Grief and Covid

https://brenebrown.com/podcast/david-kessler-and-brene-on-grief-and-finding-meaning/

https://www.psychotherapynetworker.org/magazine/article/2438/love-grief

Grief Share

My mom shared this resource with me, which is "A Season of Grief" daily e-mails and I just wanted to make note of it and pass it along to anyone who might find this helpful currently or in the future.

I'm on day 4, which discusses how grief lasts longer than expected. So much of the grief materials I have consumed the past 7 months have acknowledged how grief is not something that we get over, but also how this is an expectation from those around us; primarily those who have never experienced a deep loss. 

Today's e-mail even addresses how people within the church can act as if you lack faith if you're still grieving after some arbitrary amount of time. I get it. I wrestle with the question of do I truly believe the good news and in the reality of Heaven if my heart is still so broken over the earthly tragedy of Jerrod's death. I love the response:

"Knowing the Lord and His comfort does not take away the ache; instead, it supports you in the middle of the ache. Until I get home to heaven, there’s going to be an ache that won’t quit. The grieving process for me is not so much a matter of getting rid of the pain, but not being controlled by the pain.”

We read in the Psalms that David grew weary with the process of grief and cried out to the Lord. Then he left the timing in God’s hands.

“Be merciful to me, LORD, for I am faint; O LORD, heal me, for my bones are in agony. My soul is in anguish. How long, O LORD, how long? Turn, O LORD, and deliver me; save me because of your unfailing love” (Psalm 6:2-4).

“I am weary with my sighing; Every night I make my bed swim, I dissolve my couch with my tears. My eye has wasted away with grief” (Psalm 6:6-7 NASB)."

God is close to the brokenhearted. It is an honest experience to both grieve and feel this pain and trust in the Lord for my healing and the hope of my future.

I will rescue you?

You are not hidden

There's never been a moment

You were forgotten

You are not hopeless 

Though you have been broken 

Your innocence stolen 

I hear you whisper underneath your breath

I hear your SOS, your SOS

I will send out an army to find you

In the middle of the darkest night

It's true, I will rescue you

There is no distance

That cannot be covered

Over and over

You're not defenseless 

I'll be your shelter 

I'll be your armor 

I hear you whisper underneath your breath

I hear your SOS, your SOS

I will send out an army to find you

In the middle of the darkest night

It's true, I will rescue you

I will never stop marching to reach you 

In the middle of the hardest fight 

It's true, I will rescue you

I cannot listen to this song without bursting into tears. I have no idea what was going on in Jerrod's mind the night he took his life, but I know it was full of darkness or we wouldn't be grieving his death. My heart breaks and I feel despair for him as I imagine the pain he must've been suffering in those final moments. I wish we could have rescued you, brother. I wish we knew you needed rescuing. It's maybe the hardest part of losing you, knowing you were in so much pain and you were so alone. I know it was your choice. You could have invited us in. You could have let us try to help. Damn your stubborn independence. Even when you were at the height of your drug addiction, you insisted you could fight it on your own... what prideful stupidity. It's so hard to be so angry at you and miss you so much. 

What about you, God... did Jerrod cry out to you? Why couldn't you have rescued him? Was not intervening in his suicide and welcoming him to heaven your rescuing? Why couldn't he have found peace here? There are so many questions, so may cries of my heart with a complete lack of understanding in all of this. It's hard to be so angry with you and so completely dependent upon you. I know you're not afraid of my anger, that you welcome it. And even when I cannot reach out to you, I know you're reaching out to me; that you're still loving me and taking of care of me; that these lyrics are just as much for me.

just the beginning of the wrestling

It took all of an hour to feel utterly overwhelmed this morning and worrying about how we are going to survive once Bret goes back to work. Avery was being fussy and unhappy even being held and Jackson decided to burst into his own waterworks for some reason.  It's exhausting even when I'm not alone and I hit a state of mental panic imagining trying to deal with this on my own.  So Bret grabbed the kids for a double stroller ride to calm everyone down and to give me some peace and quiet.  I reheated my coffee and grabbed the new Truth Unchanging devotional that a friend sent me and started to read.

As with most times of stress these days, one situation turns into anguish over my brother. I'm simply reading the intro about God being with me as I read and desiring to speak to me and immediately my heart cries out why couldn't you have been with my brother?!  Why couldn't you have saved him; spoken truth to him instead of whatever awful lies he believed and agreed with to the point of ending his own life?! My head does not always go to this place.  I can rationalize my way out of being upset with God, but I know for the sake of my healing and for the sake of my relationship with Him, I have to be honest when those ugly thoughts surface. Ultimately I feel let down by God. I know our pain is His pain, but I question how he has let this (suicide) happen to my (immediate) family twice; 3 times including my cousin. I'll never understand his ways and why he prevents some suffering and allows others.

Then my mind launches into an entirely different train of thought... people say to treat mental illness the same as a physical disease.  I generally agree with this statement, as it speaks to the importance of caring for our mental health and combating the stigma around seeking treatment, but a death as a result of mental illness (i.e. suicide) is not the same as someone dying from an illness, such as cancer. In neither circumstance are we hoping for death to be the way someone achieves peace, but I would challenge that it is more devastating - or maybe just devastating in a different way - when someone chooses to end their own life as opposed to having their life ended by an illness.  With a physical illness there feels like so much more that is not within a person's control to bring about health than with someone whose battle is mental. Even as I type this, I'm challenged that maybe that's not really even true.

I've experienced anxiety and depression, but never to the point of feeling suicidal.  There are certainly genetic factors that impact my predisposition to anxiety and depression, but I'm also keenly aware of how my lifestyle and daily choices impact my mood and well being. I also know that it's a lot of work to address those issues and they're not so severe that I struggle to get out of bed in the morning nor have thoughts of wanting to end it all.  It's a battle to try to allow God control and to bring joy into my life when I'm feeling low; how much harder would it be for me to lean into his good news if I were feeling utterly hopeless?  I feel like I'm rambling, but mainly jumped on here to acknowledge that while I ultimately believe God is good and that he can somehow bring redemption, there's still wrestling to be done as I grieve.  I don't think I'll ever have all the answers, but I'm praying that as I wrestle and cry out to God when my head and heart are in chaotic grief, that one day I will predominantly feel peace.