No one knows for sure how we'll respond to unwelcome change until it happens. And once it does, our biggest challenge is to deal with the reality of our circumstances. If we can't change the situation, then we must figure out how to cope with it.
Holiday Challenge As anyone who has ever been through heartache will agree, holiday time presents a special challenge. Its inherent expectations of happiness, merriment, and celebration can seem frankly impossible, leading some to wish they could skip the holidays altogether. I realized when my son died that life had irrevocably changed, and I had to invent different ways of moving through each day in order to shape my new reality. If every aspect of life was going to be different now, I could actually choose how I wanted to observe special days. Plan Ahead The most important thing I can tell you is to plan ahead. Don't wait until the day arrives to think about how you want to spend it. Take some time imagining different options (this is where you can get creative), as adapting cherished traditions can be very meaningful. Discuss your thoughts with family members and enlist their support. Remember you don't have to decide how to spend every holiday from now on; you're just figuring out how to observe this day this year. Realistic Expectations Have realistic expectations at this time of year. As you decide on your holiday schedule, keep an eye on your energy level to avoid overwhelm. Are you really up for having the whole gang over and doing all the cooking? Do you feel like attending office parties and other get-togethers? How might you modify your usual holiday routine? Decide what's doable for you and stick to it. It's okay to say no to one-too-many invitations. Enlist Support Identify a support person who will check in with you periodically throughout the day or evening. When you're going through a difficult time, you might need to take a break, go for a walk, or even go lie down for a little while. Tell them you need to hear your loved one's name. Your support person and you can also develop a signal that says, "Get me out of here," if you do become exhausted or over-stressed. Help Others One of the best ways to soothe the pain of loss during the holidays is to help others. Volunteer some time to any organization that fits your values and feels healing. Some people serve meals to the homeless; others bring toys to hospital pediatric playrooms. Make sure your volunteer work is realistic for you at that time. If you're preparing a holiday meal you might invite someone who doesn't have a place to go this year. Self-Care It's important to know your Self as you go through the holiday season. Choose ways of adapting and coping that make sense for you. Pay attention to sleep, nutrition, exercise, solitude, and togetherness. Honor your own spirituality. However you choose to mark Thanksgiving tomorrow, I wish you a very meaningful observance.
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Everyone has trouble tolerating meaningless suffering. Yet it can be really hard to imagine a reason for loss, tragedy, or struggle. Here is a list of questions that can help illuminate the meaning in difficult situations.
These thought prompts are not original; they come from various web sites, books, and conversations over the years. If you keep a journal, you might write your responses there. Or just contemplate whatever comes up when you read each question. Your thoughts may change and develop over time, so don't hesitate to occasionally revisit the list. 1. Is there meaning in this loss? During my most agonizingly bereft moments, I just couldn't accept that David was gone in a split second for no apparent reason. I eventually decided to create a meaning that worked for me. As individuals, we get to choose our own. 2. What lessons can be learned from this experience? Whenever something negative happens, I always ask myself what I can learn from it. Sometimes the answer is obvious and other times I have to make up something. But it always requires a certain amount of self-reflection that is ultimately beneficial. 3. What self discoveries am I making? This kind of inquiry can reveal so many things about ourselves: how we tend to function under adverse conditions, how we relate to others, or what effect this is having on mood, thoughts, energy, and behavior. It's important to notice the Self. 4. What personal qualities have been strengthened? Perhaps there's something in your make-up that has been quietly in the background until now...something that has responded to a call to action of sorts. Maybe it's tenacity, appreciation, gentleness, or a host of other possibilities. Look carefully. 5. What strengths can I identify that were not apparent before? Even though I would never choose such a loss, I do recognize now a certain resilience that I never would have thought possible. It was cultivated through trial and error, but it's now mine forever. What new strengths are you noticing? 6. What is becoming of the person I used to be? We all evolve over time, and sometimes life transitions hasten that evolution. Sometimes we have no choice but to change, and it's important to honor our past selves before we let them go. 7. Who am I now? This is a big question and not always easy to answer. Take your time. I had to add "bereaved mother" to my response, and at first it was my only focus. In time I could broaden my answer to include all my other aspects as well. 8. What was important to me before this loss compared to what is important now? Have certain longings and stressors faded into the background? Or are there people and things you took for granted that are now at the top of your list? Think about the difference in what's important to you now. 9. How has this experience impacted my values and/or spiritual beliefs? Most of us don't talk about these thoughts very often, but this may be the perfect time to consider them. Keep an open mind as you reflect on your views. Again, don't be surprised if this continues to evolve. 10. Do I see the world any differently now? Life experience certainly can change our outlook so it makes sense to contemplate how recent challenges may have altered our perception. It may be a subtle shift, a global transformation, or something in between. I hope these questions stimulate your thoughts. Please don't hesitate to stay in touch and let me know about your own quest for meaning. The following case study is a composite of many people I have known over many years. The name is a fictional one and any resemblance to any particular individual is unintended.
