Learning 2 Live Again - in spite of grief
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If you didn't do it before, don't sweat it now [excerpt Grieving with Honour]

4/27/2013

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In the beginning I was focussed on being two people. I would do Cherie's housework and various duties then begin working on Butch's jobs.  I was always exhausted, attempting to have everything as pristine as we would have had it.  One day I sat on the ground and cried because the weeds were getting out of control in the courtyard.  I felt Butch would have been disappointed in me for not keeping it tidy.  How silly is that?  Wherever Butch is at this point of time, I bet he doesn't give a fig about the weeds in the courtyard.  However, he may be worried about me getting stressed out about something so minor!
The stress of being one person trying to do enough for two took its toll on me and I could feel my energy levels dissipating on an alarming scale.  To top it all off I wasn't making any headway. 
One day I was telling my cousin Kaye about my dilemma, she told me to stop thinking of it as being two people's jobs, to instead think of them as being Cherie's jobs.  She told me to write a list and realise Cherie would get around to them when she could.  The relief of this was phenomenal!  In hindsight it seems like the most logical way to work through everything that needs doing, but sometimes it's difficult to see what is right there in front of your face.  Kaye pointing it out to me was 'a duh, how obvious' moment!
I think sometimes when we are going through grief we see everything as really big and huge instead of as a hurdle we can walk up to and kick over if we don't want to jump over it.
Before 2008, when things went wrong in life, I pictured them as lots of little incidents falling around my feet like scattered bricks.  When we are depressed, sad or angry it can feel like the bricks don't seem to scatter anymore, they stack up creating a wall we just can't climb.
I guess part of beating the blues is to find ways of 'kicking' the wall down, like the 'Cherie To Do' list.  All of a sudden I didn't feel like a slave to our home and how it used to be.  If I didn't feel like rushing around madly I didn't have to.  I could enjoy a quiet moment or read a book without feeling guilty.
In most relationships, the duties are divided between both partners. Butch would handle the mechanical, handyman and complaints departments and whatever duties we didn't share, were my department.
When Butch passed away, I had no idea how to organise a car service without being ripped off - hence the $5,000 for a my first routine service! I was naive, I told the head mechanic my husband had just passed away and he told me not to worry about anything he would look after me. I obviously didn't notice he was rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
I am pretty independent and maybe just a little stubborn (although I prefer to think of it as 'independent thinking'!), so I refused to ask anyone for help, believing it was time I stepped up and did all those jobs I hadn't bothered to worry about before. Big and expensive mistake!
So, my advice to you, is if you didn't do those things before your partner passed, don't sweat it now. It isn't a sign of weakness to admit you don't know everything about all things. Ask friends and family or ask if they know someone who can help you with anything you are unsure of.
If you don't do housework, either get a cleaner in, or find someone to help you until you feel confident enough to do it on your own. The same applies to cooking, gardening, repairs, etc. Don't feel 'less than' because you need help with even the most menial of jobs.
I remember getting frustrated because I couldn't change one of the light bulbs. I worked on that sucker for days on end, I refused to be beaten. I kept berating myself for being useless and stupid. It turned out there was something wrong in the fitting itself. I’d spent a week in the dark just because I didn't want anyone to think I was a failure! What a waste of energy, emotion and time!
Nowadays, I know who I need to call on for help no matter what the problem and its great to know I don't have to do a crash course in ‘stuff’ I don't really want to understand.
Hugs,
Cherie xx


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Clothes We Wear [excerpt from Grieving with Honour]

4/13/2013

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During my grieving journey I have been told on countless occasions I shouldn't wear black all the time.  In the beginning I wore black as a symbol of my grief and to show how dark and lonely my life was - even if this wasn't intentional.
As time passed, I wore black because it gave me comfort and later I preferred it as it made me feel invisible, which to some degree I felt I was.  Some days it felt as if everyone had got on with their lives and Butch was 'yesterdays news'.  
There are many reasons for preferring the darker clothes in your wardrobe, some of them are rational and others aren't, like me believing I was invisible.  
By wearing black I was saying 'I don't want to get on with my life, in fact, I want out!'  Wanting out is a normal part of the grieving process, but eventually you will want to be 'in' the life you own.
It is important to gradually incorporate colour into your life, in part because it symbolises the emergence of you into life again.  It is a known fact that black is a depressing colour, but not everyone realises by wearing black you are reinforcing your depression.  Take a look around you and look at the people who wear black as a uniform.  Are they happy, cheerful souls who are living a life that resonates, or are they sad, miserable personality types who believe life has nothing to offer them?
I'm not saying you should outlaw black attire at all.  What I am pointing out to you is that you already know you are sad and lost, but you don't have to live as if you are.
I've always believed in the power the mind has over the body, so if you are dressing in a manner that helps you to remain stuck in your grieving space/depression, it will be difficult to rise above it.  
It hasn't been easy to incorporate bright happy colours in my life, when I am feeling so darned miserable without Butch, but I know he wouldn't want me to wear a depression shroud for the rest of my life, he would want me to make the most of my time here.  Isn't that what your friend/loved one would want for you?

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