Joy is awesome, but.....

*I started writing this about a week ago and am just now getting back to finish it.*

The juxtaposition of true joy and horrible grief can feel very bizarre, but it is also starting to feel...normal. I mean, it is my new  normal, but I am starting to feel sort of comfortable in this place.

I have had several really wonderful experiences recently. I got to have a long-awaited trip to the coast with my mom and my sister. My two daughters spent part of one day with us. That whole time was a wonderful, joyous blessing. I was home for three days, and then went to see some dear friends a day's drive to the south, a visit that included another couple of days of "ocean therapy." It was a truly wonderful time. Two days ago, I got to go on a really special day-trip with three very dear friends. We had a really precious time together. The weather was glorious, the scenery stunning, and the time spent together was a true blessing.

In the course of these wonderful experiences, I felt refreshed and loved and...happy. For the first time since that awful day in June, I felt like myself. I smiled and laughed freely and joyously. It felt so good.

I know that for the people who know me and care about me, it is a tremendous relief to see me happy; to know that I am feeling refreshed, and having joy.

But here's the thing.....

The fact that I have had fun, and have felt joy...does not fix my grief.

The joy does not wipe away my profound sadness. It's not one-or-the-other.

The joy and the grief exist side by side.

For nearly four months, the profound sadness has dominated. There have been small, quiet bits of gladness, but the grief has towered over them.

All that has happened, with the wonderful, happy times in the past few weeks, is that the joy part of my life got a serious boost; the balance became less wildly uneven than it has been.

It's not that having fun times suddenly, somehow makes me all better.

This grief will never go away. It cannot be displaced or replaced by another experience, no matter how deeply joyful. The deep well of sadness will always be with me now, for the rest of my life. It will not always dominate, but it will never actually go away. It will exist alongside every other experience that I have. This is part of the bizarre, and sometimes jarring, nature of grief.  I can be walking on the beach on a beautiful day with a dearly loved friend, totally enjoying the time and drinking in the restful joy...while talking about the gut-deep agony of Michael's suicide. For me, the beauty of the moment does not lessen the pain, but also, the reality of my grief does not rob the moment of its beauty.

Restful days, beautiful scenery, time with people who are precious to me...while these things cannot lift away my pain, in a way I treasure them more deeply than ever before. It's sort of like taking a beautiful jewel and setting it against black velvet. The depth of the darkness behind makes the jewel shine more brightly, enhances the glitter of its facets, intensifies its color, and draws your attention to its beauty.

I will go on being very, very sad for a very, very long time. 

In the midst of this long, wearisome journey of pain, I am more grateful than ever for those moments of love, friendship, relaxation and beauty. I am grateful for the gift, because it is a gift, of genuine  laughter.

I am so grateful for the merciful gift of joy.

The Cousin George Construct

So, this is another of the things that have helped...

In the week following Michael's service, we moved out of the house we've lived in for over twenty-three years. As we packed, I heard from the other room, "Moooom?" The voice of distress.

I was in one storage room facing a box of Michael's Christmas ornaments. Our daughter was in the next room, facing a box of his childhood treasures.  We had both been punched in the chest, stopped in our tracks by the sight of these boxes.. We knew that this would continue to happen as we packed.

I really feel that this was a God thing, that He gave me this idea in the midst of that difficult moment.

"Okay," I said, "we need to reframe this so we can survive packing. Let's say this: we have this weird cousin George who left a whole bunch of his stuff in our house. Because he is so weird, he wrote someone else's name on everything."

We had so much to do, and we did not have the physical or emotional energy to have our hearts broken every time we came across something of Michael's. We needed a way to just keep going, to move past those moments without falling apart.

Curiously, the Cousin George idea really helped us! We have used it often.

Any time something is a little too close to the bone, a little too close to the deep pain, we "Cousin George" the moment. If we need to talk about something revolving around his death, and it's a moment when it just hurts too much to say his name, we say George instead. We talk about George's clothes, George's birthday, and so on.

There are still some things that are just too deep and too raw, that you just can't "Cousin George" your way out of, but in many moments this past four months, this way of reframing the situation has proven truly helpful.

