What Helps Me Cope

Someone on a message board asked me recently what I've done to ease the pain...mostly, these are the things that have helped me:

1) Believing that she did not cease to exist; she simply moved on to a different world/dimension. Yes, it hurts because she is not here in this world with me anymore. But she is not gone. She sees me, and the bond we have could never just disappear. I don't believe that this world is all there is...and I do believe there is a God who loves us tremendously even though things we go through in this life do not seem fair. We are here to learn certain things, often very painful things...life is a series of lessons...and through each experience, we learn and hopefully allow it to strengthen us. I've really been trying to focus lately on the fact that, cold as it seems to say this way, death is a part of life and it is what it is...I can't change it no matter how unfair it seems. So I have to try and accept the fact that we are separated to an extent right now but will not be that way forever. It's not my turn to be there yet, and I will not cut my life short to make it happen. How sad that would make her if I did. I also try to focus on the fact that now she can see me all the time, wherever I am, so she can watch out for me even more than she was able to when she was alive...she always worried about me, so I know she likes that.

2) Remembering that she wants me to be happy and live a fulfilled life. She isn't going to be insulted if I start living my life and focusing on other things; she will be glad because she is my mother and she wants what's best for me. I refuse to just lay down and give up, even when the pain threatens to overtake me, which it still does sometimes. I made a conscious decision to live my life the best I can. Period. I will not simply survive this life. I will get all that I can out of it. Part of that is to honor her but also to honor myself and to fulfill my purposes for being here. That doesn't mean I don't still sob sometimes and wonder how in the world I'm supposed to go the rest of my life without her here...I try to be realistic in my expectations and understand that now and then there are going to be emotion triggers and very, very bad days where I hurt so bad I can't even see straight. But there's still that thing deep inside my soul that whispers, "You will come out on the other side of this pain again." I refuse to attempt to numb myself through sleep, drugs, alcohol, workingtoo much, or busy-ness. The only way to get through this is to face it head on. I will feel what I need to feel and not stifle the emotion and grief. I will not use things or people simply to distract me from the pain. I will find the balance between doing a healthy amount of activity and work to keep me productive and doing so much of it that I find that maybe I distracted myself but also wasted my life away in a blur of busy-ness.

3) Talking, talking, talking. I talk through my journal, through these groups, to the members of my support groups, to my friends and family, out loud to my mom and God. To keep it bottled up inside will only slow down the process, and it's gonna eventually come out again one day anyhow, probably in a very drastic way. People think they are ignoring the reality of what's happened by not saying it out loud or allowing themselves to even accept that it happened. But by not talking about it with people who can relate, it alienates you and makes you bear the weight alone when you don't have to. I suppose there is a balance between not talking enough and talking about it too much to the point where it's all you focus on. The point of talking it through is to help get you to the point where it's not all-consuming anymore and to have others to go to for support. Simply knowing there are "others like you" is a comfort in and of itself, and when you gather together, it strengthens you.

4) Finding comfort in the simple things in life that remind me there's still good and hope in the world - spending time with my pets, friends, and family; doing hobbies that make me feel good about myself; working toward my goals; birds singing; good-tasting food (though trying not to see food as a comfort but as something my body needs and an enjoyment I can appreciate, which I know is hard); and seeing people helping people, which brings me to my next one.

5) Trying to reach out to others who are going through it. Trying to help others feel their way through this also helps me. When you make a conscious effort to help other people, it shifts the focus away from your own consuming problems and fears and gets you outside of your bubble. Through observing others, you can decide how you want to get through this and what you DON'T want to do. It's hard to be objective about yourself; it helps to see outside your own world and to try and alleviate some of the pain others are feeling. It gives both of you hope and gives some purposeto the loss so that it doesn't seem quite as in vain. At the same time, there's that balance again...if you immerse yourself completely in nothing but connecting with others in the same boat, you run the risk of stunting your progress because it's still all you're thinking about. There are many other ways to help people in other situations...there is a huge lack of hope in this world, and trying to help others see it helps both of you and keeps you aware of the big picture.

6) Exercising. It's so well-known that it helps you not only physically but mentally and emotionally. I started exercising a few months after my mom passed because I couldn't seem to stay awake anymore; all I wanted to do was sleep. I've been exercising at least three times a week since then, and when I miss it, I'm more likely to start feeling really bad overall. There is healing power in that seratonin your brain releases when you exercise. If you also feel you might need medicine from your doctor to boost that seratonin, it's not a weakness; I know from experience that it can be a miracle. But it's not a substitute for all the other things I've mentioned.

I hope I don't sound like it just comes easy to me; it doesn't, and I have to work at it. But I choose to.