The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (commonly called the DSM) is somewhat the "last word" on mental disorders and temporary conditions; everything from grief to depression to schizophrenia is quantified and qualified for diagnostic purposes.
The DSM has a scale of the Severity of Psychosocial Stressors. Anyone want to guess where the death of a child rates? In the highest, most severe category, called "catastrophic." (http://stroke.ahajournals.org/cgi/content/full/28/6/1123 ) The other items in the category are "suicide of a spouse, devastating natural disaster, and enduring circumstances such as captivity as a hostage or in a concentration camp."
Wow, that's kind of heavy stuff. So is what we endure with this, however. So, we try and fit together our lives around the platitudes that we have heard since childhood.
One of the ones that I've always heard throughout my bouts with cancer and other things is the good old, "God doesn't give us more than we can bear." I actually think that there are times when people can't handle what God has given them for any of a number of reasons - people are locked in mental institutions, they commit suicide. It may be mental illness, it may be that they're overwhelmed, it may be that we can't process how to use the tools God has given us to deal. I don't know. All I know is that this phrase isn't really helpful.
I actually think that I find more comfort and truth in this one: "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger." It's a little harsh, but it is true. As much as we hate that this is where we are, this does strengthen us. We are more prepared, we are more road-weary. We have survived the worst. We have been devastated and will never be the same - but we learn how to go on.
I have a callous relative who keeps telling me I "have to move on." She says that I can't think about Maddie, that I will only depress the people around me if I continue to think about her all of the time. I firmly disagree with that. Every day that I don't lie in bed all day with the covers over my head, I'm moving on. Every day that I get up and think about tomorrow, I'm moving on. My only responsibility right now is to be real - to myself and to Maddie.
Physically - 6.5 Mentally - 7
Emotionally - 5 Spiritually - 7.5
Friday, September 11, 2009
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8 comments:
Well said Angie. I am starting to believe that is my montra these days, "what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger." We will never be the same person. I have told my friends that. I think differently and see things differently. The loss of a child really does change a person. *hugs*
You're so right, Jess, we won't ever be the same person. I hope to come through this as someone I truly like, you know?
I'm not sure if my friends or family realized I've changed but my husband can tell. I can, too. And, you know, that is one of the worst parts for me. I hate that I have changed but not as much as I hate WHY I have changed.
It kind of bothers me when friends remark on "how strong" I am and how they "don't know how I do it." I know they mean well but what do they expect me to do? Cry all day? If I'm not doing that do they think I'm fine? Because I'm not; not at all. I can function but I hardly consider that a measure of my sanity.
Sorry, I'm not sure how I got on this topic...
Seperately, I hope you are able to minimize contact with your insensitive relative, at least for now. I have found that the two types of people who are most difficult for me to be around are those who try to dictate when and how I think of Sarah and those who I have had to help grieve. The latter, thankfully, has taperd off but the former has not.
I hope you have a relaxng weekend!
I know EXACTLY what you mean. I had always assumed that being a mother would change me - I even planned on it. I hate that this is why I'm changed, that this is the reason.
You're right - I don't know what "okay" is anymore, but I'm not it. I'm trying to piece that together - I am also curious what "not strong" looks like.
Thank you so very much. She's my biological grandmother - luckily, I don't see her very often, and I can screen her calls. I know that sounds bad, but it helps to just limit the contact. I am one of 5 granddaughters - and every other one has gotten pregnant accidentally and unwantedly at least once. It's a lot to face, too.
You're wonderful, Rachel. I also hope you have a great weekend!
"Move on". What a dumb phrase. I wish people realized that you dont move on after a child dies. You learn how to be someone new, how to deal with the new world you are in, but you dont "move on".
Sending big hugs...
"Every day that I don't lie in bed all day with the covers over my head, I'm moving on. Every day that I get up and think about tomorrow, I'm moving on. My only responsibility right now is to be real - to myself and to Maddie."
Yes. yes. yes. Oh my gosh, yes. So well said. So wise. Please be kind to yourself and don't let anyone rush your grief. Because newsflash to them, its not going to go away. But you will get better at dealing with it, or at least dealing with people who think you should "move on."
I am so, so sorry for your loss.
This is so very kind of you - and you're right, this isn't ever going to go away. It isn't ever going to get "better" - all we can do is try and adjust ourselves. That isn't as easy as it sounds.
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