How can I keep my kid alive?

This is something that I have been asked in the past few months. And I'm pretty sure that there are others who have not asked outright, though they'd like to. I've been finding out how very many people are just desperately trying to help a loved one stay alive.

I'm not going to go into detail about Michael's death on here. We did end up learning some things about what led up to that fateful moment. It might answer questions if I talked about it, or maybe even be of help to others, but several people in our family really feel that this is private information and so I'll respect their feelings by not speaking about it publicly.

What I would like to do is to share some really helpful and important things my family and I have learned about mental health. There really are some things that can make a genuine difference, and my deepest hope would be that maybe some bit that we've learned might be of help to someone.

***I do not presume to give medical advice- I just want to share things we've learned, to maybe point others in a helpful direction, to give ideas for folks research and try.*** 

>>> If you or someone you love is having suicidal thoughts, please please please get help! In a crisis situation, medication can be life-saving. Even if a person later shifts to "natural" remedies or lifestyle changes, the most critical thing in the moment is...life. What helps the person stay alive, right now today, is the right thing. There is a new suicide hotline number in the US: simply dial 988   

Michael was not in a season of depression when he died, but many people wrestle with depression and suicidal thoughts on a regular basis, and I'd like to speak to that.

Depression can have both neurochemical and emotional roots.

If a person's depression originates from emotional issues or trauma, it is vital to find a counselor who is a good fit, to really help them deal with this in a healthy way. It can truly help to talk with someone who does not have an emotional investment in their well-being. They can speak more freely to someone who won't be hurt by their inner truth. A counselor can also offer really helpful tools and strategies for coping. There should never, ever be shame over needing to talk to someone about inner problems, or troubles in relationship. Probably most of us would truly benefit from such counsel.

There are medications that can be truly helpful, easing one back from the sharp edge of the cliff. There should be no shame, ever, in needing medical help with mental health.

There are also medications that can actually increase suicidal thoughts. It is vital to be under careful supervision by a medical professional if a person is on anti-anxiety or anti-depressant medication.

They can be real life-savers, but can also have the opposite effect. It's really important to be careful with medications.

Now, here is what has been really good news for members of my family...

We have been learning some really interesting things in the past year, about the powerful link
between gut health and mental health.

The short version is that many neurotransmitters (brain chemicals) are actually produced in the gut (intestines). Isn't that wild? I had no idea. These are the things like Epinephrine, Dopamine, Norepinephrine, DHEA, GABA...the things that govern mood, motivation, focus, etc.

A person whose gut health is compromised often has depression and anxiety, and the reverse is true- that people with mental health struggles often also have compromised gut health. Sleep issues are also a big part of this loop.

All kinds of things can impact gut health. In my own situation, it was some heavy-hitting antibiotics that saved my life but wrecked my gut. I'm thankful to be alive, but I do deal with long-lasting consequences.

Even simple things like NSAID painkillers (i.e. ibuprofen) can kill off good gut bacteria. There is some really good information about this in the book "The Plant Paradox." I'm not sure that everything in the book is legit, but the information about what kills the good guys in our bellies is astonishing.

I see a Naturopath who has really helped me. In the world of naturopathy, there are all sorts, from complete quacks to those who really know what they're doing. Part of what I like about my doctor is that she uses normal things like blood tests to look for answers. I hope it's not too much information, but I did a urine test kit that she gave me, to check my neurotransmitter levels. It tested epinephrine, norepinephrine, GABA, DHEA, glysine, histamine, and some others I don't recall right now. The results were enlightening. Instead of taking anti-anxiety or anti-depressant medications, I take natural supplements that help my body produce what it needs. I really like this approach, as there simply are no harmful side effects.

