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To heal from the pain, we need to do our own grieving. Otherwise we end up being an emotional wound that opens up with any sort of trigger. Death is a part of nature and those who die are in a much better place than we can imagine. It doesn't mean that we won't hurt, but we can have peace with a loved one's death.
Just be thankful that no matter how difficult things are as you see from some of these comments, there's someone always worst off than you. If you stress is financial my advice is take it a day at a time, measure, plan and you always somehow come out of the hole. If it's emotional, time heals most wounds. If it's physical, I'll save a prayer for you and like I said before, there's someone always worst off than you...My worst experience was waking up a month later from a coma and realizing that I couldn't move all of my extremities...later I came to realize that I still have a lot more than most people I know.. Smile, life's beautiful no matter your situation. Best wishes
I would have to say losing both my parents five weeks apart from each other.
I don't really want to say too much about the circumstances surrounding their deaths but it was very devastating at the time.
My parents were 'young'. In their 60's.
It's something I never thought I would survive and be able to cope with.
As far as coping with it? I'm not really sure.
I gave the eulogies at both my parents memorials. That helped me tremendously. During that trying time, I never thought I could get up in front of hundreds of people and talk about my parents without crying.
But somehow I was very composed and this may sound 'weird' to some...but I could really 'feel' the presence of my parents. And I know that helped.
I had many people come up to me afterwards and some were speechless as far as what I talked about... the poem I read and my composure.
All they could do was hug me.
I know my faith played a big part in that too.
My dad was very stoic. I take after my dad.
We were a small family. Two brothers and me. And neither brother really shows emotion or likes to share things too much.
But now seven years later I've shown my older brother that it's OK to talk about it. So I slowly bring up past memories and "remember when we did this or that?!" as a family.
It's nice to look back on things.
I also reprinted hundreds of photos and made albums for my bothers and my mothers, brothers and sisters. That was very cathartic for me.
To this day, I am fortunate enough to live very close to the cemetery.
and I visit them everyday.
I had leukeamia for almost 10 years, it kept going away and coming back. I ended up just "ignoring" it and pretending everything was fine ( my coping mechanism ), as it was just too much to cope with , the treatment, pain, depression and fatigue and I learnt to just live with it. It seemed to work and I have now been cleared for over 9 years. It was an incredibly hard experience but I was lucky to have a loving and supportive partner . Sadly I was given a lot of steroids for it and I am now quite a lot heavier than I used to be and this has proved impossible to shift. As a result of the illness my immune system is really rubbish now and I catch everything going ( I used to be strong as a horse, never sick in my life until then ) and now suffer from CFS ( also known as ME, probably as a result of my body taking so much punishment). I do feel I wasted some of the best years of my life but I am still here and I feel like a survivor.
Also someone I loved very dearly was blown up in the October 23 1983 suicide bomb in Lebanon ( Beyrouth), that was the single most terrible thing to happen to me and it took me years to get over it. I still think about him, but I have been able to move on. Strangely enough I never felt hatred towards the perpetrator, just great sadness that anyone would feel so desperate and full of rage they would resort to such horrific violence. It still makes me weep to this day. The sheer pointlessness of it.
I just grew "numb" to when someone dies...because so many dear people in my life died.
3 close friends commited suicide, several others were in accidents, or died in the war in Iraq....and my brother has to go next month to Kabul.
I still hurt, still cry....and I never "get or gotten over it".....
The most difficult thing I ever did was decide to divorce my husband and then follow through. I was under so much stress that I actually got a mild case of shingles, which is very unusual in younger people (I was 26 years old, I think). After I recovered, I began taking care of myself better; I went for walks at work during my breaks, that kind of thing. Also, when my ex would call me up and scream abuse at me (he accused me of cheating on him, for example), I learned that I could simply hang up and the world wouldn't end.
The worst for me was waking up in bed and finding my husband was not breathing as he lay next to me. Yes, he had an illness which I knew would shorten his life but surely he wouldn't die not at age 53.. It hasn't been easy to move on. I handled the grief with a wonderful group online.
I had really never lived alone for very long so it took some time to find the real me. I filled my house with cats and dogs for company. Moved to a new state/city after leaving my job due to early retirement offered by my company that I felt was more arm twisting to get us to leave.
While I would like to meet someone special, I have learned to like my life
Should've finished my coffee before I stumbled onto this one.... Does anyone have a happy pill I can have? I almost said borrow... Eh.
