Irritations And Emotional Triggers

A piece of me died on the 8^th April 2010.

The thought never left my mind- “he’s dead”.

It’s a strange thing, to be sitting down, amongst friends enjoying a cup of coffee at a café, and seeing life go on. Seeing them laugh and chat, talk about their husbands/partners and all other ‘normal’ topics of conversation. A small part of me genuinely cared for their stories. The larger part of me wanted to tell them to shut up, get over it, and be grateful for what they had.

A majority of my friends were incredibly mindful of those sorts of things. They knew that I still cared about their relationships, but they knew I had a very low tolerance to some certain topics. Long story short, if my friends had said that they miss their spouse after not seeing them for a night or two while they were away for work, this would upset me.

Were they honestly that inconsiderate to tell me that they ‘miss’ their partner? For one night? They’re upset because their partner is taking too long to reply to a text message? Seriously… For  a second… think about how that makes me feel.

A few caught on to what was a wanted conversation and what was not- some would start telling me a story, and then they’d realise where it was going, and quickly change the topic. I could not help the way I was reacting to certain things. My reactions were automatic, and in most cases, were unable to be filtered. In simpler terms, I could be talking one minute, and hear a simple word or sentence that would trigger me to get upset, and then I’d lose it. I never had enough time to compose myself in the early stages, but it improved over time.

Apart from conversations about how people’s partners were, the other thing that was annoying for me was seeing it. Walking in to someone’s home, and seeing happy wedding photos, or seeing hand written notes stuck on the fridge from one another.

It was the visual things that were worse. I avoided social gatherings for quite some time, as it hurt too much to see everyone together, and even though I was assured that If I went with some friends, “I’d be fine”… No. I didn’t care for it. I didn’t want people coming up to me and putting a hand on my shoulder, and giving me a hug and saying “I’m so sorry”. No. I didn’t want to feel uncomfortable, and I didn’t want other people to feel uncomfortable about me being there and not knowing what to say. So, I avoided many things. I decided to ultimately remove myself from the situation.

Little things like going to shopping centres were the same. I’d see couples walking hand in hand through the mall… Seeing a middle aged couple with children, and wondering what could have been… Seeing elderly couples enjoying a quiet coffee, and holding hands across the table. I remember having about 2 sips of a coffee at a café once, before I just got up and left because there were just too many happy couples there.

I was aware that people weren’t purposely rubbing things in my face, but it sure did feel like it sometimes. This was depending on the kind of day I was having… some days were worse than others.

There are so many triggers that can happen on a day to day basis. It was only after I sat down and actually thought it about, they certainly were everywhere…

It was walking behind someone with his hair, his height and his build.

It was seeing someone in the distance that smiled just like he did.

It was hearing someone laugh, laughing just like he did.

It was catching the scent of the cologne he use to wear as someone walked by.

It was hearing his favourite song on the radio… then seeing an empty passenger seat.

It was seeing someone walk past wearing the same shirt he wore on your first date.

It was seeing something in a shop that I knew he’d love.

It was remembering a funny story, and wanting to tell him because I knew he’d laugh.

People always tell me to remember the good times. That’s the most painful bit.

Remembering how happy you actually were.

Things that people will say

After losing a loved one, people often try and provide comfort with their wise words. Some, better than others. These are a few of the common examples that were repeated to me often.

“I’m sorry”
It’s a cliché thing to say, and I’ve often said it myself- when you don’t know what to say, this is usually a safe option when other words fail. I believe it’s said because you’re genuinely sorry for that person’s loss, and for the person who has passed away.

“You’re so strong”
This is something that annoyed me as it was said so often. I was very good at hiding my tears, and putting on a brave face when I needed to. I was strong for those who needed to see it, and I could be an emotional wreck behind closed doors. Over time, I learnt to look at it from another angle- I dealt with my grief drug free, and provided myself with positive outlets to keep my mind stimulated and focused on good things.

