I knew I would need to revisit this topic again because there simply is a lot there, but the trouble with grief, and particularly traumatic grief (if you missed the first post and need the background on this, you can find that Here - Traumatic Grief) is that you have to relive the moment to go back and discuss it. So even as I type words here on this page I am putting myself back into the places I am not necessarily wanting to be. It’s not ideal, so I had to wait until a safer time to write. It’s been 2 months since Andy left us. But I had 42 years of Andy, so 2 months is simply a tick mark on that scale. To me, he left me yesterday. “Yesterday” changed me for forever. A few weeks ago I had to travel for business and I was smack in the middle of figuring out how to deal with my trauma grief. My brother had died a tragic accidental gun related death a few weeks prior and I had not yet fully figured out how to process that. I found myself steamrolled not only THAT he had in fact died but also HOW he had died, and now I was somehow re-living that detail over and over in my head for hours on end. I could be vacuuming my house and I would find myself in the front seat of the car with Andy as he grabbed his coffee cup and laptop and then his bag and then…., or I could be driving to work then getting out of my own car and then be right there with Andy in his car……, or I could be lying in bed in the middle of the night and I would find myself covered in Andy’s blood unable to revive him. Those are the unprompted examples. Worse, there are prompted examples because those are sudden and tend to go to darker places. Prompted examples are scenes from TV shows, discussions in everyday conversations, news stories, story-lines from books that remind you of whatever trauma you are experiencing. Prompted or non-prompted it is a reality you are bombarded with while navigating traumatic grief and it’s tough because some you can control and some you can’t. And you are about to see just how much it floods your world. A few weeks ago as I was trying to re-incorporate myself back into my life after Andy’s death, I was traveling alone for the first time and in that short 48 hour trip this is how that unfolded:
- On my way to the airport, I stopped for lunch, grabbed a table and ordered my meal. As soon as it arrived a group of 3 people sat in the booth behind me. Their occupation: Shooting range employees. For the next 30 minutes they discussed targets, bullets, how bullets exploded on impact, and various aspects of such. For the next 30 minutes, I forced myself to keep the contents of my stomach and my eyes in their respective locations.
- I arrived at the airport and while in the security line stood next to 2 border patrol (?) agents with guns on hip in line next to me. Seeing those flashes of metal on hip, immediately turned to Ron and said our key word (yes, we now have a key word) so he would know we need to start talking about any topic at all – well, I realized Ron wasn’t with me.
- While at my gate, I met the most delightful lady who wanted to engage in conversation about her husband who had recently died unexpectedly – we spent the next 30 minutes discussing such. But we were talking about a husband who recently died unexpectedly.
- Somehow when we boarded the plane, her seat got changed and she ended up next to me and wanted to know all the details of my brother’s death (this ended up being ok, but I end up answering a few more questions that I was comfortable answering at her request; and as soon as she heard it was accidental it really went from there).
- I arrive at the airport to get in a cab who had the news on discussing all kinds of violent stories in the newscast.
- The book I took with me on my trip – my “safe to read” book opened with a gun scene as I didn’t realize the main character was a cop.
- Arrive back from my trip, get in the car, turn on the radio “women shot when dog jumps on night stand and dislodges boyfriends gun…” turn off radio.
The point of this “bullet point” list is you can’t escape your “triggers” no matter how well intended you are. See, you can say "let's bite the bullet and get it done"... well, that's a trigger to someone whose brother died from a gun shot wound. It's simply every where. And this is my list from only 48 hours. What about yours? Your list, if you have traumatic grief, could be larger than mine in a day’s time frame. This I know: I go to the store to buy my next “safe” book and find out “a Man called Ove” spends the entire book talking about his dead wife and trying to find a way to join her. Nowhere on the book jacket is any of that said. Or I want to invest in my friends and they want to talk about what is going on in their lives which may include an “unsafe” topic for me, or I need to round on my patients at work and that includes dealing with death and dying.