A family member has taken a different approach to mental health, with impressive results. She already ate a diet low in sugar (she just doesn't like most sweets), does not drink, smoke or use any drugs, and eats a pretty healthy diet with lots of veggies....but she still lived in the gray wasteland of clinical depression, and had very low energy levels. She learned that sardines have something in them that can really help with certain neurotransmitters. She got some good quality canned sardines, and just started eating one or two each morning. The very first day, she felt a level of optimism that she had not experienced in many years. She has also addressed her gut health with high quality probiotics and raw fermented veggies- both of which help to restore gut health. Her energy, mood, and mental clarity are dramatically better than they have been in years. It is exciting to see!

The testing and supplements I have used are pretty costly. High quality probiotics can be costly. (but so are pharmaceutical medications!!) I believe that they are far cheaper than the steep cost of poor mental and physical health, but the cost is still a real consideration.

Sardines are a much easier, less expensive first step. A person could just eat them from the can (tons of respect if you can- that's too much for me!), or maybe make sardine toast- mashing them up on toast with maybe some avocado and hot sauce, or whatever is healthy and sounds good. Olive oil, roasted veggies, green onions, minced garlic....

Other things also impact mood and gut health, like sugar (America's drug of choice!!!). Cutting way back on sugars and refined starches greatly reduces inflammation in the whole body, which helps the gut and the brain, and pretty much everything else. Artificial sweeteners have all kinds of detrimental effects on many systems in the body (they're death to gut health!).

There are good things that are naturally anti-inflammatory, like coconut oil (preferably organic, unrefined). It is so good for our bodies and our minds! They're learning a lot now about the link between inflammation, elevated blood sugar levels and dementia. Including a healthy plant fat like coconut oil in your diet can make a big difference in overall health, and brain health in particular.

Lowering the glycemic index of your diet can really help with inflammation and gut/brain health- eating complex carbohydrates (like veggies), rather than simple carbs (like pasta, potato chips, sugary treats), and using natural sweeteners that have less of an impact on blood sugar (such as natural stevia, or coconut nectar).

So many of the pieces of advice for lifting the dark clouds of depression are difficult for a depressed person to implement. If it's all you can do to get out of bed and function, deciding to start up an exercise program can seem just impossible. For someone in that place, making a few dietary changes might feel more doable. Maybe they can start eating organic yogurt with live active cultures in it. That's a start. Maybe they can handle taking a probiotic supplement once a day. Maybe they can handle the sardine idea. That one is definitely worth trying. They're like tiny miracle fish. :)

I've been amazed to see how a few simple dietary changes can make a truly positive difference in the mental health of someone I love.

Here is another, very important consideration: be careful and informed about anything that you put into your body, even something "healthy." If you're on medication, do the research on what can interfere with it or cause bad reactions.

Also, be very careful and informed about stopping taking things. Never just quit a medication without talking to your doctor or pharmacist. Let someone who knows all the ramifications help you to wean off of medications, if it's safe for you to do so. Someone we love just had a stroke after she stopped taking her medication, because she felt it was too expensive. So, so sad.

Even things that people take to help get better results with exercise can have potentially serious or even fatal side effects. Be so, so, so careful with anything you put in your body!!! It's just not worth the risk. Also, be extremely careful about stopping taking things. That can also be so dangerous.

I really love that what has helped my loved one are things that have no dangerous side effects or damaging potential.

If someone you love is wrestling with depression and suicidal thoughts, my heart is so with you. That is such a scary, painful road. I pray that your story and theirs will have a happy, healthy ending.

I hope that maybe some bit of what we've learned might be of help to you and your loved one.

Sometimes, the mail makes me cry

It does.

I just got home, after being gone for over a week. It was a wonderful trip, spending time with our daughters, and my mom and sister, making beautiful memories. We had ocean time (a.k.a. "ocean therapy"), beautiful scenery, fun, adventure, cozy relaxation....a truly lovely, rejuvenating time.

When I got home, I greeted the ecstatic dogs and let them outside. They came right back in, to spend more time being excited that I'm home. What a sweet welcome. Before unloading the car, I thought I'd skim through the mail, to see if there is anything requiring immediate attention.

That one pile of mail triggered myriad emotions.

