Stages (Amended Version)

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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After reviewing this post from the other night, I found myself questioning its validity. Therefore, I have amended it with further commentary at the end.

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I've had a hard time praying lately. Not because I've lost faith or turned away from God. I just haven't been able to find the words. That must be a nice break for God, because I usually talk His ear off. Anyway, despite my inability to verbalize what was on my mind, I opened up my prayer journal, laid it on my bed, and knelt beside it. "Here it is God. You already know what's in my heart without me saying a word, but here it is...everything I can't say." And I cried. A lot. Although completely unnecessary, I tried to tell God how I felt. I kept praying, "Lord, I feel...I feel...," but I couldn't complete the sentence. And then it hit me. I didn't feel anything. I was numb. I was empty. I was emotionally bankrupt. And today I still am. But I think that's OK.

I have never actually read the traditional and time-honored 'Seven Stages of Grief' and was only familiar with a few of them. So, tonight I decided to research them. They are as follows... (My personal commentary on each is in parentheses.

1. SHOCK & DENIAL

You will probably react to learning of the loss with numbed disbelief. You may deny the reality of the loss at some level, in order to avoid the pain. Shock provides emotional protection from being overwhelmed all at once. This may last for weeks.

(I totally agree with shock providing some emotional protection. I think that's why I don't remember much at the beginning. But shock and denial lasting 'for weeks'? Try a year and a half...at least).

2. PAIN & GUILT

As the shock wears off, it is replaced with the suffering of unbelievable pain. Although excruciating and almost unbearable, it is important that you experience the pain fully, and not hide it, avoid it or escape from it with alcohol or drugs. You may have guilty feelings or remorse over things you did or didn't do with your loved one. Life feels chaotic and scary during this phase.

('Experience the pain fully,' don't 'hide it, avoid it...' Really? I wasn't aware there was a way NOT to experience the pain fully or hide from it. If only I'd known! Perhaps I could have saved myself a few thousand tears. As far as the guilt over things undone and the chaos...well in my world, it was and is a haunting reality. For me, chaos is still a real challenge. I often have a war raging in my head and my mental faculties are...at times... severely impaired).

3. ANGER & BARGAINING

Frustration gives way to anger, and you may lash out and lay unwarranted blame for the death on someone else. Please try to control this, as permanent damage to your relationships may result. This is a time for the release of bottled up emotion. You may rail against fate, questioning "Why me?" You may also try to bargain in vain with God for a way out of your despair ("I promise I will never____again if you just bring her back).

(Hmmm...True on some levels. I never felt 'frustrated' but I certainly felt angry and I definitely did my fair share of screaming 'why me?',demanding God to give Brittany back to me and making all sorts of promises if He would. Sadly, I have days when I still do that, too. I also lashed out angrily at many of my family members because I was selfish with my pain. How dare they say they understand how I feel or claim to love and miss her as much as I do? She's MY little girl and no one else's. I'm sure they know I didn't really mean it that way...at least I hope so. My overwhelming pain and grief sometimes has a mouth of its own). 

4. DEPRESSION, REFLECTION, LONELINESS

Just when your friends may think you should be getting on with your life, a long period of sad reflection will likely overtake you. This is a normal stage of grief, so do not be "talked out of it" by well-meaning outsiders. Encouragement from others is not helpful to you during this stage of grieving. During this time, you finally realize the true magnitude of your loss, and it depresses you. You may isolate yourself on purpose, reflect on things you did with your lost one, and focus on memories of the past. You may sense feelings of emptiness or despair.

(For the most part, I believe this one is spot on. I get so upset when people tell me I 'should be getting on with me life...' I also agree that as time goes by, the 'magnitude' of Brittany's death becomes more real. I think this has to do with the issue I have with time and it going by much too quickly. 'Focusing on the past...feelings of emptiness or despair'? Absolutely. 'Isolate myself on purpose'? Frequently. And that, my friends, has been a daily struggle for over a year now. I'm not sure that will ever change).

5. THE UPWARD TURN

As you start to adjust to life without your loved one, your life becomes a little calmer and more organized. Your physical symptoms lessen, and your depression begins to lift slightly.

('Calmer'? Maybe a little, but 'organized'? Um, no. I still get so lost in my own thoughts that mid-sentence I'll forget what I was thinking or talking about in the first place. And the lessening of my 'physical symptoms'? That's been a source of conflict and concern in my family for quite awhile now. As time ticks by, people around me are concerned about my severe loss of weight and my inability or unwillingness to remedy the problem. Even my doctor is concerned. Some grieving parents may turn to drugs, alcohol or food. I just stopped eating altogether...or very little. As for my 'depression' beginning to lift 'slightly'? No...not in the least bit. It's still just as bad...if not worse on some days...than it was in the beginning.

6. RECONSTRUCTION & WORKING THROUGH

As you become more functional, your mind starts working again, and you will find yourself seeking realistic solutions to problems posed by life without your loved one. You will start to work on practical and financial problems and reconstructing yourself and your life without him or her.

(Not even close to this one! I believe I will defer back to Step 1).

7. ACCEPTANCE & HOPE

During this, the last of the seven stages in this grief model, you learn to accept and deal with the reality of your situation. Acceptance does not necessarily mean instant happiness. Given the pain and turmoil you have experienced, you can never return to the carefree, untroubled YOU that existed before this tragedy. But you will find a way forward.

(As much as I fight it, there are times when I have to accept the reality of what is. And this step is right when it speaks about the 'YOU' before the tragedy. I'll never be the "before" April again. And finding a way 'forward'? Well, I'm simply not there yet, but with God's help, I have hope that maybe someday I will be ready and strong enough).

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These are not steps that can be followed in a simple, structured manner. In fact, there's really no structure to them at all. It's not a recipe for healing. It isn't as simple as "Oh! I just made it through step one! Now on to step 2"...and so forth. They loop. They skip around. And, for me anyway, I may experience many steps in one day. It makes my head numb from all the emotional conflict and turmoil that's always raging inside me. Want to know what some "experts" say is the "normal" timeframe for getting through all 7 stages? Eight months! Seriously? Obviously these so-called "experts" have never walked in my shoes before or spent one agonizing second in my head!

Furthermore, who came up with these "stages" anyway? What about the stage when all you do is cry and throw up? Or the stage when you can't breathe, let alone get out of bed? The stage when you don't want to live anymore because the thought of not having your child in your life is too unbearable to take? The stage when you realize you've been robbed of ever seeing your child get married or have kids? The stage when the rest of your life may be crumbling around you but you're too consumed with brokenness, darkness and pain to notice? The stage when you don't care what else happens in your life because what could possibly be worse than the tragic, incomprehensible death of your child? The stage when you instinctively still pick up the phone to call or text but then realize there will be no response on the other end? I'd also like to know who decided that these so-called stages should be put in the sequence in which they are. Perhaps I should develop my own "stages of grief." Instead of putting them in some clinical, numerical sequence though, my model would be a circle...because circles never end...and maybe grief doesn't either. And when another parent is unwillingly and cruelly thrust into the circle, they can jump on wherever they are in their grief, because maybe...just maybe...for some parents, there is no stage one to begin with.

Today is a year and a half since my beautiful daughter, Brittany died. So where am I in the grieving process? I am where I am. It doesn't have to be categorized or defined. But to give you at least some idea, please read the following quote. No other clarification will be needed.

"I dropped a tear in the ocean today. The day you find it is the day I'll stop missing you." The Compassionate Friends Network

I love you Brittany Erin...forever and always <3