Anyways... I've had my share of horrible things. I try to remember that no matter how bad I think I have had it... someone has always had it worse. From some of your stories I can see that. I'm sorry for all the pain some of you have had to face and are still facing. I have managed my pain with the love & support of friends & family. Without them, I am nothing. I remember someone saying that "time heals all wounds"... and it sure the hell DOESN'T.... "time doesn't heal all wounds"... that much I know. You can only take it a day @ a time. I'll spare you all from my stories as they still hurt to address. Learning to heal... learning to forgive yourself for something that is out of your control... is the 1st step. You will never forget... you may never stop crying when you think about it.... but know... the pain you feel - may not be the same pain we feel (or vise--versa)... but you are not alone.
Last edited by *Holly*; 07-23-2007 at 10:17 AM..
Reason: Cause I could ;)
Location: Life here is not an Apollo Mission. Everyone calm down.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by sunnyhelena
I think this is a good question. My coping skills for stress are not as good as they could be. Some say it is a product of how you were brought up, etc. Anyway I was just wondering if anyone has any positive stories as to how they have coped with a tragedy or crisis. Thanks.
I'm 45 and what I've learned from tragedy or crisis is that you really don't appreciate anything until you are challenged in life.
I sort of floated along, quite dumb and dull, actually, until I had to have my colon removed 15 years ago and was physically and emotionally abused by the recovery room nurse. Up until then, I'd never been victimized or hurt, physically or emotionally. My first reaction after my recovery was anger and I filed a complaint with the state attorney general, which didn't result to anything other than a personal apology from the nurse. She was able to keep her job, despite having a track record for this sort of abuse. I was the first one to formally complain though and hoped that she was scared straight after that.
My gratitude came in that I was thankful that I was not her, that I had compassion and sympathy for people/strangers...the blessing being that I was gifted the inability to hurt others as she did. I got over it.
The second tragedy was when I found out my husband had cheated on me and my parents sided with him since I had gained weight in the 13 year marriage. I worked more than he did, longer hours, was paid more than he was, did EVERYTHING around the house, and with our child because he was too busy with his very expensive hobbies, one being a race car that we lost money on, year after year. My entire marriage I never spent one cent on myself and often joke that I wore the same bra the entire time. I left with one fork. After six years, I am still the only person who survived this experience happy, as I knew I would. Living well is the best revenge. We divorced and how I survived that ordeal is with:
Immense HUMOR. My best friend of over 20 years, shortly after my divorce, found out her husband (my ex-husband's good friend) was gay. We literally survive on the humor of our experiences. We laugh constantly about them. No regrets...absolutely none. The gratitude that I feel about no longer being married to him is so joyous. I consider the marriage to be a chapter of learning and an exercise in intuition that would have been dormant had I not been challenged.
I know that humor is not a good defense in other tragedies. Like the loss of a child. My belief in this situation is that, this life is the true challenge and that our loved ones are living a beautiful, joyous, and peaceful existence elsewhere. And that we are all reunited eventually. How sad they would be if they knew (and I believe they do know) that we are suffering loss by not living.
We are only challenged with what we can survive. Resilience is strengthened with each tragedy and we must laugh at the face of any force that tries to bring us down to their level.
In 1976 I was a young mother (34) with 5 children (2-12) at home. My husband was 36 and a Zone Supervisor for the US Navy Recruiting Command; we were stationed in Montana. On Christmas Eve (Our 16th anniversary was on Christmas Day) he returned home from a circuit trip, had supper and headed for his usual trip to the bathroom. For some time (perhaps 5 minutes) I kept hearing a thumping noise and finally walked by the bathroom. Immediately, I knew there was a problem when I tried to get the door open and could not. He had fallen forward and was wedged between the door and the toilet. His eyes were open, his voice was mute but with his foot he banged on the wall to get my attention. I ran for a neighbor paramedic who with help managed to remove the door within 5 minutes. Still alive as he left the house I followed them to the hospital and waited outside the ER while they tried to save my young, vital husband. But...alas, his undiagnosed defective heart failed and his loving spirit slipped away that cold Christmas Eve night. In a few moments, our young family life had changed never to be the same again. In that tragedy is a lesson to be learned - never take anything for granted especially the gift of life. Live each day as if it is your last.
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