Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Skiing - end of the holidays
My life has been very busy these past few weeks. But let me start from a few weeks ago. At the end of our Christmas break stood a ski trip with some good friends. Luke had been looking forward to this trip very much while my feelings were more differentiated. After the holidays had been painful and hard but also encouraging for our way through our grief I was still emotionally exhausted. How would I do on a trip with friends where it would be hard to be by myself? It turned out that the skiing, the nature gave me the freedom of nature, the feeling that I could be and move anywhere. When I was going through the trees all by myself (it did work out) I felt like I was in a higher realm of things. While getting physically exhausted I also felt the Befriedigung of doing something for me. There was a sense of exhilaration in the air, I felt more daring than I had ever done. This is something that Iris Bolton, author of the book I quoted a weeks ago, calls a “gift” from the person who left us. I feel like I need to live intensely, breathe life in as much as possible and try to make the most out of every given moment. Often, I fail. However, skiing there on this deserted mountain gave me the feeling like I was being myself again. What a rare feeling.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Outside
Many things happened with me since my brother died. I know I changed. But there is something that is so pressing on me on most days. It is hard to find the right words to explain it. I always liked being outside and in the country. However, now I feel like it is a force inside me driving me outside. Never before did I feel so easily trapped in the city. And yet that is where I live and where I spend most of my time. Since I am working from home I have nowhere to look, no balcony or anything and it drives me nuts. I wanted to move very shortly after Alexander died already for exactly those reasons, I believe I have said so on here before, too. Every time I see nature I just about freak out. My outlet today was looking for a new apartment since I am trapped in this city for at least two more years. And it looks as if there is the possiblity of one a bit further outside, a bit bigger, with a balcony and cheaper than the one we are in right now! I am hoping so much that it is what it promises to be and we could get it. Being closer to nature somehow calms me down so much and I feel as if I am still somehow connected to Alexander. I feel so alone and desperate here for most of my days.
I am so overloaded with work right now that I should not even have written this little bit but I felt as if I needed to share this and it just helps so much to be talking about it.
I am so overloaded with work right now that I should not even have written this little bit but I felt as if I needed to share this and it just helps so much to be talking about it.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Mood Swings
I am still reading all I can find about suicide survivors, their stories and professional help books. In one of them I found the following of which I think helps my husband to deal with me a little easier:
“A persistent component of the process of recovery seems to be the mood swings which persist through the weeks and months of mourning like an endless ride on a rollercoaster. One soars to a euphoric peak on a Sunday and then, within the week, dives into a hellish abyss. […]” (Iris Bolton: My Son… My Son… A Guide to Healing After Death, Loss, or Suicide)
This seems to be a very precise description of how I feel so often. Just wanted to share that, maybe it helps someone else to realize that they are not crazy all of a sudden, either.
“A persistent component of the process of recovery seems to be the mood swings which persist through the weeks and months of mourning like an endless ride on a rollercoaster. One soars to a euphoric peak on a Sunday and then, within the week, dives into a hellish abyss. […]” (Iris Bolton: My Son… My Son… A Guide to Healing After Death, Loss, or Suicide)
This seems to be a very precise description of how I feel so often. Just wanted to share that, maybe it helps someone else to realize that they are not crazy all of a sudden, either.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Eight months without you
Dear Alexander,
it has been eight months since you chose to leave us. I am still having a very hard time trying to understand your decision. I miss you every day, think of you every day and wish I could do something to have you back. I play the scenes of us talking about your problem over and over, trying to see where I went wrong, where I should have done something different to prevent your decision. And then I try to understand that after all it was still your decision. But oh, it is so difficult. I try to accept that you saw no future for yourself but it is so hard to believe. Sometimes I even don’t see how I can get over this pain myself. Do you see how much we are struggling? Do you have bad days in heaven because you worry about us who are struggling with your decision?
Last month was the first holiday season without you. Especially the time right before was difficult, all of us were so caught up in our own feelings and fears. It turned out that we can still work pretty well together and we had a relatively peaceful Christmas, if one can say that. But we missed you. I miss your smile, your laugh, you teasing me, the way you would hug me and smile at me. Oh Alexander, I cannot imagine never seeing all this again. Why, oh why? How could you not see a light at the end of the tunnel? You could have made it, if anyone, then you. It is so hard, so impossible for me to understand that you had no way of seeing beyond your pain anymore. You did not seem to be so much under pain. It is so hard to believe that you just did an amazing job of covering up how bad you really felt inside. I know that you tried to tell us but we did not listen well enough. I am sorry that I was unable to read the signs, that I was not educated enough to help you. I wish I could turn back time.
