"I Can't Get Up!"

The Window Trail at Big Bend National Park (March 2017)

You may remember the commercial, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”  This commercial touched a deep fear, helplessness.  Falling down can be very embarrassing.  In fact, it can be humiliating.  Being helpless opens up the floodgates of the reservoirs of self-doubt and vulnerability that we generally hold in check.  But there are times when events and circumstances overfill the reservoirs and we find ourselves stumbling in mind and soul.  Self-doubt and vulnerability overwhelm us. 

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

Grief is one of those experiences that are likely to overwhelm out ability to cope with our insecurities and vulnerabilities.  It can be a “falling down.”  When we have come to rely on our companion who is no longer there, loneliness and isolation amplifies our vulnerability.  We look for the face that tells us we are loved and it is not there we feel alone and unwanted.  When we listen for the voice that reassures us and it has fallen silent lose too, fall silent.  When we look forward to rushing home to share some good news and find our house empty we know our lives will never be the same.  The death of our companion in life as well as the friends we rely on can leave us isolated and vulnerable. 

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

Grief can also open up wounds of insecurity.  Without hope, our fears are magnified.  When we child dies we lose our hope that they offered for their and our future.  When a brother of sister dies we lose one of the few people who have known us for all or almost all of our lives.  The shared stories no longer remembered out in the world.  They are being lost.  When a mentor or spiritual companion dies we lose their wisdom and feel very alone facing the challenges of life. 

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

The ad about falling sold a little device that you wore around your neck that would signal someone that you needed help.  Similar buttons are found in bank teller counters and by the cash register at convenience stores.  They are also called “panic buttons.”   This personal alarm is intended to let other folks know when you are in trouble so that they can respond and help you get back on your feet.

Unfortunately, we are not always able or willing to press that button.  It may be out of reach.  We may be too embarrassed.  We may not want to bother anyone.  We may spend our time “on the floor” beating ourselves up for being so careless and do not think about the button.  We may be so angry with the situation that we would rather stew that call for help.  Sometimes we just hurt so bad that the button is not even on the radar of possibilities at the moment.  Having a panic button and using it are equally important when we have fallen and can’t get up.

While not every “fall” demands a call to 911, there are times when we need to call for some kind of help.    We need to get a “button” and have it available.  We need to be ready to push it when the need arises.  We must be prepared to acknowledge the insecurity and vulnerability that are already part of our lives.  We must be ready to deal with the embarrassment and other feelings that will arise.   In grief, we need to prepare ourselves for pushing the button by being able to answer the questions “Who do I call?” and “When do I call them?”

Before you find yourselves in grief, I invite you to reframe your expected sadness.  Grief is like following an unknown trail through a shadowed valley.  It has boulders to climb or get around.  There are holes and the footing may be treacherous.  Your eyes may be filled with tears that make every obstacle even more dangerous.  You may feel like you are the only one on the trail.  Your grief is not because you are weak or stupid.  Grief happens to everyone.  And every trail will be different.  Insecurity and vulnerability are part of the trail of grief just like those boulders and slippery rocks.  By acknowledging them in advance we avoid being surprised when they show up while struggling to cope with our grief after losing our footing on the trail.

It is helpful to know when and what kind of help you may need. 

When do I know I need help?

The first indication you may need help is when the pain makes daily living difficult.  Grief will always involve pain.  But not all pain makes a difference in our daily living.  We all have different capacities for dealing with discomfort.  Some folks tolerate it better than others.  The question is “Does my grief interfere with my daily living?”  Does it hurt too much to face my neighbors at the mailboxes or grocery store?  Does it hurt too much to have the energy to cook a meal for myself or clean the house?  Is the pain so bad that all I want to do is sleep, using medications or drugs, if necessary?  Is the pain so unbearable that all I do is sit in my chair and feel empty and useless?  The more your pain prevents you from living your daily life, the greater need you might have for someone to help you up.

A second indication that you may need help is having a higher risk of making things worse by not getting help.  We are prone to making decisions based more on our grief than the reality of our situation,  We may sell the house too soon because we are afraid of the upkeep or payments.  We may be vulnerable to dishonest salespersons or others who prey on the vulnerable.    We may avoid taking care of our health through check-ups or taking our meds.  We may push away our family and friends and become more isolated.  When we find ourselves acting against our best interest due to our grief and increase our vulnerability and insecurity, we will more likely need someone to help us up.

