A Broken Heart – A Survivor- July 1998 It was at the time of my mother’s death that I began to realize the full impact of my father’s death by suicide, decades ago. This realization began in therapy. Bill, my therapist, asked what I wanted to deal with during that session. I said, “Let’s deal with my dad.” As usual he suggested I relax
thoroughly, close my eyes and take deep breaths, breathing into my body.
After a few minutes he said, “OK, now describe for me that 9-year-old
little girl who lost her father.” I did. He then said, “Now
I want the 46-year-old Nancy to tell this little 9-year-old Nancy what
her life is going to be like without her dad.” When my dad committed suicide
it literally broke my heart. In a way I always thought a part of me died
when he did. I now know a part of me simply stopped growing. The rest
of me grew up, learned life’s lessons, but a part of me was always
left out, always left behind. A part of me remained the age I was at the
time of his death. This is not unusual. In my case, this ‘little
girl’ wrapped herself around me to protect me and try to ease the
pain. Of course what really happened was she stopped the grieving process,
thus my healing never occurred. Without going through the full grieving
process we carry scars and even open wounds. Wounds we don’t know
we have. Wounds that are just waiting for someone to come along, and without
warning, and usually without intent, inflict incredible pain. I believe the phrase, “a broken heart” is quite appropriate here. Along with this, people can develop a system for protecting themselves from ever suffering such incredible pain again. Each and every person develops his or her own system. For me, my ‘system’ was to keep this little girl so well fueled that she could protect me forever. The best fuel I knew was food. My system worked well for almost 40 years. Then something unexpected happened. My mother died. I found myself without my mother and without an identity. I was no longer the daughter who had dutifully cared for her mother. For me the pain simply became too great. It was time to begin the true grieving process. Of course I thought I was going to grieve the loss of my mother. I had no clue I would also be grieving the loss of my father by suicide decades ago. But it was time to begin to deal with this most painful experience. It was time to show the flaw in my well-developed ‘system.’ I’m grateful I took the time and had the energy to do so. I’m grateful for the pain, for without it, my system never would have failed. SOS Newsletter Article, Mental Health Center of Dane County, Inc.
|