Guest blogger Kim knows the pain of loss not once but twice in recent months. In this beautifully-written post, she explains her grief in the analogy of watching movies. Thank you, Kim.
Where’s the Remote?
I am enamored with the way a movie completely removes my mind from the seat in which I sit and brings my conscious to a preferred reality. The lights go dim, the carefully planned cinematography fills the screen, and the sound decibels encompass my entire being transporting me to a place that is not my own. A movie’s reality is better than any scenario I can create; I can escape into another world that numbs my mind for the duration of the film. In the movies, happy endings exist, and your large family surrounds you each holiday. In the movies, happiness can be found and silver linings are readily available.
Before 2017, I constantly found myself believing my life was a movie. I wanted a remote control that came with a pause button. Life was so enjoyable that I wished each day could last just a little longer. Even if it were only for a few minutes, I would gladly press pause and watch the beautiful life that I was living unfold. In a moment’s time, the screen went black and the happy ending turned into a nightmare.
In July of 2017, my grandfather died by suicide. In December of 2017, my uncle died by suicide. Father and son, both scenes eerily similar yet vastly different. If you were to ask me what occurred in the months between their deaths, I wouldn’t remember. Each day was a fog that I struggled to endure. At times, I wonder how I survived those days, but I refuse to rewind in order to know. Did I laugh at all? Did I smile and mean it? With these questions constantly present, I find it ironically funny that I ever wished for a pause button.
Today, I find myself fervently begging a god, that I question daily, to show mercy and grant me a fast-forward button. A button that would move over this horrific part of life and bring me to a time where things are “right.” A time where I could make sense of what has happened and accept the present. A time where I had the bravery to press play and act out the charade of a life that I am living. A time where I outwardly appear joyful and inwardly feel it even for a moment.
What stage of life would I fast forward to? I don’t know. Obviously, I can’t see the future, but I find myself incapable of picturing a time in my future where I do not feel broken from this loss. Every day, the wounds are torn open and fresh blood flows freely. Whether that’s someone talking about my grandfather’s memory or saying my uncle’s name, I feel my amateur attempt at sutures removed and the attempt at healing starts over. I see the evidence of infection within my wounds. I hate others who find success and happiness because I know the universe has smiled upon them while scorning what’s left of my family and me. Why was the universe kind enough to provide these people lives without emotional trauma? Why am I forced to live my life wishing time would pass while others soak in each day? This poison in my wounds drives the desire for the fast-forward button mercilessly.
Time heals all wounds is a cruelly laughable platitude that only those who are whole can dare to believe. Time will never heal the wounds that I carry on a daily basis. Time will never replace the loss, hurt, and ever-present sadness that I feel. Time plays a cruel joke of comparison. Time tells me that after nine months I should be able to share happy memories about my grandfather. Time shows that I am late to work and early to wish the day was over. Time reminds me of the fool that I was wishing a day would never end. Unlike the movies, time won’t fast forward over the ugly scenes no one wants to see.
I wish I were being dramatic like an actress in a movie. I wish that I could easily fall out of my depressed character and put on the smile I used to wear so naturally. I wish that this scene were part of the script that could be edited out. Unfortunately, it’s not.
Each day, I am reminded that with a remote control I could master time. I could feel in control for the first time in months, and I could have direct control over the future years. And each day, I am forced to remember that my reality is unlike a movie script, and without a remote, I am unable to control the rate at which my grief moves.
Have comments you’d like to share with Kim? Leave them here or on this blog post on our Facebook page.
“Time heals all is a cruelly laughable platitude that only those who are whole can dare to believe.” is SO incredibly true. People mean well, but they don’t know… they just don’t know….
Hi Kim. I just wanted to say that I truly feel your pain. I’m 2.5 years out from losing my 15 yr old daughter. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of how thing would’ve been. I have the unwanted pleasure of daily flashbacks of finding her.
I found a way to find the positive in anything I can. Instead of 15 short years, I had 15 beautiful years with her. I was able to take her driving! That’s the stuff that keeps me going.
Take all the time you need to grieve in your way and don’t let anyone tell you different. My only advice, make sure you’re talking to someone. Don’t hold your emotions in…they turn into something ugly in the pit of your stomach. At least it did for me.
I wish you luck on getting through your process and just know that you are absolutely NOT alone on this journey.
Morning Kim:) You are writing this in such a fresh time of your healing. You take all the time you need and I do agree with the previous post from Lisa to talk with someone and to share your feelings, thoughts, any emotion you are feeling day to day, hour to hour because some days are not just living one day at a time but on hour at a time with hard work and there are days where you just can’t put in hard work and that is ok too. What has helped me through my journey from losing my husband of 18 years leaving our two kids and myself along with a sister, father, and my parents and brothers behind is going for a slow hike, long walk in fresh air and listening to his favorite music. On days that my anxiety is at bay I run and do higher intensity work outs since I feel like I’m exercising not only for myself but for him and my entire family. On the days I feel strong I am so strong on the days I need a little more TLC on myself I take it and I’ve learned not to feel guilt about it. I also have seen a therapist on and off for 8 years. The number 8 might scare you but it truly feels some days that it just happened that day and I’m afraid death by suicide is a different recovery and not sure if it will ever truly go away but some of my pain has lessened and I’ve learned so much but I still have periods that I struggle and for my situation mostly for my beautiful kids.