Suzanne couldn't figure out what was wrong. Despite the fact that she was about to marry the man she loved, she was having trouble feeling completely happy. She was pleased and felt positive about their upcoming wedding without hesitation, but just couldn't shake an undercurrent of sadness. She came to my office asking for help figuring out what was getting in the way and how she might overcome whatever it might be. In our first session, Suzanne told me about her fiancé and their relationship. They met 2 ½ years ago and had been dating exclusively ever since. They moved in together about 6 months ago as they began planning their future. The two shared the same values and enjoyed many activities together. As we explored the history and meaning of this relationship, no red flags came to light. "But doesn't this mean I don't really love him?" Suzanne worried. "Shouldn't I be super excited? Is there something wrong with me?" Whenever we find an apparent association between two things, we tend to think one caused the other. When Suzanne noticed her ongoing low-level sadness in spite of such a happy situation, she naturally began to assume the impending marriage or something about the relationship was causing her distress. In our next session we talked more about her history, as far back as she could remember. She described a happy childhood, enjoying an exceptionally close bond with her mother. Her two older sisters made her the baby of the family, which came with some perks as well as occasional teasing. When Suzanne was in elementary school, a classmate of hers was diagnosed with leukemia and died later that year. She remembered having a hard time understanding how a "kid" could die. Other seminal life events included her parents' divorce when she was in high school and then a few years later her oldest sister's death in a car accident. Recently she was told her company is downsizing and she will have to find another job. Through our work together, it became apparent that Suzanne had experienced multiple losses throughout her life, and they'd had more of an effect on her than she'd realized. "But other than losing my job, those other awful things happened so long ago and I've done my grieving. My parents' divorce doesn't seem so terrible now - they both live nearby and everyone gets along just fine. And even though I miss my sister, I feel her presence with me every day. Honestly, my life is really good now," she insisted. As we continued to explore her feelings and the meaning attached to them, Suzanne began to notice a default expectation of doom. "You know," she observed, "I think I tend to anticipate bad news. Not in any realistic way - just kind of a background sense." Our subsequent sessions helped Suzanne understand how this worked and then we explored ways of managing it. She learned her repeated experiences of loss had, in a way, trained her system to expect more; it had become normal for her. With that understanding, she began to open up other possibilities and allow today's delightful expectations to mingle with yesterday's tragic realities. Ultimately she was able to expand her mindfulness, encompassing moments of ongoing grief within genuine happiness and joy. Have you experienced something stressful and difficult (even traumatic) that may have altered the way you move through life? Here are some reminders I've learned along the way: 1. My past does not have to predict my future. 2. There are ways of honoring our memories without getting lost in them. 3. Happiness is what we feel when something positive happens; joy is our appreciation of and gratitude for our life blessings. 4. Excitement can come from happy circumstances; joy often brings a sense of peace. 5. We can choose to allow happiness in and to cultivate joy no matter what we've been through. "I'll never get over it."
