“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”
– “To A Mouse” by Robert Burns
Full disclosure…this post is lengthier and more somber than typical. It has little to do about money or finances, but more to do about my experience with sudden and unexpected change, grief, and personal growth. If this isn’t your cup of tea, I completely understand, but if you’re willing to oblige me with your audience for a few minutes, I would like to share my story with you in hopes of opening a channel of dialogue for others who want it or need it.
I believe there’s a value to be gained in the sharing of experiences, in good ones and bad, both for the sharer and the willing listener. What that value is, exactly, differs from person to person, and evolves and changes with each sharing.
This week marks an ominous anniversary for me and my family. Five years ago, my reality and my family’s reality was flipped on its head. Five years ago, my future and my family’s future was permanently altered. Five years ago, my mentor, my friend, my dad ended his life.
Disbelief. Confusion. Anger. Denial. Anger again. Thoughts of “Why didn’t I” or “If I had only”. More disbelief. Anger again…at him…at me…at everyone. And then more “What Ifs”. Then hopelessness. Then the apathy. And then the g-d fog takes over…and it stays.
The fog is heavy and feels like it will never lift…in the beginning. But it does…and it did. But buckle up because the cycle repeats…over and over and over, year after year. The emotional roller coaster never really gets easier, but it does get shorter. What was once months at a time is now only days or sometimes even hours.
Early on, I tried to forcibly will my way through the grief. No joke, I remember literally googling the five stages of grief and measuring my progress along the path trying to figure how it would last and how to get to the last stage of Acceptance, so that the nightmare would be over and life could be normal again. Funny thing, though, you can try to speed up the grieving process, but what nobody tells you is that it’s not a convenient ladder to be climbed step-by-step. It’s a maze…and you’re blindfolded…and there are surprise trap doors that send you back to the beginning just when you least expect it.
Grief is weird. We will all deal with it at some point, but the circumstances that cause grief and the different ways that we grieve are infinite. Your experience will no doubt be different than mine. Growing up, there’s no handbook or coursework to prepare you for handling it…and there’s little guidance on how to help others cope with it. So many go it alone and grieve in silence.
Thankfully, over the years, I’ve found healthy ways to cope with my grief. Running, woodworking, writing, helpful strangers, shared memories with good friends and a loving family. I’m still working my way through the grief though. Someday…one day…eventually…if I’m lucky…I will get to that fifth stage. But until then, I can only be patient and take it one moment at a time.
I’m sharing this with you for two reasons: one, for my own therapeutic relief; and, two, because I’m not isolated in my grief and my struggles. I see it and hear it every week, both spoken and unspoken, in my conversations with my clients, my colleagues, my family, and my friends. It’s not always about grief from death, sometimes it’s about struggles with a career, sometimes it’s about the end of a career, sometimes it’s about the kids, sometimes it’s about the parents, sometimes it’s the changing of the family dynamic, sometimes it’s the loss of a dream, and sometimes it’s the struggles in pursuit of a dream.
We live in a world where the best versions of our lives and our neighbors’ lives are proudly and continuously displayed all over Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Rarely do we share the struggles, though, but the grief and struggles are there, often unspoken, and the burden carried alone out of fear of judgment or isolation because “we’re the only one”. Sometimes the struggles are short-lived and we find a way through, but sometimes they’re deeper, more pervasive, and more permanent.
My hope is that, by sharing my experience, it may provide some value or validation for you, but if not to you, then someone you know. Share your struggle…recognize the struggle in others…talk about the struggles…write about them…with a spouse, with a friend, or with a stranger.
“There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.” -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow