Loss

Someone recently asked me if I had ever taken time to acknowledge the loss in my life. I thought it was kind of an odd question. She went on to say that she thought I needed to think about really acknowledging the losses that I have experienced and to be prepared to ‘sit’ with the feelings.

I started thinking about what she was referring to. Whenever I have encountered a so-called loss, I have always been quick to counter-balance that loss with a statement to the effect that ‘everyone has something they deal with’ and then I try to bury the emotion. Acknowledgment of my loss is rarely part of my vernacular. Why? Is it because I feel it is a luxury? Is it because as a child my parents repeatedly told me I was tough and able to handle everything (they pretty much let me fend for myself), so much so that I felt it was a failure if I revealed that maybe I was affected by things? Or is it because if I do take the time to acknowledge the losses I have experienced I might be crushed by the weight of emotion? I’m not sure. But, I do think that I need to try to sort thru some of the loss and try to ‘sit’ with the resulting feelings.

First, I need to summarize the losses. There are the obvious ones: deaths of close family members–grandparents who I loved, and my father. There have been loss of friendships. Loss of ability to have close relationships with family members. Loss of selfish choice (bear with me on that one). Probably the biggest loss involves my youngest and her struggle with mental health issues. That seems to be the hardest one to acknowledge.

For now, I think I will concentrate on loss of friendships. This is never easy. Being someone who loves to love people and share openly, these losses have the potential to inflict deep wounds. As an adult, I have experienced loss of friendship more than once. Some have just been the kind of loss that is subtle–we used to spend a lot of time with so and so, but now they don’t seem to ever call. Others have been more pronounced, almost a kind of divorce. I have had this happen a few times. Each time it happened when I was in the midst of what I would refer to as a ‘dark period’. In the interest of full disclosure, as an adult I have gone thru a few episodes of severe depression, the kind where you hit a wall and it knocks you flat. The kind where you lose interest in everything. The kind where you feel overwhelmed by the simplest of tasks. It was during each of these black times that I suddenly found myself in the midst of an intersection with a close friend and confidant. While trying to keep from being run over, they tell me that they can no longer have contact with me. Reasons given varied, but for this written exercise, reasons given don’t matter. I can say that each time has been more difficult than the time before. Each time made me feel worthless and unlovable and worse yet, as someone that must be so damaged and completely unredeemable that to have contact with me is poison to them. I am left with a lot of ‘why?’ questions. I am left with no one to ask for explanation. I am left with a resolve that I’ve completely screwed up and am not worthy of friendship. I am left without the person who I thought I could be honest with, without the fear of judgment. During these times, while the logical part of me knows that there are others that still love me and consider me a valued friend, it’s the one that has been lost that seems to outweigh everything else. Sometimes that weight can be suffocating.

I think I will take another day to sit with the other losses. This one seems to be enough for me for today.