Anatomy of a Loss

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July 5, 2012

When you lose someone that you love and that you depend on, it feels like everything around you has just crashed and burned. It doesn't matter what is happening in the world because yours just got charred beyond recognition. You are forced to reprogram everything about you. Who you are. What your path in life was. The goals you had planned. Everything before the death of a loved one is scraped. 

Your mind wanders about aimlessness, and you just go over your mind time and time again about how you will be able to do it. Where do you go from here? You are afraid and bewildered because you are unsure what to do and who to turn to. You find that you question God and yourself and examine everything about your life. 

The doubts set in about yourself, and you want to return to the day before so badly just to reassure yourself that everything is okay. But you know you can't. You just close your eyes and pray to go back before that moment that changed your life and stopped destiny from ever happening.

The hyperventilating sets in, and anxiety ravages your body. Your legs grow weak without even knowing it until you stand and fall right on your face. But you don't care. You're where you want to be. On the ground. Rolled up in a ball, hoping and praying for this whole thing to be a nightmare. You want someone to shake you out of your dream so you can sigh in relief that it wasn't real. But then you realize it is real, and you get outraged.

When someone dies, it feels like you were just part of the biggest scam ever. You become so mad and enraged because you feel like you were cheated. That your children were cheated out of the best years. All you want to do is have a few more seconds back just to say "hi" or "I love you" just one last time if that is all that life would afford you. 

 

But alas, you can't. The reality is your situation is real, and there is nothing that is going to change it. So you try to heal. You try to feel better, but it's all a lie because you won't be, not now. But when?

The first days feel weird because everything is still the same. The smells are still there. Their possessions are unchanged. It looks and feels like they're on vacation. You lose weight because you forget to eat. You actually need to remember you're hungry. And when you do realize you haven't eaten, you don't feel like it because you aren't hungry. All the while, you lose twenty pounds in days without knowing where it went.

You dread the days leading up to the funeral. You listen to people tell you that "you will feel better once they are laid to rest." All you want to do is avoid the funeral at all costs. It keeps you up at night. The thought of burying someone close to you is unbearable. You realize that you have to do it, and you suck it up and do what you have to do. You just wish deep down you could sleep through it all. But you can't, and you are miserable. You try and cope by any means necessary before arriving at the place of worship.  Maybe you pop a Xanax or 2. 










                                                                                               

Your sleeping habits change. You go from long hours of not sleeping to intermittent periods when you do. You only get a good night's rest when your body and mind pass out from the lack of sleep you provided over the last several days. When you wake up, you feel revitalized, but that only lasts for a few seconds because your mind picks up right where it left off before you passed out. It's like you pressed pause only to resume play when you wake up. It feels like it never ends.

Reality sets in that you are alone. It is a hell of a thing when text message and phone calls from a loved one quits cold turkey. You realize that your situation isn't ending anytime soon. You fall deeper within yourself. Going beyond what you made you normal and wondering if you had passed the point of no return. That abyss is frightening but then you welcome the unknown depths. If I die, I die, mentality sets in. If my love one can die, really, how hard can death really be?  You aren't getting better, and you know it. And you simply don't care about anything. Every day you get up, you look for the purpose of starting your day. Your children, your pets, your faith. But in reality, you don't want to move from your self-pity.  You are right where you want to be.  In your own filth and anger.

You're still in shock. Everything still doesn't seem real. You still go about your daily life as if it never changed. You assume things will work themselves out and get better. You pretend that your loved one is still there. People tell you it will get better and that "God wouldn't give you anything you can't handle." or the classic, "Everything happens for a reason." or the "Let go and let God." (Whatever the hell that means). Trust me, no one knows what to say, and you know what? It's okay, Argh! All you really want is someone to tell you, "This fucking sucks, here's a gift card."  A laugh or 2 may come from somewhere but even the laughter tends to fade. 

You feel isolated and alone. No one comes around anymore because your family and friends do not want to be around your misery. They have their own lives and problems. The last thing they want to be is around your hell. You only shower or change your clothes every few weeks, maybe a month. The only time you shower or change your clothes is when you can smell the odor from your body. And hopefully, that was enough to make you. You eat everything and anything that's wrapped in plastic wrap and loaded with preservatives, gaining back your twenty pounds and then some. You feel trapped without real help, wishing you had help, but deep down, you don't give a shit or care anymore. You are angry at the world and everyone in your world who seems to have forgotten about.  Somehow, you manage to get by.  You may take to social media and post message of disgust to friends and family.  You know you are right to lash out but then you may come to your senses and quickly delete your posts. 

People move on in the months after your loss. They may see you along the way and say, "Hi." But you are truly alone. Well, it's how you feel anyway. You just don't care anymore about their approval or if they ask you, "Is everything okay?" Life is the same for them, and you're happy for those people because you don't want anyone to go through what you're going through. However, you want their help, you need their help, and you wish to God they would reach out. But then you're so deep in yourself that you wouldn't seek help from even your closest friends. It is what it is. Maybe I pushed them all away. But who cares? I didn't need them anyway. At least, that is what I tell myself.  I have my bottles of Jack, Grey Goose, Belvedere or Johnny Walker Black to keep me company. 

Finally, you are at the point where you don't give a shit! You don't care about anyone or anything. Punch me in the face and go about your business because I am too weak to defend myself, and I do not care enough to protect myself. I want the pain. I need the pain. Hurt me further. Beat me down more than I am. Pulverize my soul until the point I cannot catch my breath so I can hide forever. Just leave me the fuck alone because that is what you have been doing to begin this entire ordeal. You fight for clarity. You fight to regain who you were and ultimately find it. Because if you don't, then you'll just get left behind. Because, in the end, no one gives a shit about you more than you. By this point in your grieving and misery, you may have changed your appearance from one extreme to the other...

I was lucky to make it on the other side. My children needed me. I needed me, and my faith needed me to come back again to reality. But no matter how much I think I have beat this misery and pain. You only learn to cope because the pain will always be there somewhere, deep down within your heart and soul... and once and while it will rear its ugly face again. 


















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Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

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