The Faintest of Rainbows

Today, I saw the faintest of rainbows. Barely visible in a sky that so mirrored how I am feeling most days now.

A bit of blue.
A bit of gray.
A bit cloudy.
A bit sunny.
A bit drizzly.

And when you have that mix, you sometimes get the faintest of rainbows. Like a sign from somewhere that hey, it's OK. Go with the flow. Allow yourself to feel. Allow the sadness, the happiness, the anxiety. They all have a place within you now. They can co-exist.

Bittersweet is what life has become. For every moment of happiness, there is that brief dart of pain, that bit of "bitter" that has now become a part of most moments.

It makes you experience some things more intensely. Like watching Eoghan growing up, his little personality developing, making his own way in his little world and even fighting his little battles.
Sometimes, when I pick him up, I stand there for a while just watching him, waiting for him to notice me. Oh, how I would love to bring home two boys from the creche every day.

I still do not understand why that has been denied to us. I probably never will. And some days, feeling happy makes me worry that it means we are moving on, somehow ignoring the pain his passing is causing. Yet, I do like those moments that happen almost out of the blue; when you suddenly just feel happy; not ecstatic but just really happy and content. Like the other night when we were after a lovely evening out and concert. Or Tuesday when I was traveling home with Eoghan in the car and he and I had a little conversation.

They also make me a little superstitious though...being scared that if we dare to dream and live a little too carefree again, that we'll jinx it all.

I am finding that lately, all this makes me do odd things and react strangely in certain situations.

When my last surviving grandmother passed away earlier this month and I was contemplating traveling to the funeral, I could not shake this sense of deja-vu. 3 years ago almost to the day, my other grandmother passed away and that time, we took Patrick to Germany for the funeral. A few short months later he was dead himself. So I am finding myself in a bit of predicament.

I hate not going.
I cannot bear the thought of going by myself.
I would not want us all to go together because it feels too much like 3 years ago.

If we went, would this mean something will happen to Eoghan, too? Of course not! But try telling that to my head; a head that is worried that maybe, just maybe it might.

Having not been able to leave Eoghan for a night since he was born, I think this would be too big a step. So I sat with it for a while. So much so, that my husband asked me 3 days later what my parents were on about on Facebook about my grandmother. I hadn't actually told him! Well, I did not want to on the day because a few days prior he had lost a friend of his suddenly also. I mean...how much bad news can you deal with?!

After much pondering, I now know what I'll do on the day of her funeral and I am happy enough with my decision.

I am taking todays faintest rainbow as a sign that it is a good one.

"And I will love you longer, than the Great Wall of China".
(Jack L, Great Wall of China)

The Grief that Won't End - Complicated Grief

It is commonly accepted not only that there are several stages of grief but also that one does not work through them in a linear fashion but can hop from one to another in all sorts of directions.

The general consensus is however, that eventually, with time, the initial acute grief in its various shapes gives way to something that is more manageable to live with. It no longer is all-consuming, debilitating. You never stop missing the person you lost of course but you learn to live with missing them in a healthier way....If that makes any sense.

So then there you go...stumbling through the fog of your own grief, going around in circles, morphing from one shade of you to a different one every other month, coping, managing, missing, laughing, crying, going crazy, longing to resume normal life, being afraid to forget....Forever waiting for this grieving thing to run its course and to find the old you again.

Only it never happens for you and you do not understand why. You wonder what is wrong with you. You shrug the feeling off and carry on regardless...ploughing ahead trying to be super-human. And with time, when things should get better, you grow ashamed and scared of admitting that, actually, things have not changed very much at all. The world moves on, your world moves on and a large part of you gets left behind.

Then you feel guilty for still being stuck in that place. You are afraid of appearing to be dwelling on it and not letting go. You are scared that you are systematically failing your partner, other children, family and friends. Surely, your addled mind is reasoning, they must grow tired of this.

So you continue to try and cover it up, to seek normality by throwing yourself into work and stuff that needs doing...ignoring your body's plea to just stop.
You chastise yourself that after all, others have difficulties in their lives also...so why can you not seem to manage to function? You start avoiding people, social gatherings...Only able to deal with a few people at a time.

Then you look into the mirror and while the person looking back at you appears to look the same, you do not recognise her at all. And you question whether the world would not even be better off without you.

---

It is like the grief that won't end. It is exhausting. After running on near empty for too long, your batteries are totally flat. Finally you realise you must take time out and assess just why after all this time are you still feeling like you are in the middle of those first weeks (though you tried hard to ignore that fact). What is keeping you there?

It is quite hard to come to that conclusion because somehow it feels you failed. You tried and tried but you just failed. What's wrong with you?

So for the longest time I have struggled to understand what is happening to me. Tried hard to just get through it...blinkers on and straight ahead. Be grateful for what I have. Felt like a failure for not being better.

Then I stumbled across this article on something actually called "Complicated Grief". So, it would appear, that deep down I am shallow after all and happy to buy into "labeling". ^^ Finally something I could identify with!

For most people, the initial acute grief transforms into something more manageable to live with, in time.

"It’s a transformation from acute grief to what we call integrated grief,” Shear explained. “The person stops dominating your mind and rests peacefully in your heart.”

Complicated grief occurs when something hinders the natural progression of grief.

Ticking most of the boxes here, me. Yay?!

So what is hindering the natural progression of my grief? Well, I think I have a few ideas.

1. Having been away when it happened.
2. Expecting Eoghan so soon after probably made me put off dealing with everything. I do recall thinking that I really could not lose the plot altogether as I had the baby to think about too and I did not want it to be affected.
3. Dealing with a new baby and tot so soon after.

Don't get me wrong...points 2 and 3 are absolute blessings but as a result, I think I may have buried it all and when it kept bubbling up over the last year or so, it felt wrong...its timing felt all wrong.

I think the more time passes the less accepting one is of ones own grief....You simply should not be struggling so much after that length of time...should you?

Perhaps that is just me.

And let's be honest, more often than not, it is far more convenient to keep your true emotions hidden than taking on the battle of facing them.

In reality, Patrick's death, to me, feels as unreal as it did the day it happened. I cannot get my head around it. While the last two and a half years have not all been as gray as I am painting them to be here, it has been an enormous struggle lately. The writing had been on the wall for the last few months and I think things have finally caught up with me.

That big crash/bang/wallop I was waiting for in the spring of 2011 is finally here. Recognising that and knowing it needs to be dealt with, is a first step.

But it was one heck of a journey to get here. Full of confusion, missing, self-doubt (or hate), not understanding what's going on inside my head or my heart. Verbalising all that is often not something I do well. How can you put into words what you do not understand yourself? Or rather, it takes time to untangle that mess of thoughts and feelings in my head to get something halfways coherent out there.

I'm far from being out of the woods but I think I have reached a clearing of sorts. And that clearing is knowing now what I think my issue is: being stuck in a grieving that won't end.

http://socialwork.columbia.edu/news-events/new-treatment-program-grief-won-t-end-0


Miss you lots, Sproggy-pops. xxx