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| Scene from Pixar's UP |
It surprised and shocked me how sad I was. The last 18 months, going through a separation and divorce, culminated in a way that left me fairly intact, independent and thankful. So why was I sad? I did not want to get remarried. I started a great job and though my finances took a severe beating, I was left with the ability to re-title and retain the home my children and I currently lived in. I certainly wouldn't be leading a lavish lifestyle, but my needs were taken care of. Given the circumstances, I felt blessed.
As the theme of Up reverberated in my head, ("Things We Did" would end up playing in my head, nonstop, for at least three days....), the only word I could come up with was: Grief. It didn't seem to make sense though. I processed all my grief at my DivorceCare sessions. I worked through all my challenges and stayed strong. Initially, I figured it was still nerves at having to still appear before a judge the next day to formalize things.
But after the half-hour court appearance drew to a close, the sadness didn't dissipate. As I shared a time of camraderie with my lawyer and my witness (and my BFF) afterward, I was internally nostalgic. It was almost like when Catcher in the Rye's Holden Caulfield starting missing the bouncer, Maurice, who beat him up, when Holden left private school. Instead of feeling better after the trial, the grief was still there, its tentacles wrapping around my heart.
The next morning, I realized what I didn't have time to process before. I was so busy taking care of the externals, making sure the kids were OK, giving them time to transition and grieve, finding a job, holding down the fort, grappling with new responsibilities and keeping strong that I never really processed my emotions for all the junk I went through. I wasn't able to "go there" because I needed to stay focused and take care of business.
Now it seemed, my subconscious was telling me that now that the externals are fixed, it's time to take care of the inside. And it would not let go. I was a walking basket case, crying in sudden fits and unable to contain myself. I was so grief-stricken and unable to concentrate that I met with my boss that morning, explained that I was in a grieving process now that my divorce was finalized and that I needed some personal time (half-days off work for the next two days, until the weekend), so I could have time to process. I knew "everything was going to be OK", but I needed time and space to grieve. I needed to be able to cry my eyes out, without anybody whispering platitudes or feeling sorry for me.
A typical project manager, I scheduled my grief. I worked half days for the rest of the week, so I could accomplish a few tasks, then go off and fall apart in private. I didn't trust myself to take whole days off, lest I fall into an abyss and not be able to recover. It seemed kind of nutty, but it was really clear how much I needed that space. By allowing myself to acknowledge that it's going to be emotionally hard for a while and that it's OK to feel that way, it brought me out of total despair.
Isn't it ironic? The only way to get rid of the grief is to process it head on. Instead of stoically soldiering on with a "stiff upper lip" pretending it doesn't hurt, the strongest, wisest thing to do when in despair is to acknowledge it and allow yourself to experience it. I call this good grief.
The weekend after my emotional breakdown, I just spent a lot of time listening to music, talking to myself and God and embracing the pain of the things I lost and maybe never had. I spent a lot of time wandering through a small town across the bridge so I wouldn't have to run into folks I knew and "explain things". I didn't have to pretend everything was OK and I spent a lot of time alone so I could process all the junk in my heart. I also avoided making any big decisions, well except the refinancing of my house, which prompted the visit to the small tourist town in the first place.
I must be clear that this is not a pity party. This is not a time to wallow in hopelessness and cry out "Why me?" It's a temporary time to express your pain and allow yourself to feel sad about something and to be OK with "this hurts!".
The grief will still be there, in drips and drabs. But, at least having some space clears your mind to focus on recovery and other things when you are good and ready. It is really important to re-engage with life slowly. Check in with a friend or have an accountability partner that you feel comfortable talking to. Avoid making drastic changes if you can avoid it. Reduce any extra activities and hold off on taking on more commitments.
The only grief that is insurmountable is the grief we refuse to acknowledge. Getting in touch with the pain helps it start to go away.
"... provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair."
- Isaiah 61:3a (NIV)
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