jakorte's blog

Here is where a new story starts. If it’s frightening to you imagine how frightening it was for me. Even more so now that things are a bit more under control. Bottom line is I am past the worst. I’m not about to belittle the strength it is taking me to share. It’s strength I didn’t have, and only have now in short bursts, easily depleted. I’m not saying I don’t want help, I just don’t need badgering. I’m pretty sure my current guardian angel was a badger in a previous life. At least now I want to talk. I want to, but still can’t. So, I’ll continue writing.

Grief Therapy: Round one:
First assignment: tell people….
So, I comply, in a safe, removed way. I tell people I’m not likely to see anytime soon, or if I will, it will be in a short, controlled setting with no time or privacy for intimate conversation. In a spurt of long dormant strength, I boldly confess to people I haven’t seen for a long time, some I haven’t seen for years, and probably won’t see for at least a few more.

Stated shortly, addressed simply:
“Well, five years and 20 days late... I began grief counseling today. I don't think this is going to be fun, at all. But, if I want happy meds my MD requires the talking stuff, too. My assignment is to tell people, so I’m telling you. Not sure if you should be honored or burdened, but thanks for letting me share.”
A few rapid responses fly in. I keep the notes and passages knowing I will re-read them later.

Responses:
“No way. I thought all this time it was something else. Congrats on a good move in a very positive direction! What you went thru sucked! You go girl!”

“No, not fun, but probably necessary and, in the end, will be extremely important for recovery. Best wishes and hugs. The crying will suck but acceptance is on the other side of it.”

“That feels like an honor to me. I'm glad that you are finally going. 5 years might seem a little off, but it has to be in your own time. We love you.”

“I am very proud of you that you started grief therapy today. Congratulations. It will really help you. I don't know if you remember, I started practicing Buddhism after my Dad’s car accident. I chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. It helps me though life’s roller coasters.”

“Stay strong. Good move on starting therapy and taking charge of your life again. Love and miss you! Very proud of you.”

“How was your first session?
- At the end of my long list of ridiculous events this past year and recent years past, the therapist looked at me and said, "You legitimately have a lot to be upset about. And you're clearly showing signs of depression." I cried pretty hard throughout the hour and left there with my usual tell-tale lovely tear-burnt cheeks, tomato afterglow nose and red rimmed eyes worthy of Scrooge. -
… and your sense of humor I see! I hope you are going to give yourself a gift and keep going.”

Despite the positive outreach support of my underminingly chosen out-of-reach-ers, it was the unspoken words that bothered me, caused me pain; the absence of acknowledgments, nothing returned. After years of pushing away and burrowing in, I have successfully established a secure hermitage. My behavior semi-predictable and tiresome: I didn’t show when I was needed. I didn’t answer the phone or email, didn’t respond to letters or cards. I couldn’t care more than a few moments. I was too busy trying to stay my ground in the game of life.