Feel your feelings and thank you for your post. Very well written and honestly so true on what this all feels like even 8 years later.
Take care💕Shannan
Beautifully said Shannan. I’m 3 yrs down the road & it feels like yesterday. Excercise, anything physical is great I agree & fresh air 👍
I completely relate to this. In July 2016 I lost my grandma which was hard enough but then in August my 21 yr old nephew died by suicide and then Christmas Eve my dad died by suicide in the same manner that my uncle had in 1992. 2017 was such a hard year trying to survive all of these losses. But I survived with grace from all those around me. You will get there too. Hugs and love from another survivor.
Love to you 💖 xx
Hi Kim,
I lost my husband to suicide in June 2015. I found him and started to get flashbacks, sometimes as many as 100 per day. I started seeing a therapist, who has helped me immensely and was able to more or less stop the flashbacks. Please talk to someone. 💕
Hi Kim😊 You are the first person I have seen in any blogs I have signed up on talking about flashbacks. Thank you. I recently just started seeing a therapist that specializes in trauma and she does do EMDR. I’m ready to try anything. She has not mentioned EMDR to me yet, we are two sessions in so not sure if what we are doing now will be enough for me. I have started journaling almost daily and she has asked me questions that no one has ever asked me and it has sparked a lot of feelings. While painful, I feel a little more free from just 3 weeks into seeing her. Free is what I am aiming for if that makes sense. I did not see my husbands suicide but I had seen him attempt in front of me before he actually completed it. I do get those flashbacks. For me, mine are more of the emotional trauma I endured for almost a full year on his roller coaster of a ride. I have found myself literally running when I have either had a trigger or flashback trying to get out of my own head leading me to get myself and now husband into serious dangerous situations. Those have subsided and hoping it never happens again. I can just keep trying and being honest with my feelings and emotions and not hide one bit of my journey. I’m glad you are getting help and I just wanted you to know how painful it is😔 I used to want to eat awe every memory of my life in that year. Today I don’t want to forget because I cannot forget him and our family and the life we had for so long. I’m taking one day at a time and hoping tomorrow I feel the same☀️ Have a wonderful day and thank you.
Thank you for sharing your pain, grief and journey. My sister died by suicide a year ago this past November and I share the feelings of lack of control in my life since losing my sister. I honestly can’t explain how I survived the minutes and hours, days, weeks, months and eventually what slowly turned into a year. I can’t explain how I survived what seemed unbearable to live with except to say every day was a conscious effort. Like you, I can’t remember much of the past year, I felt like a robot some days I felt like a fraud, other days I was in a fog. I still cry or weep daily.
Grieving, sharing and crying seem to be necessary in order to bear the pain. I also think it helps to know others are living through this process, too. You aren’t alone in this journey. Somehow living slowly becomes more bearable. I absolutely agree with you, time doesn’t heal all, we are forever changed. Peace to you.
I spend many sleepless nights reading these blogs after losing my dad July 2017. Thank you for sharing your thoughts Kim as they made me feel like I am not alone in how I feel 9 months after. I cried at your ability to perfectly explain the feeling of desperately needing that fast forward button. Thank you for sharing.
I have recently lost my adult sibling to suicide. So far, I have coped with my loss by attending two sessions of a general bereavement group. I think I might have found more solace in a suicide-specific bereavement group. I have found more strength through self-help, by reading books which address grief and all of the issues surrounding grief, some which are specific to suicide death. I would like to share the titles of those books with you:
“The Gift of Second-Healing From the Impact of Suicide”-by Brandy Lidbeck
“No Time To Say Goodbye-Surviving the Suicide of a Loved One”, by Carla Fine
“Why Suicide-Questions and Answers about Suicide, Suicide Prevention, and Coping with the Suicide of Someone You Know”-By Eric Marcus
“Healing after the Suicide of a Loved One”-by Ann Smolin, CSW and John Guinan, Phd
“How To Go On Living When Someone You Love Dies”-by Therese A. Rando, Phd
“I Wasn’t Ready To Say Goodbye-Surviving, Coping and Healing After the Sudden Death of a Loved One”-by Brook Noel and Pamela D. Blair, PhD
“Surviving the Death of a Sibling”-by T. J. Wray(Living Through Grief When an Adult Brother or Sister Dies)
“The Grief Recovery Handbook, 20th Anniversary Expanded Edition”, by John W. James and Russell Friedman
Many other books are also available.
I am moved to try to help others who are suffering with grief and to assist in prevention efforts in the future.
I wish you love and peace, and hope that one day you are able to experience joy once again.