My dear brother, it is so strange without you, so much has changed these past eight months. Can you see how much father has changed? I believe that he turned into a person you would have loved to have as a father. Do you see how much mother suffers? Do you feel guilty for that? Do you see how she does not have time for our little sisters, time that she would have had otherwise? Do you see how they are both struggling with school and their immense grief for you? Do you try to help them? I feel like I need to help them all and it is overwhelming. I am so tired of doing it all in addition to my work which is enough anyway. And yet I can’t stop because I am so scared, so incredibly scared that I miss the signs of someone else suffering, someone else needing my help and I am not there in the right moment. But I am so tired, so exhausted. I miss you so much. I always knew you were still there to help our sisters with whatever problems they had when I did not find the time or was busy or whatever. Now there are still the two other brothers but it is not the same. I wish you would answer me some time and give some answers to my many questions. But even more than that I want to see you happy again, laughing, joking and with all that love in your eyes. There are no words to describe how much I miss you.
I love you, little big brother.
Forever, Carola
it has been eight months since you chose to leave us. I am still having a very hard time trying to understand your decision. I miss you every day, think of you every day and wish I could do something to have you back. I play the scenes of us talking about your problem over and over, trying to see where I went wrong, where I should have done something different to prevent your decision. And then I try to understand that after all it was still your decision. But oh, it is so difficult. I try to accept that you saw no future for yourself but it is so hard to believe. Sometimes I even don’t see how I can get over this pain myself. Do you see how much we are struggling? Do you have bad days in heaven because you worry about us who are struggling with your decision?
Last month was the first holiday season without you. Especially the time right before was difficult, all of us were so caught up in our own feelings and fears. It turned out that we can still work pretty well together and we had a relatively peaceful Christmas, if one can say that. But we missed you. I miss your smile, your laugh, you teasing me, the way you would hug me and smile at me. Oh Alexander, I cannot imagine never seeing all this again. Why, oh why? How could you not see a light at the end of the tunnel? You could have made it, if anyone, then you. It is so hard, so impossible for me to understand that you had no way of seeing beyond your pain anymore. You did not seem to be so much under pain. It is so hard to believe that you just did an amazing job of covering up how bad you really felt inside. I know that you tried to tell us but we did not listen well enough. I am sorry that I was unable to read the signs, that I was not educated enough to help you. I wish I could turn back time.
My dear brother, it is so strange without you, so much has changed these past eight months. Can you see how much father has changed? I believe that he turned into a person you would have loved to have as a father. Do you see how much mother suffers? Do you feel guilty for that? Do you see how she does not have time for our little sisters, time that she would have had otherwise? Do you see how they are both struggling with school and their immense grief for you? Do you try to help them? I feel like I need to help them all and it is overwhelming. I am so tired of doing it all in addition to my work which is enough anyway. And yet I can’t stop because I am so scared, so incredibly scared that I miss the signs of someone else suffering, someone else needing my help and I am not there in the right moment. But I am so tired, so exhausted. I miss you so much. I always knew you were still there to help our sisters with whatever problems they had when I did not find the time or was busy or whatever. Now there are still the two other brothers but it is not the same. I wish you would answer me some time and give some answers to my many questions. But even more than that I want to see you happy again, laughing, joking and with all that love in your eyes. There are no words to describe how much I miss you.
I love you, little big brother.
Forever, Carola
Thursday, December 31, 2009
New Years Eve
This year is coming to a close and it is so strange. At some points I thought I would never get through this year. It has changed me more profoundly than I would have ever imagined a single year could change me.
My aunt called me today and we chatted for a while. She then went on to wish me a good new year and I agreed, saying that I hoped the new year would be a much better one than the last. She answered that the last one was not all bad and that we learned so much about us and other people than we would have ever imagined possible. I agree but I still think that the last year was not a good one. There were good moments, for sure. But a good year? Never, not the last one. It made me angry that she could not see my point but felt like she had to lecture me to see the good sides in Alexander’s death. I don’t think that I am someone who does not see that something did come out of his death, there is some kind of legacy that he passed on. That is true. But knowing this does not make the last year a good one. I am disappointed that she could not simply join me in grief. At least we connected in the hope for a better new year.
I really hope that this next year will be better. I wish I could say it could not be worse but this last year also taught me that it always can be. Life cannot be planned. So I am hoping and praying.
My aunt called me today and we chatted for a while. She then went on to wish me a good new year and I agreed, saying that I hoped the new year would be a much better one than the last. She answered that the last one was not all bad and that we learned so much about us and other people than we would have ever imagined possible. I agree but I still think that the last year was not a good one. There were good moments, for sure. But a good year? Never, not the last one. It made me angry that she could not see my point but felt like she had to lecture me to see the good sides in Alexander’s death. I don’t think that I am someone who does not see that something did come out of his death, there is some kind of legacy that he passed on. That is true. But knowing this does not make the last year a good one. I am disappointed that she could not simply join me in grief. At least we connected in the hope for a better new year.
