Nighty Night?

The change in seasons has been taking me for a bit of a roller coaster ride lately and I am ready to get off.

I can't quite put my finger on what is bringing about all of these conflicting feelings but I am determined not to let them get the best of me.  Some of it, I think, has to do with the sun beginning to set earlier now but I think the other factors may be a prolonged lack of sleep and a lot of family stuff rolling around in my brain.  I know I am tired and I am ready to fall asleep but I don't always stay asleep.

 

Maybe this has happened to you and then you know how frustrating it is to look at your bedside clock, close your eyes and pray for sleep to come and send you to a restful place.  And then it doesn't happen.

 

Did you know that over 20% of Americans may suffer from chronic sleep loss or untreated sleep disorders?  Amazing right?  It seems so simple: it's night time, you're tired, lay down on the bed, close your eyes and off to sleep.  Not.

Sleep is one of those things that I take for granted until I can't do it.  I would love to sleep in like I used to when I was in college.  Now that was really sleeping!  I could sleep until noon or one o'clock with no problems at all and wake up totally refreshed.  Plus I never felt guilty if I slept half of the day away.

Now it seems as if I need some kind of nuclear fairy dust to get me to go into a deep sleep.

 

I made some progress last night in catching up on some of my lost sleep, forcing myself to turn off the television around 9 pm and get ready for bed by reading.  These small changes might be the trick to turning the whole sleep thing around.  I'll have to wait and see. 

In some ways this inability to sleep reminds me of the period of time after my husband died and I would only sleep for a few hours a night.  Trouble with sleeping is normal when you are grieving or handling a stressful event in your life; especially when your grief is new.  Grief may cause anxious and depressed feelings which can then cause you to stay wide awake, getting caught up in a loop of lacking sleep.

 

It's true that your life has changed.  There is no ignoring that painful fact.  I can't tell you when you will laugh again -- although I hope it's soon -- but I can tell you that the more you are able to acknowledge your true feelings and express them, the faster you will process your grief feelings and regain your sense of self and regular sleep habits.

 

Ah, yes regular sleep habits.  I'm looking forward to having those back in my life and will continue to try some different ways to make this happen. 

Without being too personal, what are some of the things that help you sleep well?

The Anger of Losing Someone

Anger is a normal part of grieving.  It is.  When a loved one dies, many people feel angry first rather than sadness because they feel they are being left behind and also feel very helpless. 

Everyone says that life must go and it does but what do you do with the anger you feel?   Many people try to push the anger down and ignore it because the intensity of it scares them.  That's not going to work because eventually the anger will pop up at another time in a situation that has nothing to do with the person's death.  Intellectually you know that your loved one did not have control over the situation but that doesn't stop you from feeling something different in your heart.

Go ahead and feel the anger but you must not hurt yourself or someone else.  You have to find a way to let it out in a constructive manner.  Whether that means that you yell into a pillow, break dishes or rip clothes, feel it and express it.  Otherwise it's going to stay inside you and build up.  You may need to find a support group or go to a grief counselor to address it and work your way through it.

I found this very good first-person piece on anger and loss published recently by Hello Grief (www.hellogrief.org) and thought I would share it:

Loss and Anger
By Victoria Noe

Posted By Hello Grief on January 10, 2012

Anger can be unattractive, there’s no question about it. It’s messy and unpredictable, sometimes loud and violent. And in a world where we like things to make sense, it’s often unacceptable. But never more than when you’re grieving. There’s a long list of people we can be angry with:

The person who died: why didn’t they take better care of themselves? Why did they take such a stupid chance? What were they thinking?

The medical community: why didn’t the doctor force them to take better care of their health? Why didn’t the paramedics get there sooner? Why hasn’t someone discovered a cure for cancer, etc.?

God: why did you make a good person suffer? Why did you leave those children without a parent?
Why them? Why now? Why not someone else? Why not me?

The family: why didn’t they make him go to the doctor? Why did they let her live alone?
Why?

Why?

Why?

Death is, after all, the great unknown. Despite stories of white lights and visions of deceased relatives, no one’s come back from any extended time in the afterlife. We don’t know what awaits us.

And we REALLY don’t know why people die when they do. We say “it was just their time,” and obviously, it was. As a friend, that sense of helplessness can create even deeper anger.

Many times when I’ve grieved I’ve been angry, although I rarely shared those feelings. Despite being one of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’ famous stages of grief, it’s probably the least acknowledged.

Anger can be useful, but when turned inward, is more likely referred to as depression. That’s not what I’m talking about here. I’m talking about white-hot, body-shaking, screaming-at-the-top-of-your-lungs anger.

You’ve already realized that the grief you feel for your friend is being devalued because you’re not family. And that can add to the anger you already feel.

Even those who are also grieving are unlikely to accept your anger. Think of Sally Field melting down in the cemetery in Steel Magnolias, and the shock on her friends’ faces. The minister in The Big Chill – “I’m angry, and I don’t know what to do with my anger” – is much calmer about it, but the look in his eyes is anything but.

The problem with suppressing the absolutely justified anger we feel when a friend dies is that it will bubble up eventually. It will present itself suddenly and loudly and often in a completely unrelated situation. And that presents its own complications. Screaming at a barista who doesn’t know you won’t bring back your friend.

So, if you’re angry that cancer treatments and cures came too late for your friend…

If you’re angry that your friend’s family dismissed her threats of suicide…

If you’re angry that your friend drove drunk…

If you’re angry that an evil person chose your friend at random to kill…

Embrace that anger: accept it and embrace it. You’re angry because of the pain that your friend’s death has caused. That’s, dare I say it, normal. Frankly, it would be strange if you weren’t angry. You’re angry because you loved them and wanted them to stay close to you always. Selfish maybe, but normal and human.

So, as long as you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else, you have my permission to be angry. Then you can work on channeling your anger into positive action, to keep your friend’s memory alive every day of your life.

Guest author Victoria Noe created FriendGrief ^[2] to discuss the idea that there are profound differences in grieving the death of a friend, as opposed to a family member. While she writes on the loss of friends, her ideas can often apply to any individual who has suffered any type of loss.