Round 3

After losing your child, suffering is inevitable. I’m in a spot now that I wasn’t anticipating-that grief isn’t as simple as the gaping hole in my soul, but that years later the aftershocks are worse than the death itself. The secondary round of grief.

These are the events, the traumas, that shift people into the darkest parts of their psyche. These are the traumas that fill people with so much rage, they turn into abusers. These are the traumas that turn people to self-destruction out of guilt. These are the traumas that are part of the recipe for addiction, homelessness, and all of the dirty parts of society that we want to look away from.

When he died, it was like a giant storm came: at first, we just had to try to stay out of the rain, avoid the lightning, take cover! Then, I’m on cleanup crew addressing the secondary loses-the powers out, there’s no food, people get sick from the lack of resources.

And right now, I’m in the middle of that smoky, storm ravaged abyss, and I’m trying to figure out how to rebuild. My family is in absolute shambles. (As I finished typing that last sentence an explosive fight erupts dripping with residual grief). No one is OK. People are physically Ill. Employment has suffered. Housing has become unstable. Children have become resilient to chaos-the entire life I worked so hard to avoid has become my reality. And THAT is the realization and true understanding of grief-that control is an illusion. Everything you think you’ve earned, that you’ve worked for, that you love-is but a wisp.

I’m actually in the tertiary stage of grief. First, I handled the initial trauma impact of figuring out how the hell my heart was to resume beating after a piece was torn away. After I figured out how to physically and mentally stay alive (I’m not exaggerating, I had to literally relearn how to eat, sleep, and actually breathe differently), I had to adjust my worldview to one that doesn’t contain my son and how I still have a place in it. This is the most important thing I’ve done, because if you can’t look at the world differently, you will only see the loss and will spend fruitless effort to fill the hole. I’ve been able to let light shine out of that void. But in this tertiary stage, I’m in the middle of OTHER people’s grief. That’s lovely for me that I could heal my heart, but, as much as we try to pretend we are, we aren't an individualistic organism. Therefore, i’m just as impacted by the damage that grief is causing in my organism as a whole.

EVERYONE around me pretended they could handle the loss without support (I am NOT in this category, I'm trying anything)-no one went to therapy, not his dad, none of his grandparents, not his aunts or uncles, cousins that were practically siblings. And I realized it’s because I’m the emotional center. It’s just assumed that I’ll take on everyone’s emotional needs. I'll go to counseling, spiritual sessions, inpatient etc… and everyone around me expects to piggyback off of what I learn and the work I do. (While fully shaming me and calling me insane for seeking help). I’m fully empathetic and compassionate to everyone’s grief around me, but in reality, that’s been the most unfair task people have ever asked of me during this time. I, the MOTHER of the child who died, clears myself of all responsibility to carry another’s grief. Much less endure the additional pain placed on me for an adult not managing their own grief. People close to me have projected their pain of loss onto me and quite frankly, it’s discusting. It is not MY responsibility to handle THEIR subsequent addictions, mental breakdowns, or illnesses. I don’t have the capacity to fix anyone else but myself and in turn, my children. I don't even have the desire. While the anger that accompanies grief is warranted, I am not the vessel to absorb it.

I now have to grieve family members who are still alive. One person tried to kidnap my child and expected me to be empathetic to their cries of grief. I was another’s emergency contact and had to handle them through a process of adult guardianship (where the death was the last trauma this persons sanity could endure) and was sued as a reward. I’ve nursed multiple people through illnesses related to substances increased by grief. I haven’t been on the receiving end of casseroles and hugs from THESE people. What’s interesting, is that these are the same people demoralizing me for my lack of perfection while navigating child loss.

Round 1 of grief-I lost my son.

Round 2 of grief-I lost and found myself.

Round 3 of grief-I relinquish responsibility of others pain to the universe.