Like the Titan Atlas, some try and carry the burden of their grief on their own shoulders. More often than not, with catastrophic results.
Last night was the start of our winter session in Life After Loss. There were some familiar faces who sat at my table, and some new ones. In particular, one person who sat right next to me touched me to the point of my eyes glassing over. My heart absolutely broke for him when he talked about the end of his marriage and described how he’s spent the last 2 years broken, continuously punishing himself. Blaming himself, as if he should have done more to save it.
But why did my heart break? Because I could relate to him. Everything was blamed on him. Even when it was clearly her, she spun it to always make it his fault. Their lives were something to envy in the public eye, but behind closed doors she was anything but. He never knew when to expect her to fly off the handle; and yet, out of no where she could be touching, only to smash him a second later, yet again. He missed her greatly, willing to do anything to see her smile one more time, rationalizing the pain she put him through for over 7 years. He carries the guilt of what the experience is doing to their three children, because he came from a broken family and remembered what it did to him.
A Man who walks with his heart on his sleeve, and only ever wants to see the good in others and be happy. Yet has gone through his life being abused and taken advantage of.
Like Atlas, carrying the weight of the failures in his heart to the point of being lost, lonely, and destroyed. Those who read my blog last season know of my ability to recall, and this was something that just kicked me right back down the rabbit hole of my own depression. Recalling how in the not so distant past, I was that man, telling his own tale of abuse, the same tears, the same silence at the table. Just that this time, I’m armed with the knowledge and the skills to understand how I hurt; using my reflexes to catch myself before I tumble down the rabbit hole. Still staring into it as I listen to him, but still able to pull myself back up after.
Viewed as a journey, your grief can be a vehicle that frees you of the shackles of your burden of loss.
The latter are the ones who are just heading to a destination. Those are the ones who get irritated at traffic, and at every yellow light they fail to get through. Those are the ones who’s conversations in the car are always about how irritated they are at everyone else; thinking of themselves.
The former are those who are enjoying the view along the way. They don’t care how long it takes; heck.. they take the scenic route. Conversations are light, and about stimulating topics. When they arrive at their destination, everyone is relaxed, enlightened, and in good spirits.
The grief journey is no different. You can sit there and rush from day to day, ignoring the festering wound that is never getting any better. Or stop, face it, work through the journey of grief with various stops along the way, and get to the end a better person. Though it’s unnatural to consider pain your friend, the pain is simply signalling your soul that something is wrong. “I’m broken, please help me!” When you cut yourself, you don’t just sit there, bleeding. You address it and care for that wound. Your heart and soul need the same care. “Getting it out”, talking about it or writing about it is a great way to start to clean the wound in your heart and soul.
There’s a good verse in scripture very metaphoric to the Atlas reference above.
Isaiah 41:10 - Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not Anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
Let the Lord carry the weight of you burden. When you set the world at his feet and give it to him, you’ll find peace with Him at your side.
Blessings,
-Jorge