Loss and Grief

My friend died. It still feels surreal. In February, before I moved out of Oregon, I had my hair done by her and she seemed fine. I say seemed because of course the cancer was already there, eating away at her health. No one knew. But in eight months she went from fine to dead. That's how fast things can change. And nothing could be done.

I think the feeling of powerlessness is a big part of the difficulty. It's like when our daughter Jeanna died. There was no indication, no predictor of what was happening. It just happened, and in all the looking back, trying to see where we could have done something different, we couldn't realistically find anything. You can always find something that you can see in hindsight, but if we all had that ability how many things would be different.

That's the whole point, so much of life is out of our control, but we don't truly feel it until something like a loss like this occurs. We go along feeling like we have power, like we have some say in what's going to happen to us, but time happens, unforeseen occurrences materialize.

And when these things befall us, we're paralyzed. Sometimes with fear, but usually with something more. We're paralyzed by our own inadequacies, and suddenly all our confidence evaporates. All our decisions are questioned, all our options are reanalyzed. Our failures are magnified, our strengths shrink.

If you believe in God, as I do, you may turn to Him for reassurance. Because if you're out there feeling lost, the first thing you want is a compass to help point you in the right direction. You want to feel like you're not alone, that someone does have control. And that the time and unforeseen occurrences can be coped with and survived.

I don't think God controlled Glenda's or Jeanna's death. I think both of them were due to our human frailties and imperfections. But I do think God has the power to help us cope with the loss without spinning out of control. And I believe with my whole heart that both of them, along with many other millions of dead, have a promise of a better future where we won't suffer these shocking losses and the pain that follows.

So speaking of the pain that follows, I lost two days because of my grief. Literally. Today is Friday, and I thought it was Wednesday. I've taken this loss very hard. And part of it is what I wrote above, and part of it is my personal ability to deal with and process grief because of my illness. I don't know how to explain it, except how Erik explained it to me last night.

What he said, which made perfect sense from him and hopefully I'll pass it on clearly, is that it's like having a weak immune system. You may not be sick all the time, but you're more likely to catch anything that comes along, and get it worse than other people, because your immune system is already compromised. My brain is already compromised because I don't have enough of something and too much of something else in my receptors (we'll pause here so you can get all the brain jokes out). So I'm more sensitive to stressors that already are causing anxiety to the normal population.

Anyway, it sounded good when he was explaining it. And the one thing he said that really hit home to me is to start accepting myself today as normal. The New Normal. Today I'm not the high-powered executive type I used to be, I'm not the A++ student I was, I'm not a lot of things I used to be. And I can fight against it and be mentally shaking the bars that lock me into my illness, or I can accept that a major loss may cause me to lose two days; then I move on with some sense of control and normalcy. Either way, I'm powerless against my illness, it's going to affect me regardless of how I respond to it.

I have the sweetest daughters and cutest little boys in the world. I have a wonderful husband who takes such good care of me, to the point of choosing to marry me knowing that I have bipolar disorder and this is me forever. I have good friends who accept me for who I am, even when I don't accept myself. I have family that loves me after everything I put them through before I knew I had bipolar disorder and just seemed crazy and unpredictable.

Control is an illusion. Power is a concept that we hold as long as we are allowed to hold it, but it can be taken away at any time. Time is not our friend, it waits for no one, it bends for nothing. Our faith can give us hope and comfort, but at this time we live in enemy territory and every step could be the one that sets off a landmine. So kiss your children, hug your loved ones, make sure everyone around you knows how important they are to you. Because you don't know where you'll be eight months from now.