Dealing with Grief

Hello beautiful souls,

I sat staring at this screen for a while because I had no idea where to even begin. This feels extremely hard and scary to write. We live in a society where being vulnerable to others is frowned upon. I am going to share my truth with you today and believe me when I say, it scares the heck out of me.

Our blog is titled “journey,” and let me tell you, these last seven years have been a wild journey. Our latest journey in the last eight months have been the most transformative and the most painful. I must tell you that as I write this, I keep stopping because I am not sure what words to use or how to explain. My hands are shaking, and my body feels a little sick. Maybe I am not ready to share yet and maybe this blog post will never get to you. If you are reading this now, just know I am deeply scared to share this truth with you, not because I care what others think, but because of how isolated it makes me feel.

Grief is a sneaky bitch! Greif sucks, and yet at some point in all our lives we will deal with it. There is the one word that describes the lack of support in our society: Dealing with grief. We do not deal with grief. We think we do, but we do not. We do not support each other, there really isn’t much education shared about it, and we push it away. When someone dies, everyone comes around at first; but after a while, everyone goes back to their lives. People bring food, hugs, tears, love… but no one brings how to deal with grief. There are what feels like a million books available to purchase on amazon — trust me, I have almost all of them. Where is the network of support on how to really handle grief? Even our little grief blog is available, but it doesn’t really cover the depth of grief. You can find tons of people grieving on Instagram and we all connect and follow each other, knowing deep down that yeah, you have grief too.

But as I look around, I feel as though we all just dance around grief, sharing what we think and feel, ignoring what we can. Trying to stay positive when we can, feeling connected to others on social media with grief. But at the end of the day, when you are alone holding grief, feeling isolated and alone, what are you supposed to do? Reach out to a friend who is now sick of hearing you talk about your pain? Find a counselor or therapist that works in grief recovery, but now you’re afraid everyone will know you’re weak? Why do we live in a society where if you ask for help because your mental health is hurting, you are considered weak? Just think about all the horrible things that were said about Simone Biles.

Greif happens, and yet what is the right way to deal with it? There is so much bad stigma wrapped around it. People want you to move on and not talk about it. Why can’t we talk about it? Because it is so darn painful, and no one wants to talk about pain. No one wants to talk about how the entire depths of your soul was just ripped apart and shattered and you have no idea how to go on. We can’t talk about these things. People die, we have a funeral, you cry, you get food and hugs, and now you must move on because everyone has a life to get back to. Yet your entire life crumbled to the ground, and you have no idea what to do.

I am here to tell you that I do not have the answers regarding grief, I wish I did. I acted like I did. Here is where I am at in my grief. Six weeks ago, everything came to the surface. Six weeks ago, I had made the decision that I no longer wanted to live. I was starting to make plans to kill myself. I was planning my suicide. You have no idea how hard that is to type, no idea. I wanted to die.

When Art first died, I wanted to die too, but I never in the last seven years really thought about doing it. In fact, I felt like a part of me had died with him.  Now I was thinking of ways to kill myself, how do it and where to do it.

Every night for almost a month, I went to bed hoping I wouldn’t wake up. When I woke up, I was disappointed I was still here and started to look for ways to die. Something was happening inside of me that was scaring me to death, literally. I didn’t know it at the time, but the pain I was carrying around for the last seven years was becoming too heavy to carry.

I have struggled being back here in Southern California since our Hawaii trip in April. I guess if you have read that blog post, you can see the signs of the struggle. I knew I was struggling, but I didn’t understand the depths of the struggle. I can see now that it was a cry for help. When we left the island, deep down I wanted to die. I did not want to come back here, it was too painful to be here. Yes, in Hawaii I was still carrying the pain, but I didn’t have to deal with it as much. I feared coming back here to the depth of my core, and I didn’t understand why.

