Internal Assessment.

Time to write a blog that I have not gotten to, but thought about for AGES...

Before Joel, I never really paid much attention to... well... I guess I would say the cultural attitudes regarding grief that surrounded me.  Of course... why would I?

But the last three years have really given me plenty o time to think about it.  And I have decided that, for the most part, we sort of suck at understanding grief.   OK, qualifier here.  When I write about "cultural attitudes" I am obviously making a blanket statement which CAN NOT possibly do justice to the variety of people, attitudes and ideas out there.  So no, I am not saying "everybody."  It's just a vague generality.

Still, my vague generality is that "people" are often very uncomfortable with grief...  I have almost felt at times that they see it as a sickness, like the flu.  And if it drags on longer than two weeks, you should see a doctor and get some medication for it, because it ain't right, good, or natural... it might KILL you, in fact.

Oh BOSH! 

Sorry, this has been pent up for too long...  I've just heard too many friends worrying about if they are "coping well" with grief and I'm completely baffled by it, because I think they are "coping" so well.  I have friends who have shared some of their pain, and then been asked if they are suicidal.  OK, once again, to qualify, yes, I know people can become chronically depressed, and yes, even suicidal.  But grieving is NOT the same as being suicidal...

And I get worried because I am sensing an extra pressure on these people who are grieving... the pressure of feeling bad about feeling sad.  Of worrying that other people are critical of their grief process  because they are worried  deep down these criticisers have a point...  People who are afraid to share their feelings because they might not be "healthy" or might be "worrying" to their close friends and family.  And I can't help feeling that THAT is unhealthy...

The following two paragraphs is something you should read at your own risk.  I am not writing this to make anyone feel badly.  The reason I am writing this is because I really want the grieving people who read this to feel supported, and everyone else to be able to help, and not hurt them.  This does not include making them feel bad, because if they feel badly, they will be less likely to reach out.  I just want to encourage the reaching out part, and discourage the part that might be quick to evaluate and criticise the grieving process.

I know too, that sometimes people worry about me.  They really wonder if I need more help, or maybe to take some medication.  And I try not to get too passionate about what I write here, because I'm afraid when I get carried away my language becomes extreme and I might hurt someones feelings.  So please understand that though I sound passionate, I am also attempting to be transparent, and maybe assure people that I am checking myself, and let them know why I feel that I am OK.

Still, I'm going to say this, and please don't be offended:  Really, you should not question or "worry" about how someone is coping with grief unless you are actually walking that road with them.  I mean, not just dropping in once a month.  I mean spending some real quality time listening or just hanging out like maybe more than once a week.  Seriously, if you are not in that category of closeness, then you really need to let it go and not wonder how they are managing.  And if you can not, if you really are that sincerely worried, then maybe you should take more than 10 minutes to offer advice like "see a doctor" or "think about medication" or "get out and exercise to help reduce your stress."  If the person is truly that important, and you really care that much, then get involved in their life (if they actually want you there) and spend some real time being a friend.  Or, at the very least, buy a book on grieving and read it, so that you have a basic understanding of what is healthy and normal, before jumping in with "conventional" wisdom.

Whew, rant over... I think...

On to bigger and better things.  I am now going to write out the ways I assess myself, the way I am making sure that my grief is not harming me.  Grief, in and of itself, is NOT harmful, unhealthy, or fatal.  It is how you deal with it that can become that way.

And I think it is so easy to confuse grief with depression, because they are so alike.  I am NOT against medication when people need it.  But it seems to me that grief and depression share some similarities, without being the same thing.  And maybe it is hard to separate them out.

Here is the way my grief is similar to depression.  It tires me out.  I need more sleep.  And I am OK with that.  First thing on my check list is sleep issues, and I think that I am OK, even though I am often tired out.  Can I get out of bed in the morning?  Yes.  Yes I can, and I am happy with that. 



Of course, if feeling tired all the time is interfering with your job, or if it is interfering with basic life functions, that is a different story.  I'm not saying people might not need help from a doctor in that case.

And crying.  A lot of crying.  Yes, this can be a sign of clinical depression.  Or it could be a sign that someone really close to you has died, and you might cry every day for a long time.  Which I do.  But tears are not harmful.  NO REALLY.  TEARS ARE NOT HARMFUL.  In fact, the month or two after Joel died was hard because I didn't really cry much.  I just walked around with a vacuum of aching nothingness.  I'd rather cry every day.  Oh yes.  I would.  And I feel much healthier about that.  I don't feel like I even started to deal with Joel's loss until the crying started.

So how do I know that I'm OK if I am tired a lot and I cry every day?  Well, I can still concentrate.  I can still sit and read a book and even learn some new info, though I admit my memory is not what it was.  Still, I have enough mental energy to listen and understand, to read and grasp things.  Good sign.

And I do not feel hopeless or helpless.  I actually feel pretty positive about the future.  I am able to look forward to things.  And I am able to enjoy things.  I enjoy reading, going for walks, going to a nice restaurant with my family, playing Sims, going out with friends.  I don't just do this activities.  I like doing them.

One thing that totally amazes me is that my weight has stayed the same through this whole thing.  A huge increase or decrease in weight can be sign of depression, or unhealthy stress levels.  (note the word can, because that is an important word)  Through this whole six months, my weight has basically stayed the same.  (not that I wouldn't have liked to lose about 10 pounds, I just decided that now was not the time).

I have not engaged in any reckless behavior.  I am not troubled by excessive negative thoughts.  And for the most part, I do not feel worthless.

Note, of course, that this also does not mean that if you have struggled with one or two of these things, that you are not coping well.  Negative thoughts might take over for a time.  For awhile it might be really hard to enjoy things...
The point of this list is more to see if there are any positives in how you are dealing with grief.  And the real question is, are any of these things harming you.  Reckless behavior is always harmful.  Feeling hopeless for too long might be harmful.  If you are thinking "I can't live this way much longer..." that might be a good sign you should get some help.

Oh, and by the way, I DO speak with a counselor.  That is the final check on my list.  Can I spend some time, most days, to talk with God?    I know if you do not believe in God, you might be stifling an urge to scoff.  OK.  But I have to say that most days I sit down with the best Counselor I have ever met.  He listens.  I am pretty sure that one reason I have not struggled with feeling hopeless or worthless, is because He gives me hope, and He gives me worth.  I'm not saying that to make you feel badly if you struggle with this.  Saying that is not meant as a reflection on anyone else's spiritual state.   

All I can say is that when I feel worthless, I remember that Christ gave His life for me.  I like to recall or reread Bible stories of Jesus, affirming the worth of the "woman at the well," the woman who had a blood disease, the woman caught in adultery  (yes, I love the stories about Jesus and women).  These things are my help.  Being in God's presences dissolves any feelings of hopelessness or worthlessness for me.

I put that last part in here because I don't want anyone to mistake how I am doing for personal strength.  It is not that.  I have people supporting me.  And I have found God to be the best of help in this journey.  I make it, because He is my strength.  And I am OK with that too.