It included:
-notice of a lovely donation  by a family member in Michael's memory, to an organization that supports mental health. I was so touched by this. <3 <3

-a standard bank statement for one of Michael's accounts, which reminds me that I need to cancel the account
-a letter from his renter's insurance company, stating that in light of the recent payment, his policy has been reinstated.....except that this payment was accompanied by a letter explaining that he died three months ago, so....yeah. I'll need to 'splain it to them again, I guess
-a notice demanding immediate payment from Michael's phone company. Was that not among the bills I took care of several weeks ago? Must not have been. Okay, I'll call them tomorrow.

These are not the things that make me cry. Okay, the first one came close. It made me misty, and grateful for the kind gesture.

The other things, the practical stuff, does not wreck me.The bills and demands for payment are like heavy rocks that get handed to me. They're hard to lift, and some have sharp bits that poke and scrape, but I grit my teeth and get on with the job of dealing with them. They don't make me cry.

The one that broke my heart wide open, and left me doubled up sobbing over a lapful of papers and torn envelopes was this note:

"Dear Mr and Mrs (......)
We have received your payment on your son's account and are returning it. (....) sends our deepest condolences to you and your family during this time.  We are writing off his balance as we know this time can be a very expensive time and every bit may help. Our deepest sympathy..."

...and it is hand-signed by three members of their staff, and my check to them was enclosed.

Their kindness is beyond price.

This is what opens the floodgates.

Kindness.

It is kindness that undoes me.

The Beauty of Disrupted Plans

I have noticed something interesting in the past few months.

Usually, I don't switch directions very gracefully. Abrupt changes of plan usually ruffle my feathers. I get frustrated and upset when what I expected hits a roadblock and is thrown in a new direction.

Until recently.

You might be tempted to think that this is just because I've been dealt such a massive blow that anything else pales in comparison...which is true...but there is something else happening.

I have started to see a better best behind the frustration of my plans.

This is changing the way I see these disruptions. Now, instead of getting mad and grousing about it all, I have started to look ahead. This usually shows me the "why" behind the gear-shift.

If I look to the result of the change, I almost always see that this different ending is actually much better than the one I had planned.

Yesterday was a good example of this.

My dear mom had agreed to go with me on a difficult errand: a fact-finding mission to the monument place...the place where you order headstones. Gravestones. I have learned that we may need to order a marker six months or more before we actually want it installed, so I need to start this process now.

I was not sure just how hard this errand would be, and it helped to have Mom along with me.

We drove to the place and started looking around. It was difficult, but not horribly so. I thought it was considerate that the people let us just look around in peace. After a while, I went to the office, to ask if they could answer some questions for me.

On the door was a note: "Working at the cemetery. Back after 2 pm. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

My first response was an inward groan. Great. Now I'd have to repeat this difficult trek.

But then I remembered the many times lately when I have seen my frustrations in a new light. I thought about what it meant that we could not sit down with someone right away.

Oh. This was much better. Much, much better.

Mom had been telling me that there are certain kinds of stone that are not allowed at the small cemetery where our boy's ashes will go. It is located near the small country town where my mom lives. Her parents, my grandparents, already lie there, and Michael will be near them. The water there is very hard, very harsh. When they water the grass, the stones get wet, and over time they can be damaged. A dark-colored stone would look bad very quickly, due to mineral deposits from the water. Also, I was pondering the merits of stone versus brass markers, and of flat versus standing.

Not being able to sit down with the monument folks right away turned out to be a blessing. It gave me time to go to the cemetery with my mom and walk around, looking at different markers, different styles and materials, and seeing how each stands the tests of time and hard water.

Today, when I go back into town, I will feel much better prepared to discuss the options. I have a much better, clearer idea of what works well in that particular setting. I will be able to ask specific questions, because I know now what it is that I need to know.

The frustration of my plan was the best possible thing that could have happened.

It led me to the much "better best" of feeling prepared and informed for the conversation I will have today.

This is one of the many ways that I see the loving hand of God gently leading me through this valley of shadow, lighting the way and cushioning many of the blows. I fully believe that it was no accident that we went to the monument place during the one time when nobody was around.

What looked like a frustration at first glance turned out to be merciful perfection.