I really hope that this next year will be better. I wish I could say it could not be worse but this last year also taught me that it always can be. Life cannot be planned. So I am hoping and praying.
First Christmas without Alexander
I was very anxious about Christmas, as was everyone in my family. I have rarely felt that much tension among us and yet not directed against anyone. And then it still turned out to be halfway nice if I can say that.
Luke and I came to my parent’s house on Christmas eve. We had planned to attend church that afternoon at 4.30 pm, so there was a little chatting before we had to get changed and ready for the service. My sister Sophie was sick so she stayed home for the service. All of us were waiting in the hallway for Dorothée to get ready. Finally I went upstairs to find her in tears saying that she did not want to come along. She had had a fight with Sophie again and was scared of everyone at church seeing that she had cried. Thankfully I could convince her to come along but it was so awful to feel this tension between all of us! This little problem made us late for church; we entered just on time into a completely packed church, only standing room left. It was a nice service, the priest mentioned the grieving and sad people around this supposedly joyful time, too, which really helped all of us, especially my mum. We sang a lot during the service, something we had always done at home. When Silent Night was sung it gave me a weird feeling since I never really liked that song but Alexander really loved it. After the service we picked Sophie up and went to the cemetery. It was dark but there were so many candles light on the graves in the snow that it had a very peaceful atmosphere around it. Some people had put up little Christmas trees on their graves and on almost every single on of them were candles lit. My mum had a branch of our Christmas tree cut of with a few ornaments on and a candle that we put on Alexander’s and my grandpa’s grave. It was the first time that all of us were together at the grave again since the funeral. There were very sad moments but it was also very comforting to have the support of the family. We are really trying hard to be there for each other. After a prayer we headed home again, hoping, that we could leave some of the anxiety and tension at the gravesite.
I had been talking with my therapist that it might be helpful for me and my family if I took some of the cooking over around the holidays. My mum usually does the cooking but does not enjoy it all too much. I love to cook but not at home where I don’t feel like I can control the process. Now the plan was that I just preplanned everything and then both my mum and me would be more relaxed knowing that the cooking would be taken care of. It really worked, and on Christmas eve me and my siblings all worked together to get some sauces fixed for the fondue meal we had planned. It turned out to be a nice, peaceful and, as Sophie or Dorothée put it, very grown up meal. First we went into the living room where they had the Christmas tree and heard the Christmas story read by my dad, sung a song and then went over to have the meal. After eating for a couple of hours we thought it would be nice to open some presents, which we did in a relaxed way. Instead of two people opening all their gifts at the same time we took turns after one gift this time. Everything was a bit different but it still felt alright since there was no pressure to do something the ‘right’ way. Around midnight we then settled with a glass of wine around the table, reliving the night and relaxing some more. I think all of us found this Christmas to be in the end almost more peaceful and harmonic than the previous one (Alexander had caused a very tense atmosphere then).
Even though this was a bit longer I felt like I needed to share this, also to remind me of it in the future.
Luke and I came to my parent’s house on Christmas eve. We had planned to attend church that afternoon at 4.30 pm, so there was a little chatting before we had to get changed and ready for the service. My sister Sophie was sick so she stayed home for the service. All of us were waiting in the hallway for Dorothée to get ready. Finally I went upstairs to find her in tears saying that she did not want to come along. She had had a fight with Sophie again and was scared of everyone at church seeing that she had cried. Thankfully I could convince her to come along but it was so awful to feel this tension between all of us! This little problem made us late for church; we entered just on time into a completely packed church, only standing room left. It was a nice service, the priest mentioned the grieving and sad people around this supposedly joyful time, too, which really helped all of us, especially my mum. We sang a lot during the service, something we had always done at home. When Silent Night was sung it gave me a weird feeling since I never really liked that song but Alexander really loved it. After the service we picked Sophie up and went to the cemetery. It was dark but there were so many candles light on the graves in the snow that it had a very peaceful atmosphere around it. Some people had put up little Christmas trees on their graves and on almost every single on of them were candles lit. My mum had a branch of our Christmas tree cut of with a few ornaments on and a candle that we put on Alexander’s and my grandpa’s grave. It was the first time that all of us were together at the grave again since the funeral. There were very sad moments but it was also very comforting to have the support of the family. We are really trying hard to be there for each other. After a prayer we headed home again, hoping, that we could leave some of the anxiety and tension at the gravesite.
