life after death, and the purpose of life started to fly around within me. Suffice it to say, it completely threw me, even though I know it sounds / is completely nuts… Perhaps, my grief had been building up inside of me without me noticing and just needed a reason to be let out of its bottle, who knows? Having thought I was doing reasonably well in the last few weeks, though, this seems to have pushed me back, somewhat. 

Just to say, my head has always told me that wanting signs and receiving signs is nonsensical, but I think, secretly, my heart was still hoping for something, something to prove that our relationship wasn’t completely dead (B would think I was completely barmy if he was here!). I know that our marriage is still a part of me and my life, and I will always carry B within me but, in reality, our relationship is dead, it is in the past. The reality is, all those coincidences or synchronicities may serve as reminders of what we were together but that’s all they are. My head knows this, so why is my heart having such trouble with it? Of course, the answer is obvious, a huge part of my life is missing and I am still trying to get used to it. I guess that, when grief is so monumental, the temptation is to grasp at anything that gives a litter glimmer of comfort or hope. Although life / my grief is getting easier, it is still hard, and perhaps harder than I had previously thought!! One big difference to last year, though, was that I was able to go to Book Club and participate in it even though all these thoughts and feelings were running around inside. I only cried at home. On some levels this is good, I don’t feel so vulnerable and I’m at least able to function, and yet I wonder whether I am not being honest with myself, and others, by hiding my feelings away. It’s not really about pretending that I’m okay, it’s just it’s my normal default position to hide my feelings if I possibly can, but how healthy is that? This blog does help to get them out and process them!

What I hadn’t realised was that I had still been searching for B. After he died, I searched for several weeks looking for physical reminders of him, anything he might have left me as proof of all we had had together. Why? I know what we had, but I think they acted as a type of anchor, something to create some stability in rocky times. I thought I had stopped, but what I didn’t realise was that I had still been searching for him on an intangible, ethereal level (reassuringly, from what I see in some grief groups, this isn’t uncommon). My broken heart hijacked my logic… I will probably still take comfort from any coincidences and synchronicities that bring about a reminder of B, but that’s all they can be. As I type this, though, I so desperately want to be wrong (!!), and I wonder why. What would a sign mean? I guess, it’s because it would confirm that there is still some sort of connection between us. Again, rather mad – he’s dead. I know it’s not logical, it’s bonkers, but I’ve decided that’s the madness of grief! I also find it difficult, as it goes against who I think I am and my belief system. How can I want to believe something that I don’t believe? I don’t believe B is flying around in some spirit world. I understand that lots of bereaved people feel their loved one’s presence, but I can’t say I do. What I do / did have is a sense of connection with B (which is really hard to explain, but it’s like a sense of warmth when I think of him, that ‘blanket of our love’) and I think that’s what suddenly disappeared in the bath on Tuesday. What I believe in is love, and that’s what God is to me; God is love. And of course, that’s the connection I have with B. We are united in love, or if you like, God. Just to say, though, if someone said to me “B is in a better place” or anything like “God calls the best ones home” I would probably want to punch them in the face! These are not comforting phrases and would make me feel as though my pain is being negated… (Clearly, my anger hasn’t dissipated yet, either!)

I’m not sure if this is in a similar or different vein, but I have to admit that I find the phrase ‘heavenly birthdays’ strange (I’ve seen it quite a lot on Facebook). To me the person is dead, they can no longer rack up another year to their life. They will forever be the age that they died at. That doesn’t mean that B’s birthday has disappeared, it will always be in May, and I will continue to mark it, but I don’t believe he is celebrating his birthday in some other place. Whatever my thoughts about heaven, it isn’t like that. With apologies if you do find it helpful, no judgement, it just doesn’t work for me. 

What did occur to me the other day, though, was that B died in what was the present. This is so obvious I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before now. It is I who am left behind to celebrate / cope with the past - feeling happy, sad, or overwhelmed depending on the day. This helped me realise, though, that I shouldn’t pay heed to those regrets and ruminations that steal into my mind (it still happens!). B didn’t have any when he died, so neither should I. There is no point dredging up small and unhelpful incidents, things that I can’t change (I do know this, but it hasn’t prevented it happening!) and that B would not have worried about or would have forgotten about long ago. This is such a simple and straightforward concept but I have found it really helpful, so I’m hoping it makes a difference.

I have been wondering, recently, whether I still feel married. I think the honest answer is ‘no, I don’t think I do’. This has slowly changed, as I definitely did during my first year without B. If you asked me whether I felt single, though, the answer would also be ‘no’. I’m a widow, there is a difference, at least to me. I’m not ready to remove my rings! This is another area where my brain has been playing tricks with me recently, though. In due course, I would, if possible, like to find another partner, someone to move through the next stage of my life with. The strange (mad?) thing is, I can think about this and make up pleasant little fantasies, which are completely separate to my grief. Logically, I know it is too early to even be thinking about this. Clearly, as Tuesday demonstrates, I have more grieving to do (not that I doubted it), but it’s fascinating how my brain can compartmentalise these things, that I can have this premature hope for my future whilst still grieving! It seems as though my head and my heart are still having a tug-of-war!

Just to say, it is now Saturday and I am beginning to feel that I am reaching some equilibrium again. It has taken a long time. It has been a week where there have been several positives and more than one negative, but the negatives seem to have been more accentuated and I found myself trying to drag myself out of a mire. Sometimes I find this easier to do on my own, but at other times it is definitely helpful to be able to off-load with a friend. So, thank you to those who have listened, accepted me as I am, and offered encouragement. Thank you to those who so cheered me up yesterday evening. It all helps and I do appreciate it.