“He’s in a better place now”
I understand that it’s another thing that’s said. Without dragging religion into this, people have different views on where people end up after they leave this world. I think everybody takes comfort in knowing that their loved ones are looking down on us from a greater place. Speaking from my own experience, I would often respond with “yeah…”. But it’s not something I dealt with lightly. The point was still that they’re not here on Earth, with you, with their family, enjoying their life, and having the opportunity to grow old.

“He’s not suffering”
Granted that this is said to the family who have had to watch their loved ones battle illness over long periods of time, I can understand why this is said, but it’s still not anything that I can just say “yeah, you’re right, I feel better now, thanks!”. It could just be in my cynical nature to automatically find the downside of every comment ever made…

“I know how you feel”
This is one of the blue ribbon winners when it comes down to “the worst thing you can say to someone who just lost their partner”. “I know how you feel”. This was said to me on a number of occasions, and I had to fight very hard to resist the urge to punch people in the face when they said this to me. With the exception of the few people that said this to me, who were actually widows. Unless you’re a widow, please don’t say this to someone. The same thing can be said for any loss- Unless it’s literally the same loss, losing the person same way, just remember, you don’t know it feels.

The Other F Word. (part one)

“A ceremony or group of ceremonies held in connection with the burial or cremation of a dead person”

 

Funeral.

 

It’s a shame that the first three letters of this word have absolutely nothing to do with the actual meaning.

 

The funeral Director told us that we could go inside whenever we decided that we were ready. We stood outside torturing ourselves with idle chat for a few minutes trying to post pone what was ahead. After a few moments, we made our way into the chapel. We all knew what was going to be in there…

I let his parents and his brother make their way up first, while I gathered my thoughts for a few seconds. I looked down at the little blue box that I was holding in my trembling hands- my last gift to him. A baby blue box, tied neatly with a blue and white ribbon. Inside  were some things that I so badly wanted him to have. I made sure that every little thing in that box was something he’d hold dear to his heart. I filled it with things that I knew would make him laugh and smile. I also placed a letter in there that I had been writing over the past few days- I wanted it to be perfect… I would have ripped out my own heart and put it in that box if I could have…

I walked up the step, carrying that little blue box, and stood next to his brother. It took me a long time to look at what was right in front of me. I remember looking above the coffin and just seeing what was below, in my peripheral vision. I knew what it was. But still, I chose to ignore it for as long as I could.

 

His father knew what I was doing, and he came and stood next to me. With his arm around me, he said “you have to pull yourself together”. I looked up at him, and then my eyes followed his…  then I saw what he was looking at. His eldest son. My boyfriend. Lifeless. Dead.

 

Without even thinking about it, my body automatically went into meltdown. I could feel my heart throbbing. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I could feel myself running short of breath. I looked up at his father one more time and tried my best to mutter out one simple word. I couldn’t do it. I tried to form a word. Just one word. Nothing. All that came out was a blood curdling howl. In my entire life- I had never… ever cried and screamed as much as I did at this moment. There were no words to describe how uncontrollable it was.

 

I was so shocked with my reaction that I immediately walked out. I quickly stumbled outside, where I sat on the ground, placing the little blue box beside me. I put my hands over my mouth to stop myself from screaming, and it took every ounce of my will to make me stop. I had to remind myself to breathe. I thought about how hard it must be for his parents and his brother, and I knew that I had to pull myself together and get back in there. After a few minutes, I dusted myself off and made my way back inside… I stood next to his father once again, where I muttered out a “sorry”. I felt so bad for reacting that way, but I couldn’t control it… I think he understood.

 

I composed myself after a while, and took a few deep breaths. I held that little blue box in my hands one last time before I placed it in the coffin beside him. I loosened the ribbon a little once I’d placed it by his side, so it would be easier for him to open. Sounds stupid, I know… I knew he wasn’t going to physically be able to open it.

 

We stood there in silence for a few minutes until we could hear the cars pull up outside. We heard people’s muffled voices as they walked across the gravel, making their way towards the chapel. We took that as our cue to leave for the moment, so we stepped away from the coffin, one at a time, and told him that we’d be back soon…