I Feel That No One Cares

A list member writes:
I hope to share my story here. I see many others have shared their stories. I feel that many of my family and friends have deserted me. It's hard to believe there is anyone who cares.

Grief alone is so much for our hearts and mind and body to handle. Complicated grief, that is, when there is more than one loss to deal with or issues that must also be dealt with simultaneously (like anger, unresolved fights, anxiety, health or financial issues, depression, etc) can make the grief even that much harder to carry by ourselves.

It does help to tell your story over and over again. It helps with the processing of the grief. It helps us understand our grief. It also helps us know that we are not alone.

Grief and sorrow and depression are not a natural state for humans. They want to laugh and play and relax and enjoy. They want to smile and have hope and hear encouraging things. Most people would prefer color to a black and gray world. Most people would prefer some sunshine to endless cloudy rainy days.

The worst grief there is, is the grief that WE are experiencing. No one else will feel and experience OUR loss the same way we do. Our worlds become black and gray and cloudy and rainy. Our worlds become talk of the events of our loss, the days before, memories of our loved ones, the guilt we are experiencing, the things we are going to miss, the sadness in our hearts. Our stories are not something any human being, unless also experiencing loss and grief or being paid to counsel those in mourning, are going to naturally be attracted to. A few close friends and family members will do their best to listen and console us at first, but their tolerance level of the grief is limited to their involvement with the loss itself or their relationship with us. They will recover more quickly and return to the colorful, more joyful, sunny world of normal living.

Yes, it feels like we are deserted by many of our family and friends. In truth, we also desert many of them during this time by isolating ourselves and "bridging off" from them. We don't go places with them. We don't ask about their recent promotion or congratulate them on the discovery of their pregnancy. We don't really hear them pour out their feelings about their difficulties with their families, their marriages, or their jobs. We don't really hear them express their worries and concerns. Frequently as not, we don't make phone calls to them or answer their calls.

Also, grief changes our "being" - it changes our outlook on life (good or bad), our energy level, our interests (at least for a while). We may also find, as time goes by, that we may not have as much in common with old friends and family members as we did before.

When I was married, a large percent of the population of my "friends" were married couples with families. A great deal of the activities I was involved with and enjoyed were centered around things married people with families would do. Now it is really different to get together with married women friends and chat about planning anniversary surprises or second honeymoons.Even chit chat about family meal planning is rather irrelevant to me. I work very long hours so have little time for cooking right now and only cook for one - me. The activities we enjoyed together were often planned around twosomes (card games for instance). I've also feel that some couples felt extremely disloyal to either me or my ex-spouse by continuing on with either of us. And then there is the two other underlying problems with being suddenly single - I am a possible threat to the couple's stability (I am a single woman, lonely, and possibly "on the prowl") and also a general threat of divorce (if it can happen to their marriage, it could happen to ours .). I don't think they consciously think those things; I am aware those fears exist in people. If it's in their face, they see it and may have to realize it is a possibility. They are reminded that NO marriage is forever - it will END in divorce or death. No one likes to think of that.

Much the same, but even stronger, is the instinct to avoid thinking on possible losses. Before we lost someone, we might hear of a loss and grieve a bit for that person and/or feel sorry for the survivors. But we would immerse ourselves in our regular daily living; we would not dwell on it. We might read an article in the paper and think, what a tragedy, but we could put that paper down and get busy with something else.

Grief and sorrow are not natural choices of daily living.When people are confronted by those in grief, mortality issues are "put in their faces". IF it could happen to her or him, perhaps it could happen to me. When they hear someone has lost a parent, they realize the age of their own parents and are suddenly presented with thoughts about losing their own parents. People have to think about their own mortality and that is very traumatic for many people. If they hear about a child-loss, it is extremely frightening to them. I remember watching The Titanic when it came out and coming to the scene just after the ship had gone down and all of the bodies were floating about- old men, young men, old women, young women, children, and infants. The scene cast an extremely terrifying emotional response in me that lasted for days. We had even briefly "met" some of those characters in the movie and now they were gone. No one saved them. And the movie was based on a true story. I knew I would never watch The Titanic again. It was too much for me emotionally. (Of course, now, in my current state I certainly won't watch any movies of that emotional content!)

I think we are avoided, to some degree, because our emotional despair is not a state that people can naturally exist in. We avoid burns and car accidents and knife cuts and falls as best we can. We also avoid grief. We may find, as time goes by, because of our new insights and new interests, that we have the need to develop new friends who share some of those insights and interests.

When I was a stay-at-home mother with small children, I was attracted to and attractive to the friendships of other young stay-at-home moms with small children. That changed over the years. Of course, a few friendships have evolved with me and survived all the changes in me. This latest challenge, that of dealing with intense grief, has certainly challenged even those friendships - it's something they cannot understand because they haven't experienced it.

I am most sorry for your loss and pain.I hope you will find this a good place to tell your story, even over and over again from different angles, when you feel ready to share. Don't try telling the whole story all at once if that is too uncomfortable. We'll still be here when you are ready to share more. Don't ever feel you need to share things that you don't want to share! Please feel free to share anything YOU want to.

Offering you a new friendship on your journey,
With love and hugs and prayers,
Sandi