Grief Graffiti

I’m still having such a hard time with the guilt & thinking if I had just followed my instinct to fly up to Portland & check on him sooner I could have saved him. And it’s compounded by the guilt of having gone to several parties & events over Super Bowl (it had been about a week since I’d heard from him) at the time. I think that if maybe there had been nothing going on at the time, no commitments, I would have booked a flight sooner. I hate myself that I was so distracted at the time.

“If only” is the game of guilt that plagues many survivors. In cases of unexpected death, the “if only” questions surface intensely. The situation is so “out of control” that our human nature fights and searches for a way to control the uncontrollable. As we yearn to make sense of the senseless, often the only route of control we find is to blame ourselves. “I should have known” or “If only I had talked to him for two minutes longer” or “I shouldn’t have left her bedside” are sentiments that those who grieve may say to themselves. Realize this guilt is a way of trying to gain control over the uncontrollable, and then work to let it go. Each time it enters, remember that this is our longing for control, but don’t give in to the guilt. You cannot change what has happened and odds are you couldn’t have changed it beforehand. No one knows these things are going to happen- no one has that much control or foresight.“

Brook Noel & Pamela D Blair, PHD, “I wasn’t Ready to Say Goodbye”

I’m also angry with myself & the universe that I was in such a “good place” mentally at the time, manifesting & focusing on only positive thoughts, not putting any negative energy “out there”. So when I would get a feeling that something was wrong I chose to eradicate it entirely & only manifest good for him & that he was fine. I was obviously delusional & I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive myself for that.

Knowing he spent days alone in his condo, possibly suffering & in pain, possibly calling out for help in his head, wishing someone would save him, is almost too painful to bear. And knowing he died all alone (aside from his dog, Chico) breaks my heart into a million pieces. I feel I failed as a mother. I protected him his whole life just to let him down in his final moments. How do you live with that?

Most days grief is a quiet, low level feeling. You’re aware of it, but it doesn’t stop you getting on with things. Other days, it’s like a concrete slab lying across your chest. Today is slab day.

-Nicola Whyte