"I'm not strong enough to handle this." "Life wasn't supposed to turn out this way." "I must have done something terrible to deserve this." Have you ever found yourself with thoughts like these? If so, you're not alone because they're common examples of limiting beliefs. And you don't have to accept them. Sometimes we develop these theories as a way of making sense of challenging circumstances; other limiting beliefs are rooted in childhood. Our brains crave order, so we come to conclusions about life or about ourselves even though there's usually a lot more to the story. Many of our limiting beliefs have to do with hopelessness - when what we want seems impossible, we don't even try. We feel justified in our conclusion because who in their right mind would keep trying to accomplish something that's not possible? Another common theme of limiting beliefs is helplessness - the sense that we don't have the knowledge, opportunity, or that there's just too much involved to achieve our goal. Other people might be able to do or have this, but it's just too big for me. And then there's uselessness - the feeling of "why bother?" Even if I do figure out how to cope with this particular challenge, another one is just around the corner. There's no permanent solution so it won't make a difference in the long run. Have you ever blamed someone or something else for your misery? If only they would change (or if only they'd behaved better) I wouldn't be this predicament. Sometimes it feels vindicating to believe that only circumstances beyond our control are causing our pain. And the flip side is blaming ourselves for everything. Feeling undeserving of a good outcome and a sense of worthlessness means we can't acknowledge or utilize our strengths - even though we all have them. Limiting beliefs keep us from accessing our innate resilience - that ability to bounce back from whatever life dishes out. And I truly believe we can all learn to be more resilient. It's like a default setting on a computer; you can change it but it requires certain steps. So here are a few ways of banishing limiting beliefs and changing our default settings. They're working for me, but I'm always interested in what's worked for you. 1. Don't believe everything you think. I know it seems like our thoughts should be reliably correct, but that's not always the case. I'm currently working on the thought that "there isn't enough time for me to do everything I want to do." Even though it's hard, I'm choosing not to believe that's actual fact. 2. Challenge the belief: Ask yourself, "Is that always true? Does it really make sense? Can I think of one example that's different?" Keep questioning your negative conclusions and look for other possibilities because things are usually more negotiable and more flexible than we think. 3. Stop defining yourself by the belief. I used to think I could never be a "business person" until I realized I'm actually running a small business. I had to expand my self-definition to include this realization. 4. Observe the feelings that come up as you begin to open up to new possibilities. Are any of them uncomfortable? Try not to judge these emotions; just notice them with gentleness and let them pass. 5. Try something different to break the pattern. I signed up for a business course for therapists! (And I'm actually enjoying it.) See if choosing an action opposite to your limiting belief can open up even more possibilities. There are certain dates we'll just never forget. Dates when everything changed; that mark a new reality; that seem to require some type of observance. 9/11 is one such date, forever seared in our American consciousness as the moment this generation lost its national innocence along with so many precious souls.
Of course there are personal anniversaries too. Some (like birthdays and wedding anniversaries) are celebrated, while others are more difficult to get through. I'm thinking of anniversaries of a loved one's death, a scary diagnosis, a difficult surgery with a long recuperation or uncertain outcome, or a heartbreaking separation. Anytime we sustain a life-altering loss, we tend to note the passage of time since that day and calendar our journey in its wake. As I approach the third anniversary of David's death on July 24th, I think about what happened that day and how much I miss him, and also about what I've learned since then. I offer the following tips in the hope that they might ease your burden and also inspire you to think of your own ideas. Eileen (not her real name) sat quietly sobbing across from me, holding a picture of her sister.
"She was just diagnosed with lung cancer and she never smoked a day in her life," Eileen said, explaining what brought her in to see me. "It doesn't make any sense and it's just so unfair! We're all scared and can't believe this is happening. I want to be supportive to her, her husband, and my niece and nephew, but I'm having trouble accepting the reality of all this." Acceptance. A common theme discussed in my office and considered in my life. Why is it so difficult to accept unwelcome change? And how can we possibly accept circumstances that feel unacceptable? The first step is to figure out what acceptance means to each of us. When my heart is screaming "NO!" and rejecting every aspect of a situation, what would it mean if I had to accept it? That I approve or agree with what's happened? That I'm fine with it? No, there are some things in life that I would never want in a million years and that I could never be fine with. Alas, they happen anyway. To me, acceptance means getting to the point where I acknowledge my reality without shock, denial, or resistance. It is what it is. It doesn't mean I like the situation nor does it suggest I don't care. And it certainly doesn't mean I don't continue to have strong feelings about it. Moving beyond shock is a normal process that obviously takes time. When my son died in the motorcycle accident, it was a long time before the news was old and simply a part of me. But even when someone is ill or you learn other distressing facts, there is still that moment when you realize your world is irrevocably altered. I've found that the same thought that is shocking in one moment seems much less intense once it's old news. I remember thinking I can't wait for this to be old news, when I don't feel intense shock. Moving beyond resistance requires some resolve. Let's face it: it makes sense to resist pain and tragedy. Who would welcome it? At the beginning, feeling resistant toward what happened actually demonstrates our reasonableness. The difficulty comes if we remain resistant to our circumstances and keep trying to hold onto some version of life as it used to be. Ongoing resistance can lead to denial. Moving beyond denial can be tricky because a certain amount of denial at the time of a crisis or tragedy is adaptive and protects us from an overload of pain. Denial becomes problematic when it continues and keeps us from ultimately dealing with our feelings. I remember those first feelings of unreality - that sense of things being surreal. It was impossible to wrap my mind around what happened. But eventually the truth of the situation took hold, and that's when I began to feel all my emotions. Here are a few tools that can help you work through shock, resistance, and denial on your way to acceptance: 1. Writing/journaling - keeping your own personal record of thoughts and feelings not only helps the healing process but also shows your progress over time. Make sure you stay in a judgment-free zone, approaching whatever comes out with curiosity and interest. 