I had been talking with my therapist that it might be helpful for me and my family if I took some of the cooking over around the holidays. My mum usually does the cooking but does not enjoy it all too much. I love to cook but not at home where I don’t feel like I can control the process. Now the plan was that I just preplanned everything and then both my mum and me would be more relaxed knowing that the cooking would be taken care of. It really worked, and on Christmas eve me and my siblings all worked together to get some sauces fixed for the fondue meal we had planned. It turned out to be a nice, peaceful and, as Sophie or Dorothée put it, very grown up meal. First we went into the living room where they had the Christmas tree and heard the Christmas story read by my dad, sung a song and then went over to have the meal. After eating for a couple of hours we thought it would be nice to open some presents, which we did in a relaxed way. Instead of two people opening all their gifts at the same time we took turns after one gift this time. Everything was a bit different but it still felt alright since there was no pressure to do something the ‘right’ way. Around midnight we then settled with a glass of wine around the table, reliving the night and relaxing some more. I think all of us found this Christmas to be in the end almost more peaceful and harmonic than the previous one (Alexander had caused a very tense atmosphere then).
Even though this was a bit longer I felt like I needed to share this, also to remind me of it in the future.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Only a few more days till christmas
Almost Christmas. This December was different for me. Normally, I plan at least some of my gifts fairly early but still have most not ready in the beginning of December. This year I was in denial that Christmas was anywhere near since the stores brought up their Christmas decoration, so since September. Then in December I had a hard time denying it any further. So I somehow thought now it is just around the corner. Beginning or end of December, it was all the same. And so I rushed through my list of presents to buy, hurried to have enough Christmas treats and had too much alcohol in general (I think it was a doomed to fail attempt to forget that it was really the season…). Anyway, now it is here. I am almost completely done with my presents, the two persons I have left (my dad and an aunt) will get done today, latest tomorrow. The last few days before Christmas eve I will be baking cookies, a tradition that I did not want to continue this year but then I could not pass this once a year opportunity to smother everyone, whether they want it or not, in my cookies. And as written previously cooking or even more so baking calms me down, is almost a yoga-type state for me. This especially sets in when I do the decorations of the single cookies. They have to be perfect and it just absorbs me so much that I forget the world around me completely.
So, what does this all have to do with Alexander? Not much, I guess. Just this feeling of uneasiness around Christmas is new. I loved the season, I loved our traditions or even experiencing something new with Luke’s family when we were over there. But now I look forward to being with the family but dread it at the same time. So many things will be different this year, in a way more the way that Alexander always wanted them to be. Normally there is much focus Christmas eve on the feeling of being together and the presents. Coming from such a big family I guess it sort of just happens that the presents get that focus since it simply takes time until all of them are unwrapped. Alexander always wanted us to remember the true reason for celebrating Christmas, the birth of Jesus. I never really noticed this focus on presents until this years so I had a hard time understanding what he meant. I simply loved my childhood Christmases. Now this year we are planning to have a long dinner (fondue) and then will only unwrap one present each, the rest will be opened Christmas day.
Why am I so uneasy with this thought? Why am I having the same concentration problems I got so used to but thought was halfway done with? Why am I not looking forward to being with my family? I think it is something that we will especially notice how much he is missing. And it will be a tiny bit more real than it was before. I dread these moments of realizing the magnitude of Alexander’s decision. I am scared of arguments, disappointments, and misunderstandings among us. We will still be eight people together, all of us mourning for the same person and yet all of us individually. Misunderstandings are so very likely. I feel responsible for making sure that this will not happen and get scared since I am not confident in my ability to stop every single argument. I hope Alexander will somehow be with us and help all of us to get through those tough days without being angry at each other.
So, what does this all have to do with Alexander? Not much, I guess. Just this feeling of uneasiness around Christmas is new. I loved the season, I loved our traditions or even experiencing something new with Luke’s family when we were over there. But now I look forward to being with the family but dread it at the same time. So many things will be different this year, in a way more the way that Alexander always wanted them to be. Normally there is much focus Christmas eve on the feeling of being together and the presents. Coming from such a big family I guess it sort of just happens that the presents get that focus since it simply takes time until all of them are unwrapped. Alexander always wanted us to remember the true reason for celebrating Christmas, the birth of Jesus. I never really noticed this focus on presents until this years so I had a hard time understanding what he meant. I simply loved my childhood Christmases. Now this year we are planning to have a long dinner (fondue) and then will only unwrap one present each, the rest will be opened Christmas day.
Why am I so uneasy with this thought? Why am I having the same concentration problems I got so used to but thought was halfway done with? Why am I not looking forward to being with my family? I think it is something that we will especially notice how much he is missing. And it will be a tiny bit more real than it was before. I dread these moments of realizing the magnitude of Alexander’s decision. I am scared of arguments, disappointments, and misunderstandings among us. We will still be eight people together, all of us mourning for the same person and yet all of us individually. Misunderstandings are so very likely. I feel responsible for making sure that this will not happen and get scared since I am not confident in my ability to stop every single argument. I hope Alexander will somehow be with us and help all of us to get through those tough days without being angry at each other.
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