One day as I was researching suicide, I realized I could not do it here at home because I didn’t want Jay to find me. I looked into other ways and figured maybe a cop would find me and then they would come and tell Jay. Then it hit me! I am in so much pain, feeling so alone and scared, because Art died. The pain I am feeling is because someone died. Now I would be inflicting this pain on Jay. As much as I no longer wanted to live, I never wanted to hurt Jay — even though at the time I believed she would be better off without me. I believe my love for Jay is my saving grace and why I am still here today. When Jay was sixteen, she went through an existential crisis, and I remember her telling me that she wanted to die too — the only reason she didn’t do it is because she didn’t want to do that to me. I remember being scared out of my mind because that was the first time my daughter told me she wanted to die. Now I truly believe our love for each other is why we are both here today.

I sat sobbing in my living room, realizing I wanted to die but I couldn’t hurt Jay and I needed help. For a moment I was scared to death to ask for help because I didn’t want to be considered crazy, weak or anything else we stick as a bad rap on mental health. I was hurting, lost, scared, confused and I felt very isolated and alone. Even to this very day I still feel very isolated, and it truly does scare me.

I went to Jay and I told her everything, and I reached out for professional help. On the very same day I was plotting my suicide, I was able to speak to a professional therapist. My favorite yoga teacher on YouTube happened to do a video sponsored by Better Help around this time, and I decided to give them a try. For anyone interested, it’s online with a weekly video call and 24/7 access to your therapist via a chat. They have an emergency button too, which would allow you to instantly talk to someone. Click here to visit their website. It is still hard for me to process all of this. I am in extensive therapy now and I speak to my therapist on a daily basis. I am dealing with some dark and twisty stuff.

When I say grief is a bitch, it really is. For seven years, I never allowed myself to deal with my grief. For seven years, I would replay the entire cancer journey over and over in my head. If we drove by a place, which is called a trigger by the way, I would replay that memory. A memory such as Art throwing up on the side on the road. I would replay it, start to feel a feeling associated with that trigger, and then I would shut it all down! I would tell myself not now, I have a child to raise. I did this for seven years. I can tell you I have only ugly cried over Art three times in seven years. Once in the hotel room the day he died. By the way, right afterwards I told myself to get over it, I needed to be there for my Jay.  Once in the shower after I went out on a date this past December. A couple weeks ago I cried while I was working with my therapist and learning to feel the pain and let it go. Trust me, this is still a process.

So how can someone seven years later still be grieving their late husband? Trust me, that was my question too. I know grief never leaves, but it is a whole other ballpark when you do not deal with your grief. When I was told I was stuck in my grief and that I never allowed myself to truly grieve Art, I got angry. I was angry at my therapist. I said she was wrong. I told her all the things I have done in the last seven years and my grief was dealt with and over. WRONG!

In the last seven years, I have run from my grief. I have shut it down. I have ignored it. I worked on other things instead, all while thinking I was dealing with my grief. I traveled the entire first year, which I do not regret, but it was a way to run away from the reality of grief. When things got too tough here at home, we were on a plane out of here. I joined a million different gyms, searching for an escape. We did the whole Hollywood thing, which kept us away and distracted. Jay got more involved in musical theatre, so we never had down time. I learned my new identity without Art, what I like and don’t like. We remodeled the entire house and got rid of Art’s stuff. We stayed extremely busy, always at Disneyland, going to shows or on a trip somewhere. I even went back to school, which I definitely do not regret doing. I believe it has been great for me, but it was also a distraction. We were always looking for new things to do and more things to do. Busy was the key!

I truly believed I had handled my grief in my own little way. I also thought that after Art died, my dad died and family and friends walked out, I had no time to grieve. I had a child to raise by myself. My daughter had already been through enough, and I needed to be there for her. I shut it all down, focused on her, and kept us busy hoping that over time it would just go away. Besides, wasn’t starting a grief blog dealing with my grief? No, not really.  