2. Talking with supportive friends and/or family - there will be times you'll want to be alone, but it's important not to isolate yourself. Stay connected to those you feel closest to and share your connection. 3. Learn as much as you can about the situation. This will help you cognitively understand the facts and eventually pave the way for a deeper acceptance. 4. Make room for your feelings - emotions will bubble up on their own so give them space to be expressed (even difficult ones). Try not to busy yourself doing so much that there's no room for just being. 5. Find appropriate distractions that work for you and then use them to take breaks from distress. Alternating between facing the pain and distraction from it helps ease the process of acceptance. 6. Get additional support when you need it. Remember that we are all capable of great resilience; I'm holding that vision for you. (Originally published in my newsletter 5/10/14)
No matter what your current situation might be, Mother's Day evokes strong feelings about our families. And with the holiday only hours away now, I'm thinking not only about my own family constellation, but others as well. As many of you know, my son David was killed in an accident in July of 2011. This will be my third Mother's Day without him. I miss him more than words can describe and I wish he were here. Each year I take out the Mother's Day cards he had given me in the last few years of his life (the "adult" cards - the ones where he wrote funny or beautiful notes to me before signing). I arrange them carefully along with my current cherished cards from my daughter and grandsons. If David's absence were the only thing I focused on, Mother's Day would be almost unbearable. But I'm so grateful to have my wonderful daughter and precious grandsons right here with me now! They continue to be the light of my life, and I feel true joy in their love and presence. Is it possible to feel both the sadness of loss and the joy of gratitude at the same exact time? Yes, absolutely. I will always miss David; that's just not going to change. My daughter misses her brother profoundly, and my grandsons miss their fun-loving uncle. Having loved ones who share this loss helps me feel less alone in my grief, and remembering him with them seems to solidify his ongoing presence in our lives. At the same time, I want to ensure that David's death has not overshadowed my life; that I'm not so focused on who's not here that I can't enjoy who is. I have arrived at a place in which I'm grieving my loss and celebrating my treasures at the same time. It feels right. I know others who are experiencing their first Mother's Day without their mother. (See my article "Celebrating Rose" here.) Even though she lived a long life, it's hard to face a national tribute to the person who has always been there, and is no longer. I'm sure they are also feeling sadness and joy at the same time - sorrow for her absence and joy that she lived a long, remarkable life as their mother. And I also know a young woman delighting in her first Mother's Day as a mom. Mixed in with all the happiness of new life might be (I imagine) some sorrow in missing previous generations of family who would have adored this eagerly awaited gift. There are so many variations on the theme of concurrent joy and sorrow; as humans we all have this capacity and I'm sure you have your own stories. Find a supportive person or group and tell them; grab your journal and write them. It's evidence of our humanity. "You will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly-that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp." ~ Anne Lamott Have you lost a loved one after a long illness? Or are you grieving the sudden death of someone close to you?
Both of these situations are extremely painful, and even though some would debate which is "better," I'm here to validate the distinct experience of both journeys. Dealing with Teminal Illness My father, mother, sister, and best friend since childhood all died after lengthy battles against incurable illnesses. I was caregiver for some; other times my role was visitor, observer, and witness. Watching a loved one in pain is excruciating. No, it's not the same physical pain they're feeling, but an instinctive agony that permeates the mind and, in certain ways, the body. I didn't want to be there but couldn't stay away. I wished desperately that I (or anyone) could do something to lift them from their suffering. It became difficult to eat, sleep, and manage my daily tasks. And I prayed for release...theirs and mine. I remember asking repeatedly for their freedom from suffering, all the while knowing that it would mean permanent loss for me. Part of me yearned to get back to life as it had been, and part of me didn't want to face a world without my loved ones. I wanted them to be free from pain and at peace, and I also wanted their ongoing presence in my life. I struggled with guilt for the relief that came with death, and I also would have given anything for their complete recovery. Such opposite emotions and thoughts; all are compelling at the same time. The Shock of Sudden Tragedy My son and my nephew both died in young adulthood (but many years apart) after tragic accidents. While it's true that we were all spared the agony of long term illness-related misery, the shock that came with the news of their deaths was equally debilitating. There's an unbelievable quality to news of death like this; you just can't quite absorb it. I remember asking the same questions over and over, as if somehow the answers would change or it would start to make sense. Time slowed and I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach and had the wind knocked out of me. Everything felt surreal and distant in those early days of shock, which delayed the beginning of grieving in an important and necessary way. In each instance, we were told my dear nephew and my beloved son knew no suffering. They were killed instantly, and for that I felt grateful. But oh the pain and guilt around what wasn't said! If only I had known our time was limited, I would have said and done things so differently! And wondering about their last moments - last thoughts; last feelings - created waves of anguish. Different Journeys; Same Destination Losing a loved one through lengthy illness or sudden death is traumatic no matter how you look at it. Terminal illness allows for some amount of pre-grieving or mental preparation, even though that in no way makes the loss any easier. Sudden death gets it all over with in an instant, even though we're left longing for farewell. Anticipating a loss does not protect us from the shock of finality, and sudden death does not erase our yearning for closure. Having experienced both kinds of loss, here is what I know for sure: We are never ready to say goodbye to people we love. Sometimes facing the anguish of loss can make you feel like you're losing your mind. It can be hard to concentrate or do everyday tasks, and you may feel heartbroken.
