I don't know if it's grief, depression, or a mix of both, but I am on a constant daily emotional roller coaster.
Sometimes I can't get up the motivation to leave my house, sometimes I can't stand to be here. I sat in my driveway and cried for 20 min last week after a grocery shopping trip.....I didn't want to get out of the car and actually come in. Other times I've went days without leaving even though there were things that had to be done.
I miss my brother and sometimes I'd give anything to talk to him and tell him how much I love him, other times I'd just like to yell and scream at him for this selfish thing that he's done.
Sometimes I hate being alone and I just need to talk to somebody, friends, family....anybody who will listen and take my mind off things. Other times I dont' answer my phone because I just want to be alone.
Sometimes I want to be with my children to love and cherish every minute. Other times I want to just hop in the car and drive away from all of the fighting and fussing.
Sometimes I just want to sleep all. the. time. ......other times......wait. no. I pretty much just want to sleep all the time. I'm so constantly exhausted. I feel like I'm walking around in a fog with bricks strapped to my feet.
I hate any time that I'm open to thinking: like when I'm driving, cleaning, lying in bed at night. I wish I could just have normal thoughts and daydreams like I used to. Instead those times are now filled with constant thoughts about my brother and the horrible act he comitted.
At times I feel so much guilt it's almost physically crushing. Guilt at not telling my brother how much I loved him when I talked to him two days before his death. Guilt at not driving up to Ogden to see him more often. Guilt at not realizing just how sad he really was. Guilt at being an impatient and tense mom. Guilt at not playing or laughing with my boys. Guilt at not being very affectionate with Mike. Guilt at my messy house that I don't have the energy to clean. Guilt at serving unhealthy meals like frozen pizza and fast food. Guilt at not getting out and running. Guilt at not having the faith to be at peace.
It seems like whenever you hear anybody talk in church about losing a loved one all they talk about it the peace that they feel from knowing the Plan of Salvation and the comfort that it brings them. Because I'm not there yet I've been hard on myself. Maybe I really don't have the faith that other members of the church do. Maybe I'm not worthy of the comfort that comes from the Holy Ghost.
I've started reading some books on grief and specifically on being a "suicide survivor" and I'm learning that what I'm going through is actually very very normal. The ups and downs, the fatigue, the inability to concentrate. The feelings of grief and depression have stages and everyone works through them at their own pace. I'm wondering why it's such a taboo subject in our society (and in our church) to be honest about struggling with a loved ones death. Even from my earlier post I stated that I wouldn't constantly write about my struggles with Wayne's death because I didn't want anyone to know that it's not been an easy road for me. It makes me seem weak. It makes me feel like I don't have the faith to be "healed". I'm learning that healing takes time.......even for people who have faith and strong religious beliefs. Just because you believe in a merciful Heavenly Father and you believe that you will see your loved one again, it doesn't mean that the pain of losing them and missing them will magically go away.
I've never lost someone this close to me in any other way, but more than one book stated that when you lose a loved one to suicide your grieving process is more prolonged and intense because the nature of the death was so unnatural. There's a lot of extra baggage that comes with losing someone that way. So many unanswered questions. Several people have asked me "why?". I wish I knew. My family wishes they knew. We dont' know "why". We probably never really will. We knew of his financial struggles and his history of depression, but we don't know what finally made him crack. It's hard to say what is more sad to me, losing him, or knowing how utterly hopeless he must have been feeling to take such a drastic step. I want to know "why". I want to know how long he had been planning this. Was it a last minute decision fueled by intense feelings of frustration (he and his girlfriend had been fighting all night)? Or did he know, when I talked to him on that Wed and he agreed to come down on Saturday.....did he know he wouldn't be fulfilling that promise? Did he think of any of us in the end? Or was he so wrapped up in his pain that he was only thinking of himself? Did he know how much we all loved him? Did he know how much I loved him? I need to accept that fact that so many of my unanswered questions will never be answered. This is going to be a hard struggle for me.
There are so many questions that I dont know how to answer. What do I say when people ask me how many brothers and sisters I have? A few people have asked me how he died. That's a hard one to answer. I usually just say he committed suicide, but I had one insensitive individual who wanted to know "how".....does it really matter? This isn't a tabloid story or a sensational news cast. This is someone I love. I hate telling people how he died because I know a lot of assumptions are made about someone who does something like this......in all honesty prior to this I'm probably just as guilty of making some unfair judgements. I dont' know what to say when people ask me how I"m doing. Do I just tell them "okay"? I think that's what they want to hear so that's what I say. I'm greateful to have a couple of close friends that don't make me pretend that I'm "okay". They'll listen to me endlessly talk about everything. They check up on me. I appreciate that more than words can express. I don't know what to say when people tell me they couldn't "handle" losing a sibling or a loved one. It's not like I had a choice. If you had asked me a few weeks ago if I could "handle" something like this I would have honestly told you that losing someone close to me was probably my #1 fear. I don't know if it was a premonition of things to come, but a week before it happened I was driving in my car and I started thinking about how I would deal with it if my husband/ children/ parents/ or one of my siblings were to get in a fatal car accident. The thought was so abhorrent to me that tears pricked my eyes and I sent up a feverant prayer for my Heavenly Father to keep my loved ones protected and safe. It's not something I ever thought I could "handle".
I read that depression is a natural part of grief and unless it's severe (aka: you're making yourself sick, having destructive behavior, or thinking thoughts of suicide) it's best to just let time run it's course. I'd love to go to couseling, but our mental health insurance is very inadequate.
My posts, like my thoughts, about Wayne probably go around in never ending circles. I wish I could be publishing inspiring posts about how much I've grown from this experience and how it has strengthened my relationship with my Savior. I'm just not there yet. I'm trying though. I pray. I pray all the time. I've read religious material dealing with my current situation. I've had a priesthood blessing. I'm tring to make arrangments to go to the temple (my babysitting has fallen through twice). I'm trying to get outside of myself and serve others. Now I guess I just need time. I may not have the faith to have immediate comfort and peace, but at least my fledging faith is enough to believe that comfort and peace will come and I will be eventually be able to look back and see that this experience has made me stronger.