A third indication that we need help is when we do not have the strength in body-mind-soul to get up on our own.  After a fall many people experience a real shock.  Physically their arms and legs do not have the strength to left them.  After a death, many also feel an emotional or mental shock that limits their ability to think or cope with their feelings.  It can also make us more open to infections and other physical ailments as well.  This shock will vary from person to person, situation to situation, and event to event.  In its mildest form it may mean that we just have to go a little slower.  In its most severe form we will become completely incapacitated and have only two choices.  We can lay there in our grief or ask for help.

Needing help is not a yes/no question.  The answer exists along a scale from no to yes with innumerable points along the way.  These points will help us to know both when and who to call for help.  I have reduced the scale to three points for both questions.

When to call?

1.     “I could get up but it really hurts.”  Give yourself some time and see if the pain eases.  If not, move to #2.

2.     “I can try to get up but I risk further injury.”  A little help would allow you to avoid making things worse.

3.     “I don’t have the strength to even try.”  You need help!  Push the button.

Who do I Call?

1.     A friend – They can help you assess and wait while you decide.

2.     A knowledgeable and trusted friend – Someone who knows you well and has been through and understands grief.

3.     A professional – If physical call 911.  If mental or emotional call your doctor and/or a Grief Specialist.

Asking for help in your grief can be embarrassing and even humiliating.  By reframing your “fall” as a natural part of your journey through the shadowed valley of loss, you may find it easier to accept the help of a friend or professional.  Prepare yourself for a difficult time dealing with your grief by knowing when and who to call when you find that you can’t get up.   And when the moment comes, be ready to push that button and call for help.  Not every call will be to 911.  But every call is vital to your well-being. 

When you fall, make the call!

Blessings,

Bob

Public vs. Private Grieving

The San Juans in the Fall of 2017

“There are two types of people in the world: 

those who prefer to be sad among others, 

and those who prefer to be sad alone.”  ~Nicole Krauss

Most folks are beginning to understand that everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time.   We cannot, nor should we tell people how they should feel or how they should grieve.  Our grief flows out of a specific mix or circumstances, personal beliefs, personality traits, and deep-seated needs.  One author has identified over 140 criteria that determine how we respond to losses in our lives.  And I am sure this number is conservative.  Families and friends often find it most difficult to accept two extremes in grieving, the “behind closed doors” griever and the “all too public” griever. 

The Behind Closed Doors Grievers keeps their sadness and grief under close watch.  While in public they maintain a stiff upper lip and deflect any attempt by others to see their hurting.  The All Too Public Griever lets it all hang out in public.  They document every moment on social media and make sure that everyone in the room knows what they are going through.  Both of these grievers make us uncomfortable.  We may be concerned that they are not really grieving and are burying their feelings.  Or, we may feel that they are losing themselves in their grief.

However, people do, in fact, grieve in their own way.  Some of it may depend on whether they are an introvert or an extrovert.  This is not about being shy or wanting to be the center of attention. 

An introvert draws energy from being alone with their thoughts and feelings. They prefer to ponder a problem or difficult situation.  They may read or listen to music or do nothing at all.  They process their feelings and thoughts within themselves.  But they do draw the strength they need to deal with their grief from their solitude. 

The extrovert needs people to find their energy to cope with their grief.  They are not sure about what they are experiencing or feeling until they have shared them with others.  Their inner life can be quite chaotic and unintelligible to themselves until they hear and see it played out in relationship with others.  They talk through their problems with others, listening more keenly to themselves than to their companions.  They can acknowledge their hurt and hope when they have been able to release the burden of their inner turmoil with others.  In short, they process their feelings and thoughts outside of themselves.

For the introvert, we simply need to give them the space they need.  If they know that we are truly available to them in their grief, they will seek us out when they are ready “to go public.”  For the extrovert, we simply need to be there and listen, recognizing that they are not really talking to us.  Respectful listening and acknowledgement of their feelings and ideas is all that is required.  

Companioning the bereaved, regardless of how they grieve, requires respect for the person, deep empathy, and attentive listening.  We are there to walk with them, not show them the way.  The grieving are busy finding themselves and their own way through the jungle of feelings and responsibilities.  They need someone who will be there when they reach out for a hand to hold.  When they do, we can be that companion!  

Blessings,

Bob