When no one asks
I was sleeping the other day between night shifts and woke up earlier than usual. The first thing that registered to my consciousness was intense anger. I was taken back because why would anger be the first emotion I recognize when I wake up? It took a moment, but I realized I had been dreaming, which is very rare for me. I don’t remember the entire situation in the dream, but I do remember this: I was out somewhere with my parents and my in-laws. I could hear my mom and my mother-in-law talking about me (nothing new, I am used to that). I was a far enough distance away that they did not think I could hear them and they were talking about how I had been wearing too many of Travis’ t-shirts lately. My mom was saying how I wasn’t going out with friends anymore. She almost insinuated that I was just being lazy and would rather wear his t-shirts than dress cute. And that pissed me off because in dream reality, I had been wearing his clothes as a comfort. I wanted to yell at her for the apparent lack of empathy. My thoughts even after I woke up were this: Maybe I do feel better wearing his shirts. Maybe I don’t want to go out right now. Ever think to check on me instead of judging me and telling others I am being lazy?
In the dream (and into part of the day), I felt both hurt and angry. How could my own mom not ask to make sure I am okay? If this were reality, I do think she would have asked, but it didn’t make me feel any better at the time. I felt a sense of abandonment, even though I knew it wasn’t real. Sadly, people who are grieving feel this hurt more often than they would like. No matter how long it has been since the loss, greivers still have hard days. It has been almost 2 years, and I still have days in which I don’t want to get out of bed. While those days can be hard, it can be even harder when it seems nobody has noticed. The rest of the world seems to go about their lives like you aren’t struggling to keep yourself together. Holidays can be like this, especially as more time passes, but I think the harder days are the unexpected, seemingly ordinary days. The ones in which the griever still has to go to work or school. Eventually, grievers get very good at hiding their hurt. We learn to push through the day, even if we feel our hearts tearing apart. Sometimes, I think we are a little too good at that. Of course, we still have jobs and work to do, but I hope I (and no other griever) ever gets so good at hiding their pain that even their closest friend or family doesn’t see it. Suffering is hurtful enough, but suffering alone is even worse. My best advice for this is to find a trusted family member or friend who knows you very well. Ask them to check in on you. You might be surprised how much someone will pay attention if we let them know we need them to.
Whether grievers realize it or not, there is always one constantly available to us. It doesn’t matter if we are at home, at work, driving in the car, or any other place we might be, God is always accesible. Even when we may not feel it. In one of my favorite Switchfoot songs, I Won’t Let You Go, he sings “You want peace, but there’s war in your head. Maybe that’s where life is born, when our facades are torn… If you could only let your guard down, if you could learn to trust me somehow, I swear that I won’t let you go.” If we can be willing to be honest with ourselves and God, our sense of abandonment and hurt can be greatly reduced. Even the best people will not always see your pain. God is and always will be there for us. For me, simply the awareness of someone who will always be there is comforting. God sees us, even when we feel invisible to the world.