But really let’s face it: I can’t avoid funerals forever. I can’t not ever ride in a white BMW again. I can’t not park next to a Tesla ever again. I can’t not carry a laptop around with me because he was when he died. I can’t avoid THAT section of town. I can’t avoid THAT restaurant forever. I can’t not go to the mall because his favorite store is there. I can't not watch that show because it was his favorite. I can't not look at those pictures because he's in them too. I can't look not look at that document because it now says Andy's estate. I can’t be mad at you because you are mad at him. I can’t never cook those steaks in my freezer for the rest of my family because he was supposed to eat them with me. You simply can’t stop the world from spinning and you can’t live under a rock forever to keep the conversations under control, and you can’t avoid the street your brother died on, and you can’t never step foot in his house again even though that brings you to your knees…………………. You simply can’t. (Note: some of this list above shifted away from trauma grief and into routine grief. Don't confuse the two as they are very different.)
So if you can’t…you certainly have to figure out how you can. And that is what I have been spending my time doing. The level of trauma has changed from hour 2 to hour 24 in that I have gotten better at forcing myself through it. In hour 2 of “yesterday”, just hearing the word “gun” spoken could send me into the corner of a room in tears. Now in hour 24, I can hear (I know when to close my eyes) a shooting on the television screen and still continue with the show. My heart beat rises in my chest and my adrenaline rushes, but you would never know. In hour 2 of “yesterday”, I couldn’t drive onto the street where he was killed without melting into tears. Now in hour 24, I can drive by the scene and glance at the parking space and continue driving. Bile rises in my throat and water fills the lid of my eyes, but you would never know. In hour 2 of “yesterday”, I had to leave the table when you spoke of your son going to target practice. Now in hour 24, I can sit through the conversation and nod my head. Inside my head I have tuned you out and am thinking about what I have to do after work tomorrow until you have finished speaking, but you would never know.
Hour 2 was about how I can’t. Hour 24 has become all about how I can. It’s a process. Not a 23 hour process as represented on this “my brother died yesterday figurative continuum” but in that in these almost 9 weeks I’ve moved from crumpling in the floor at the reminder of the trauma of how Andy died to now slowly returning to television, books, conversations, and outings. I visited Andy’s grave a few weeks back, and I actually did go sit in the parking spot in which he died a few days ago. I’m still traumatized on the inside, though less as my heart and mind have found safer ground, but more functional on the outside. I imagine maybe even “tomorrow” I can actually listen in full to your conversation as you tell me about your son’s target practice, because in time, all things heal. There will remain a scar, but we do in fact heal and almost always function again.
Why am I telling you this? Because no one is talking about it. I had never heard of it or wasn’t exposed to it before “yesterday”. You may find yourself here and I don’t want you to be caught off guard when you suddenly find yourself needing to ask the waitress to change tables and everyone else at the table looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. You haven’t. And don’t second guess yourself for needing to ask your friend to change the topic of conversation. It’s ok for some things to be “off limits” for a while until you heal. You need to be ok and proactive with setting some boundaries. You’ve probably never had to do that before, but now is the time to be bold and step out and say this is ok, and this is not ok until further notice. You are just processing some things you have never had to process before. What has helped me the most? Surrounding myself with people who are praying me through it. Don’t do this alone. I have a small group of women who I update regularly. They check in on me, they give me words of encouragement, and when I am having a tough “trauma” day, they pray me through it. I’ve surrounded myself in a wise counsel of Christ-centered women who have proven to have my best interests at heart, who have supported me when life has thrown me the tough curves, and who have sought God’s ways over their own way. They’re my trauma team. And I know when life comes at me again in the future, they will be there for that too. For now, their only task is praying me through this trauma grief and it has turned this experience completely around for me. I’m relishing in Hour 24 because of their steadfast prayer.
Andy died “yesterday” and it is a day that has changed me forever. Still, there is so much left to do “tomorrow". What choice do I have left but to rummage through this trauma grief with my team in tow? So I’m pushing out the “I can’t” because “I can” is the only acceptable option here. I want to leave you better prepared should you find yourself here. There is only one way to do this and that is with someone else. Trust me on that one.
To access previous blog posts - click HERE.
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