Surviving Personal Loss: A Journey Through Grief

My Life In Excerpts:

My story is one of loss, personal grief that knows no boundaries, and the debilitating effects on our lives that can happen as a result. I have been orphaned twice, buried two sets of parents, my first husband, and my firstborn. Along the way, add the loss of siblings, friends, in-laws, and grandparents, and although I know others who have more experience with death, I've had my share, and it's never been easy.

Admittedly, the abandonment of my birth parents was very different. I never knew them, had no information at all, until I was a senior citizen, and they were both long dead, but that abandonment affected my entire life. The accidental death of my second set of parents at age six was so traumatic it took decades to overcome the PTSD, the dibilitating lack of self esteem, and the unwarranted guilt. The death of my first husband left me conflicted, confused, and angry. But the death of my firstborn almost drove me off a cliff emotionally.

This website, blog, vlog, and book site, is my latest effort to take that pain, loss, and sufferring and use it to help others. I'm not famous or wealthy, nor am I an expert by any means. But the more you read on this site, the more you will learn that I AM a survivor. I have learned how to get up when life knocks me down. I have learned how to survive when there is nowhere to turn for help, and nowhere to run. And I have learned how to live a victorious life, because I refuse to be a victim ever again.

My first experience with death that I can remember was my adoptive parents. (Short Version) I was six, and had no idea that I was adopted. My mother had been in a terrible mood, and was making me bring canning jars up from the basement as a punnishment. I set the jars, a few at a time, on the kitchen floor at the top of the stairs, and went back down for more. After several trips, the pile of jars was growing.

While downstairs filling my basket with more jars, my father came home and my mother began to scream at him in Italian, and hitting him over the head with a wet dishtowel. He told her to stop and pushed her away. She tripped on the jars, fell down the basement steps, broke her neck and died instantly. My father, in shock, sent me upstairs to call the police, and while I waited on the porch for them, he shot himself in the head.

I was taken back to the ophanage I came from, labeled as unadoptable, and spent years believing both those deaths were my fault. Decades of life, loss, therapy, and PTSD have led me on a journey to recovery. That recovery wasn't easy. It isn't easy to maintain either, but it's definitly worth the time and effort. I can honestly say that I am ok. I am healthier than I've ever been, and most of all, I AM LOVED, APPRECIATED, AND HAPPY!

The Depth of Grief

Death is part of the cycle of life. We are born, we grow old, we die. If it happens in that order, most people can deal with it. But what happens when the parent dies and you are still a child? It feels like abandonment. You feel like they left you on purpose, like you were't good enough, and you get angry. I mean really self destructive angry.

Losing a child in a miscarriage is hard, but it is such a common occurance, that most people can recover rather quickly. But what happens once that child is born, you have cared for him/her, invested you life into theirs, and it is snatched away in an instant? Your entire world stops revolving. You have no skills to process such a loss. You beat yourself up trying to figure out what you could have done to stop this from happening. You get incredibly angry, dibilitatingly depressed, floundering alone and rudderless, in a bottomless sea of denial, bargaining with God. Many people never find their way out of this place of misery, but I'm here to tell you that it is possible. But, it won't happen until you decide to get up, face the grief head on, and move on with your life.

There is no amount of comfort, support, or counseling, that will help until you are ready to get back to the business of living. I locked myself away for weeks without speaking, and could be surrounded by people who loved me, and feel completely isolated and alone. But the longer you allow yourself to wallow in the pain, grief, and self pity, the harder it is to get up. The self imposed isolation becomes a prison of grief, and the only way out is to give yourself permission to get back to living and be happy again.

Finding Support Is Critical

I can't emphasize this point enough. Find a support group, a church group, a grief counselor, or someone you can turn to for help. You can't do this alone. I met a woman wh had burried three husbands and 4 sons who was the happiest, funniest woman I have ever met. She taught me the path forward, and hopefully I can show you the way as well.

Coping Mechanisms

My best coping mechanism has been journeling. I make it a practise to write about what's going on in my life. What happened, how did it make me feel, and WHY. You will be surprised the things you learn about yourself.

I stay busy. I write, paint, do crafts, have started a vegetable garden, and now I'm blogging, and making videos.

Start making self fulfilling prophecies that work for you rather than against, such as declaring that today will be a good day as soon as your feet hit the floor. (There is an entire blogpost, a video, and a book about this one tool for recovery, on this site!)

Remind youself daily if necessary, that the person who died loved you and would not want you to be so miserably unhappy. The journey to healing is not easy. It takes work, time, and determination. But what is the alternative? Remaining miserable, angry, bitter, alone, and unhappy, isn't a future I want for myself. What about you? Are you ready to get up and move on with your life?

I am.

Bee