Perspective is an authentic aspect of our existence. Perspective can be altered by the environment or experiences. We may work to change our perspective if we want to. Regardless, the only true view that we really ever have is our own; no matter how empathetic or sympathetic we try to be.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately within the context of a mental health worker. People come to me with various problems and my empathetic sponge is at their disposal. I absorb pain and hurt from many people around me. I can’t tell them how to fix their problems. I can’t feel sorry for them. I can empower them to help themselves.
My perspective is one of a mother that lost her baby boy, an infertile woman, someone who has struggled with depression and anxiety, suicide ideations, experienced sexual and verbal abuse, someone who has had both good times and bad and someone who has had a hard time seeing those good times all too often.
Everyone carries some kind of battle(s) with them. Many of these closet skeletons will never show their face. Some of them may never go into the closet. Perhaps, some carry their skeletons on their back.
Grieving the loss of a loved one, a child, a parent, a sibling, comes with a context and a perspective. It is very personal. The audience that this blog is designed for knows this all too well. We will always grieve for our children. Our perspective may change a little but over time. We may one day wake up and see the light, others, we don’t want to wake up at all.
People who have never suffered a great loss in their life have absolutely no perspective on this. They have no business telling grievers about the timeliness and the processes. There are quotes upon quotes from philosophers, mental health workers and grievers stating essentially that grief is love. It would benefit the harsh culture that we are surrounded by to think about this for just a minute.
Grief is love.
If a woman was bragging about her living child, would you tell her she needed to just get over the kid? Then why are you telling a mother that is talking about her deceased child to move on? If someone was telling you something great about his living mother, would you tell them they needed to stop talking about her? Then why are you telling this person that they need to buck up and get over the death of their mother? Why is it so hard to let people just be sad without placing them on timelines?
The discomfort of the outsiders is not the grievers’ responsibility! Please know this. Don’t let them bully you. You do what you need to do; even if this means getting up out of bed, miraculously making it to work and coming home to play video games. That is what you need right now. That is OK. You are not doing it wrong.
Everything that I have done since the conception, death and birth of my son has been because of him. That is an unchangeable piece of my—our story. I will never get over him. I will never move on. I will always move with my boy even if I lose people along the way. That is their problem, not mine.
They knew they wanted more children and have since suffered many early miscarriages during the process of multiple IVF and IUI cycles which have left them with broken hearts.Feeling defeated and alone, the bereaved parents moved to Connecticut in search of a much needed new start.
Amber was inspired to work towards becoming a therapist during her process of trying to find support after her loss. She is currently a freelance graphic designer, artist and marriage and family therapy graduate student. She takes comfort in the idea that their son was a driving force for her to help other people through a time that she and her husband felt so alone.
- On Being Too Sad To Support Me In Celebrating My Son. - April 9, 2018
- Therapeutic Endeavors III: The Letter - January 26, 2018
- Therapeutic Endeavors Part II - January 24, 2018