Grief doesn’t work like that. It never goes away. If you don’t get help and the support you need, or do not find a way to release it, the grief builds — it grows and will eventually explode all over you. That is exactly what happened to me. It exploded, leaving me wanting to kill myself because it was more than I could handle. Losing Art was the most painful and worst experience of my entire life. I have had some bad stuff happen in my life, we all have, right? I grew up with an alcoholic abusive mother, a father who used me as a shield. I have been robbed at gunpoint where the robber put the gun on my forehead and threatened to kill me. I have lost a baby. Before we lost our second child, we had two hard years of trying to get pregnant with Jay.  I have lost jobs, almost lost our home at one time. Car accidents, loss of family members, loss of pets, an illness that put me in bed for six months and so much more. NOTHING, I tell you NOTHING broke me to my core and hurt me more than losing Art. NOTHING!!! I had no idea how to even deal with the depths of the pain I have been carrying around for seven years. Zero idea! It is a paralyzing, debilitating pain that I could not acknowledge because I feared it would kill me. It almost did!

There it is, beautiful souls. This is where our journey has taken us. Right now, I am on a deep healing journey. I talk to my therapist every day. I am open and honest with Jay where I am at every day with my emotions and how I am feeling. I am allowing myself to feel my emotions, which is extremely hard.  I have had some scary trauma releases. During all this, I find it amazing how connected our emotions and our bodies truly are.

One day, things got so intense I was vomiting into the toilet. I have been told that is a trauma release. I am doing a lot of shadow work, diving inward. It’s very scary, but I have great support from my therapist and my amazing daughter. I cry a lot now — the key is I allow myself to cry. It is not always easy, but necessary for my healing. I do a lot of yoga and I am practicing mindfulness daily.  My therapist turned me onto Eckhart Tolle works, and we are both gaining enlightenment from his teachings.  We have taken down all the photos of Art, which was hard for me at first. I have learned that seeing his photo right now is a trigger and not healthy for my healing. It was tough because I felt like I was turning back on him, or that I was letting Jay down. Those were just my thoughts and not reality. Healing is what matters right now.

I do feel very isolated and alone. I do not feel I have any friends I can turn to for support.  However, I am extremely grateful to Jay. I know the universe put us together for a reason, and I am so grateful for her love! I don’t think I will ever be able to repay her for her amazing love and strength during this time. I am learning so much about myself and why I do the things I do. I am taking this one day at a time. I am learning how important mental health really is. I am learning that it is okay to grieve even when it feels paralyzing. At the end of this road, the darkness that I have been carrying, when acknowledged, will eventually turn to light.

Imagine that: Our deep, ugly grief we carry can turn into light. That is my hope now, that all the dark and twisty I have been carrying around for seven years will eventually turn to light and I will be free from this pain. Here is what I cling to right now: If I do the work and trust the process, I will be FREE from the pain that almost killed me.

My hope in sharing this is that if you have been feeling alone or isolated, or even have thoughts of killing yourself, please ask for help. I know the pain; I know the loneliness and fear that comes with it. I know what is feels like to want to die and feel that no one can help you. There is help! Please reach out and do not suffer alone. There is hope.

I am walking my healing journey now, acknowledging my trauma and using the tools I have been given to heal. I do not know how much we will be on social media or when we will be writing more blog posts. Everything in our life right now is on hold, including beach cleanups and sustainability writing.  Jay was going to keep it all going but she is also working on stuff in her personal life. Don’t worry, her stuff is fun, not dark and twisty. This journey is a lot of work for me right now. I have no idea how long this will take, but I didn’t get here over night. One day at a time. Accepting this won’t be easy. Acknowledging the pain, doing the work and having hope the pain will eventually turn to light. Free from pain, being present in the moment and having gratitude that healing is always an option.

Please, if someone is placed on your mind, reach out to them. Be kind to everyone because you never know what they are going through. If the darker parts of this post resonated for you, know that there is help! It truly works, I’m experiencing the benefits right now! The pain does not last forever, but only if you take the steps to get help. You can’t do this alone. Here is the link to the Better Help website, but reach out for therapy wherever makes you comfortable. Also, the U.S. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 800-273-8255 and available 24/7. There is also this website, which is an international suicide textline available 24/7 through text message instead of a phone call. Help is available! No matter how much pain you feel, you are forever and always a beautiful soul whose life is valuable.

Sending you all much love and light,

Shell