It's okay to have a respite from misery. I am not advocating living in denial. It is vitally important to acknowledge our reality and to face our feelings. What I know from experience is that taking occasional breaks from unrelenting pain can actually help us tolerate it better over time. Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) offers several strategies for distracting ourselves from distress, using the acronym DISTRACT. I have adapted these skills for those of us who are grieving. Try as many as you can and note which ones work for you (these are very individual so remember there's no right or wrong). Regular practice will make your favorites become second nature and available whenever you need them.
Distracting ourselves from the discomfort of grief is meant to be temporary respite. Use the strategies that work for you, always returning to the undeniable reality of what is. And ask for help when you need it. On with the boots...off with the boots...parking lots filled with mountains of snow but too few parking spaces! The bitter cold polar vortex forces me to re-think my errand list and the weekly snowstorms have rendered my car a salty mess.
With Chicagoland trying to cope with the worst winter in recent memory, many of us are just plain sick and tired of the whole ordeal. Are you feeling a bit more anxious about making a turn because you can't really see if there's oncoming traffic beyond the giant snow mounds? And have you collected new winter layers to protect you from frostbite: long underwear, "smart" wool socks, and hand-warmers? If you've felt crabbier than usual this winter, you're not alone! The way we typically go about our lives has been altered due to forces beyond our control, and that can put anyone on edge. Even the groundhog wasn't optimistic, so it seems it could be a while before all the snow melts and we can get back to business as usual. Although I know you can probably think of far more serious problems that have to be tolerated (and I certainly can too), coping with our weather provides a useful template for navigating difficult situations over which we have no control. The following tips and skills are adapted from Dialectical Behavior Therapy, or DBT. 1. Accept there's nothing you can do. This doesn't mean you approve of the situation; you just acknowledge its reality. (In our example, I acknowledge I have no control over the weather and no one would expect me to.) 2. Focus on your sensations and feelings; not what you think about them or how you want them to change. (I'm annoyed, frustrated, and feeling confined.) 3. Accept your sensations and feelings. Notice them and be willing to have them, even if they're uncomfortable. (Okay, I identify the feelings of annoyance, frustration, and a sense of being confined. They're in there all right and they make sense to me under the circumstances.) 4. Work with those sensations and feelings using appropriate relaxation, distraction, and soothing strategies. (Try various approaches and see what works for you. More on this next month.) 5. Think about the big picture and the world around you. What will inspire hope and make you more positive? What's really important to you? (Winter can't last forever and I'm heartened to notice longer daylight hours. Soon it will be March and the temperatures are sure to warm up. I don't think I'd like to live in an area with no seasonal change at all.) 6. Ask for tolerance and acceptance from whatever force you believe in. It could be the Universe, your sense of the Divine, Mother Nature, or any power that's greater than you. (Please help me tolerate these last few weeks of our crazy winter! I'm ready for serenity, grace, and patience.) 7. Remember that nothing is forever and all experiences change over time. Focus on this moment, knowing that the next moment will be slightly different. (I accept the fact that I'm fed up with this winter, and I know it won't last forever. Even as I write this, time is moving me forward. I am open to each new moment.) In every life there are things we don't like that we can't change. Practicing acceptance (again, this doesn't mean approval) can help us feel better. |
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