TRIGGERED BY DEATH

Death is not the end. My brain knows that. My brain loves that. On the other hand, my heart doesn't accept this. I fear the death of others to the point where I'm wholly unable to get close to someone older than me, sicker than me, or shows any sign of weakness or illness.  Even if this person shows me unconditional love and friendship. I hate this about myself, and I have struggled with it all my adult years. 

In the church where I grew up, funerals were the norm. There was at least one every six to eight weeks. A majority of the congregants were elderly and at the end of their lives. Death was absolutely normal for me, until it became very personal. 

When I was 17, my beloved grandmother died. A few weeks later, I was sent off to summer camp because it was supposed to be a good distraction for me. It wasn't. A few years later, my sister died tragically in the same room as me. She died in her sleep, following an epileptic seizure. I didn't know until hours later when I woke up to get ready for work. Needless to say, I didn't make it to work that day. A month later, my cat died. Four months after that, another grandmother died. Three years later, I lost one twin, and then the other, twelve weeks into my first pregnancy. I would go on to suffer multiple other miscarriages after being told at age 20 that I would likely never have children, and if I ever did get pregnant, it would be very difficult for me to carry to term. That has proven true multiple times. 

Recognizing that I will sabotage any relationship that is getting too close with someone who may die is one thing - actually changing my behavior is another. My behavior is deeply rooted in fear, and in order to change the behavior, I have to conquer the fear. Recognizing that God is our Creator and He numbers our days is easy to type out on paper and on the internet. Actually giving Him total control and not trying to foolishly hold onto it for myself is another thing entirely. 

I once saw a popular comic where a grandson asked his grandfather what grandma was doing on a stool in the kitchen. The grandma looked worried, and was wringing her hands together. The grandfather informed the grandson that she was worrying about things, because whatever grandma worried about, never actually came to fruition. She was, essentially, protecting the family through her worry sessions. 

To you, that may sound ridiculous, and I admit, I laughed heartily at the comic when I first saw it. And then it sunk it. This is me. This is how I handle life. If I worry about it beforehand, when it comes to pass, it isn't actually as bad as I thought it would be. Somehow, it seems more manageable. Until I look back and see all the other things I couldn't even acknowledge, and all the blessings I missed out on because I was so busy needlessly worrying about something that was totally out of my control. 

My counselor gave me two new skills to practice this last week. I'm to work on them  until our next session. The first skill is to ask myself "What can I control in this current situation?" And the second one is to ask myself "What can I not control in this current situation?" I don't like either of the questions, but I'm committed to working on asking myself these things whenever I start to worry, or find myself in a difficult situation. So far, the answers have been wholly unsatisfactory, but it has allowed me to put some emotional boundaries up regarding the things I cannot control, and even more boundaries up regarding the things I don't even have influence over. 

How this pertains to relationships, I'm still working that out. I don't have control over when people die. I don't have control over how sick or how well people are. Half the time, I don't even feel like I have that control over myself. Look at the Coronavirus shitshow we just went through for the last three years. I got the vaccine and still ended up in the hospital with Covid or a variant, four times! I was wearing the damn mask, and I was socially distancing. When I needed out of the house, I went into nature - away from people. That still didn't help. 

Only God knows the answers as to how and why and when people die. I'm still angry with Him for the loss of my twins. I see no good that came from that. No major life lesson, or spiritual awakening has ever come my way from losing a child. I don't understand my sister's lifelong suffering, then slipping away to Paradise in the dark of the night. I don't understand my older brother's death last June. I don't understand why my childhood friend has suffered from the rarest form of leukemia for over a decade and is now on her deathbed, according to her doctors. And I don't understand why God saved me from not just one, but four suicide attempts. Not one bit of any of that makes any sense to me. It may never. I just have to accept it somehow and move on. 

Sundays have been hard for me lately. Sundays are the days when we actively walk into a house of worship and corporately worship God with our community. That has been tough to do when I'm struggling to worship Him the other six days of the week because I'm angry, confused, scared, and questioning so many of His decisions. I'm in a season of exploration and I don't really know how to effectively worship through this situation. When people fellowship, they generally ask questions about myself and my family. What do I say? "I'm angry with God. I think He made some stupid decisions and I want Him to explain Himself?" Or "I'm feeling primal right now and I want to physically release some of my aggression?" That's not appropriate. So I exhaust myself and say as little as possible, coming off as rude to others. That's also unintentional. 

We have to dance such a crazy dance in order to avoid stepping on toes and crushing others' feelings. We are to consider others as better than ourselves (Philippians 2:3-11) and I understand that to an extent. I'm just not always sure how to execute it. Does that make sense? 

Today, I'm very sad. I'm going to be turning 40 years in old a few short weeks. My brother is dead. I'm hoping to finally make it to his grave site for my 40th birthday. Originally, I was going to spend the weekend in NYC for the first time. I can't afford that anymore, so now I'm going with plan B. Try to see some family, and at least visit his grave for the first time, now that the snow should be cleared away for the season. 

It's normal to look back on one's life and be sad, right? To look back and see all the pain, all the trauma, abuse, heartache, bad decisions, and people who are no longer with you, and just spend a little time being sad? I do see good things ahead in the future, and I see lots of pockets of joy in the past, too. I just think better times are ahead, and the past really sucked a lot of life out of me. I'm not where I thought I would be at nearly 40, and I'm wondering if I'm heading into a midlife crisis of sorts. Or maybe, I'm just rearranging, as we are all known to do at different points in our lives...

Stay tuned for another episode.See you next time! And remember, if you or a loved one is in danger, get help immediately, and don't stop talking until someone acts on your words.

National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800-799-7233 Hours: 24/7. Languages: English, Spanish, and 200+ through interpretation service. SMS: Text START to 88788

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673 Hours: Available 24 hours. https://www.rainn.org/

988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline Hours: Available 24 hours. Languages: English, Spanish. https://988lifeline.org/

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