After suicide loss, survivors may push themselves to do all the recommended things to get through the grief. But, what’s the rush? Guest blogger Nicole lost her dad earlier this year and has learned to listen to her mind and body over any other advice.
Self-Care and Giving Yourself Permission
This time last year, one of my best friends experienced a sudden loss. I remember sending her messages that, in hindsight, were a list of annoying instructions: Journal. Yoga! Take baths. Drink tea. Sleep! I was not a grief expert, but as a proponent of self-care, I thought these suggestions would be helpful.
Then, in January, my father died from suicide. My whole world collapsed.
For months every morning, my head and heart would physically ache. Each day after work, I was crashing out of sheer exhaustion. I tried to push through the pain and trust that it would get easier, but it didn’t. I felt defective. And pathetic. And exhausted. And sad. These are the words that circled in my mind. I’d think, “I should at least go grocery shopping.” “I should at least be journaling.” “I should at least go for a walk.” But I couldn’t. I felt like I was malfunctioning.
After a particularly difficult day, I re-visited the self-care list I’d sent to my friend and attempted a yoga class. I drove myself to my yoga studio, felt exhausted from the drive alone and proceeded to weep quietly through the whole class. This is self-care, I thought. But really, I wasn’t caring for myself. I was draining my mind through an impossible day of work and then forcing my body through a public yoga class. Nothing about that felt kind or gentle.
After that class, I wondered: why am I pushing myself so hard?
Finally, I made an appointment with my doctor. She listened to me and asked questions and listened some more. She encouraged me to continue therapy and told me to eat nutritious meals – even though I only wanted to eat cookies. She prescribed me medicine and also suggested I reduce my work hours for a few weeks. I resisted this at first. I wanted to keep my normal work schedule because I wanted desperately to feel normal. But sometimes, we just need to give ourselves a break. That doctors’ note – that permission – made all the difference.
Being kind to yourself means listening to your body. For me, that meant cutting my work hours for a while. For you, it may mean something entirely different.
There is no script for navigating this painful, unpredictable, uncharted journey, but I do know that how we talk to ourselves matters. Be gentle. While I’d like to believe that each day will get a little easier, I’ve learned that grief doesn’t work that way. When I have a particularly hard day, instead of feeling like I’m back where I started, I remind myself that I’m trying to exist while enduring unbearable pain and that isn’t pathetic or sad. It’s brave. Today, I’m just trying to survive. And that’s courageous enough.
Eat. Hydrate. Sleep. And be kind to yourself.
Some days that’s all we can do.
After my husband ended his life it took me almost 18 months to hear these words. I always felt guilty if I wasn’t being productive. Finally gave myself a day off. Some days are still just awful but getting a day off is ok. It’s ok to rest, sleep, wonder around a store. It helped my soul.
Exactly – sometimes we just need to give ourselves a day off. It took me a while to accept that doing “nothing” is okay and actually an important part of the healing process. I’m so sorry you are walking through this journey, too, but I’m glad to hear that you have found things that are helpful and comforting.
Well said. I’m the queen of being hard on myself, and it took me a very long time to learn how to be kind to myself grieving suicide loss. Thanks for sharing your story, and for the reminder.
I also lost a parent to Suicide this year
Everything was as good as it could be but I got a terrible phone all I’ll never forget
My dad my hero had taken his own life 82 years old the strongest man Iv ever known he had stood infront of a train an killed me inside forever I don’t know how people get on after such a tragedy I will forever miss my amazing father an forever feel dead after his death I miss him so much x
I’m so sorry, Niccie. I miss my dad so much, too. When I catch myself focusing on his death, sometimes it helps me to know that he isn’t hurting anymore, and that he would want me to focus on the happy memories we have together. Its still very hard. He will always be on my mind and in my heart.
My husband took his life 18 months ago and this fall, both my kids left to attend college. I feel like I am back at square one. I cannot get away from the fact that my husband is gone because my house is *empty* and the walls aren’t talking back to me. I am faced with that every minute of every day. And I have to keep reminding myself that I am experiencing another loss. On top of the most unmanageable loss ever. I need to be gentle to myself. I need to tell the voices in my head to be gentle. I need to give myself permission to navigate through this new territory. Because I feel everywhere I am being told to get with it, get over it, get on with it. Why am I not doing more? What is wrong with me? This is the hardest thing I have ever done and I am so exhausted and tired of trying so hard just to stay sane.
Oh, Linda, my heart aches for you. I know sending your kids off to college is a big transition, but even more so when you are without your spouse. Someone described sudden loss to me as having to grieve a future lost with your loved one even more than the past. I hope you can continue to be gentle with yourself and in time I hope you can connect with other empty nesters and find some new routines that bring you comfort. Remember to take breaks and be patient with yourself.