Learning to be happy again

[mbkubitz]

This fall will be four years since my daughter died suddenly. Even though our grief-fearing and pain-avoiding society seems to feel that I should have "moved on" long ago, I still struggle with it daily. Thankfully I have more good days than bad days at this point, but it has taken some time and a lot of grief work along to get here. I know that I have a long road ahead of me still. One of the ways I work through my grief is to write about it. Earlier this year I started contributing to the site Open to Hope (www.opentohope.com). I just submitted an article about how when we lose a child, the idea of smiling or being happy again seems impossible. It is a bit long, but I'm including it here in hopes it might give some others with grief that is new some hope that what they are feeling is normal and will eventually find a way to be happy again.

Learning How to Smile Again

When my daughter died, the pain was so overwhelming, the thought that I could ever feel any ounce of happiness again seemed ridiculous. In those early days of grief, the mere idea of being happy didn’t just feel impossible, it felt wrong.

During the first year after her death, I recall an evening when my husband insisted I sit down with him and our three boys and watch a funny show on TV that we had watched regularly as a family for years. My husband was able to recognize that in the wake of their sister’s death, our boys needed life to return to as “normal” as possible in order for them to cope and feel safe, and that didn’t just mean regular daily routines – it meant a return to the personal interactions with us that they had been used to.

Begrudgingly, I sat down to watch the show. During the show, something was so funny that for the first time since her death, I actually felt the urge to laugh. Instead of laughing, I actually bit the inside of my cheeks to force myself NOT to smile. At that time, the idea that I could ever be happy again felt like a betrayal of my daughter.

The logic (or lack thereof) went something like this: if I allowed myself to be happy, it would mean that I was okay with the fact that she had died. Looking back, I think the self-imposed state of misery served several purposes.

First, it was a matter of basic survival. The pain of losing a child is so overwhelming and so intolerable; many people say they feel numb early on. I think it is similar to the body’s natural defense mechanism of passing out while experiencing physical pain that is completely overwhelming. When the initial numbness started to wear off after about three months after her death, I tried to maintain it by suppressing my emotions. Since I couldn’t pick and choose, that meant trying to suppress ALL emotions, not just the pain and guilt. In reality, this misguided effort only suppressed everything BUT the pain and guilt.

Second, when my daughter died, life as I knew it ended. I was living in a world that suddenly felt alien and intolerable. Not only did I feel like I could never be happy again, I felt outright angry that people around me were happy. To smile, laugh, and have fun again felt like it would mean that there was no longer the possibility that I would wake up from this nightmare I was in. It would mean that I would have to accept that she really did die and life really did go on without her.

In a convoluted way, the pain had become the biggest connection I had to my daughter. I could no longer see her, touch her, hold her, or hear her sweet voice. Family and friends stopped talking about her because it had become too painful for them. The pain of missing her was what kept her present in my thoughts almost every minute of my waking hours. It’s what I talked about at the support groups I went to. Talking about her was painful because she was no longer here, but it meant I was still talking about her and acknowledging the continuing importance of her place in my life and in my heart.

Before my daughter died, I had heard several times the old adage that those who have died wouldn’t want to see their surviving loved ones living in sorrow and misery. I don’t think I fully understood or appreciated what that meant until I was faced with it myself. Sorrow and pain will come no matter what. However, we can unknowingly allow ourselves to get stuck in it because it may feel like the only connection we still have to the loved one we lost.

Over time, the notion of happiness as a betrayal of my daughter faded. At some point, I gave myself permission to smile and to be happy again. I don’t think there was any specific moment I can pinpoint, but instead, it was a slow realization that life was going to go on without her physically here whether I liked it or not. It helped that I still had four other children – one born after she died – and the joy and happiness that they bring into my life is undeniable.

The pain of losing her has not gone away, but it does not occupy as much room as it once did. Just like I have chosen to allow myself to smile and be happy again, I have chosen to focus less on my daughter’s death and more on the happy memories of my daughter’s life. I choose love and happiness, and can’t think of a better way to honor her memory.

[dsmurph]

Thank you so much for sharing this with this group. It is such a gift to me. Losing a child is the worst pain I have ever felt. I do know the importance of my other daughters continuing to live. I try to have moments of happy times for them. It is so hard for me though. My husband is not there yet. I have to admit that I have my days when I cannot find an ounce of happiness. Right now, any of it is for my daughters. I am so greatful to you for sharing your journey of grief. Blessings

[mbkubitz]

That was the way it was for me as well. I followed the saying, "fake it till you make it" and tried to look happy for my surviving kids even when I felt anything but. I just want to let people know that you will feel happiness again, even if you don't believe you will. It just takes time.

[Guest]

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[Mermaid Tears]

To...mbKubitz....thank you for sharing your story...'learning to be happy again'.....the thread of your story needs to be shared....for it is a slippery slope when dealing with the passing of our child...to either become bitter or better....we all meet people that let 'life' become a bitter pill to swallow and those of us that have our other children to care for and set the stage for their future in dealing with tragedy certainly don't want to handicap them with a burden of grief and mourning. That lesson is upon our shoulders to teach them that with time...love...Grace..healing and faith...we can get through the tough times...and come out the other side and walk in the sunshine and turn our face to tomorrow.

[NeverAndAlways]

I smiled to myself as I read (and saw myself in) your logic. Yes! That is almost exactly what I thought and still catch myself thinking sometimes. Like I could not love myself ever again unless I was demonstrably still mourning. Then one day I started giving myself some room to recover from grieving inbetween punishing myself for being alive. The breaks got bigger until one day I noticed there was mostly 'recovery' with shorter breaks to grieve hard. I can't tell where there was a transition...but yes! It was like that! And that struggle was a signficant one among many odd struggles in thinking...I think I will try telling them a joke today and see how that feels...N&A