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Getting Rid Of The "feeling"

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It's also important to me to see something bigger than just me. That doesn't have to be religion - in my case, it isn't. It could be something you identify as religious/spiritual, or it could be something like a love of animals, an affinity with nature, connection to people, the way you feel about music - anything that has a special kind of energy that's about more than just surviving.

After the development of my new (matured) identity, the acnowledgement of "there is something higher" has kept that feeling grounded. What keeps me interested in life is questioning the universe like "what came before the big bang?" Also, I have a spiritual connection with music, and I make music myself (since 1998)... Beethoven said, "Music is mediator between spiritual and sensual life." The problem with who I am is that I go through so much mental pain when I feel like I am on the right path. It is not normal.

I have not had bereavement counseling, but I am pretty sure it is inevitable. I guess I'm just pessimistic that the pain won't go away. Also, I've been to a psych and was put on meds, but nothing helped. I don't want meds to change who I am, and I am concerned that a psychiatrist will try to turn me into a guinea pig. If you don't mind me asking, what country? It sounds liberal... the opposite of rugged individualism... which can help lead toward smooth communalism.

You can't fight for yourself, form solid beliefs, feel a sense of belonging to 'something' till you know who your core self is; our differences make us who we are, but the society I was in made us conform to be all the same. Who could want anything in life when forced to go around not being able to express your unique nature? I didn't want to live like that -- and do feel blessed to not have to anymore.

There comes a point where you outgrow people. They hold on to beliefs just to fit in. Progressive minded people think for themselves. We will always be viewed as weird because we want change.
 
Dear Thinkingman85, welcome to you. :)

This may not be helpul at all, but I can certainly relate to the feeling you've described.

Perhaps you shouldn't worry about having the pain go away, in so far as it likely won't, well, that is to say we never forget anyone we love.
I say this in respect to the pain you've had, and can relate as I lost both parents and many family members and friends from a young age up. Sometimes with very little warning, and yes I was there also, as well as providing care in most instances. It's a terrible shock and blow when things are fine one minute and then the person is gone in the next.

Just one question, in terms of managing the ptsd that goes without saying (not sure if you were diagnosed?), but also I do think it's possible to begin to treasure the good memories and not be overwhelmed with primarily the bad.
I think of c.s. Lewis's wife saying, "Pain is part of the deal"- simply if you didn't love them it wouldn't be there. :(

I have a feeling your parents loved you very much, and am sure would not want you to lose your life in a way that doesn't do justice to all the good times, and love, yours for them and their's for you. Copy their courage, you have their genes. :)

If this doesn't help, just ignore it. Hopefully there will also be other support and 'tips' you can find here that will help.

(For what it's worth, I'm not sure that broken hearts heal, but the holes can be filled with more love, even if it doesn't feel that way).
-Best wishes.
 
Dear Junebug, thank you very much for the caring response. I am sorry that you lost your parents and friends at a young age. Regarding living with the pain, it is very hard for me. Personally, it is because I feel like I have been let down. My mother died of an anyeurism, which was very little in her control (however, she did smoke nonfilter cigarettes). I am ok with that. My father, however, died of a massive heart attack. When he passed, he was the most unhealthy I had ever seen him. He had a very large stomach and was smoking. I have much anger in my heart because his death could have easily been prevented. To live with "good memories" is very hard for me because most of the time my mind focuses on how my dad let me down when I needed him most. My dad was aware that his health was at risk. He was aware that my mom had died two years earlier. He was aware that I was 17 and I NEEDED him. Yes, he loved me very much, but I don't know how I can ever forgive him. It hurts so much BECAUSE I love him so much. I just want to let him go, reconcile the trauma, and follow my dreams.

I'm not officially diagnosed with PTSD, but I have recurring thoughts of my father's death (actually seeing my father dead), am hypervigilant, and have chronic mental pain in the right side of my brain.
 
I am so sorry for you too, Thinkingman, I wanted to say that but was hesitant about posting at all.

I can relate to your anger, or questioning, in that my dad's cancer (I've heard subsequently) has a reasonably good rate of cure with early diagnostics.. well, or so I originally thought..

But you know what Thinkingman? It has taken me many years to realize a few things, and simply get the information. My dad didn't get diagnosed for (some of) the reasons I say about my own self now: financial considerations, family considerations, bad and fruitless experiences of other family with Dr's or the medical system, 'past precedent' of poor success, 'hoping for the best', in terms of downplaying symptoms.

I also realize, where they were 'at' in terms of treatments years ago, is not where the may be now. AND, as it turned out, my dad's cancer was not as easily found one as might have been inferred.

I hear you saying, your dad could have prevented it, and that you love and miss him, and needed him, as you said. But truly Thinkingman (good name, btw :) ), one thing none of us can control is when we go, it's debatable if even suicide is as clear cut as it may appear (erroneously) on the surface. On top of my own personal experiences it's not in our control as much as we may think, as just as one can do everything right, and get ill or be in an accident.

I don't want to ramble on here, I just know what 'helps' me (or, I just simply think of it as factual), are these things: I'm as 'guilty' now of the behaviour as he was (but now I understand why, because it's out of love and need and at least a perceived lack of other options). A prolonged illness is not easy to bear, either. Feeling ill itself causes (or seems to) depression or a shift in perspective. (There are even non-well-publicized facts, such as for example lung cancer reaches it's peak prevalence 3 years after quitting smoking- what they 'don't know' fills volumes). And it can be a truly torturous, heartbreaking experience to deal with an unethical Dr, for example. Talk about shattering your heart into bits, for all concerned. So not every other possible 'option' may have been a preferable one- the real truth be known.

And when you love someone, though it's 'easier' to go first (in the sense of not losing them), you really have to not hope for that because if they love you it will cause them more pain to lose you first. :(
I also wonder, 'why' were they there that long, that is, how about those who go even earlier? (I was lucky, because apparently neither of my parents were 'supposed' to be still going, according to Dr's- so everything was a gift/ borrowed time, extra, not less. I would have had no time with my parents at all if they died when the Dr's said they were 'supposed' to).

But most of all, your dad would have invariably been in a lot of pain and likely depression- definitely grief- following your mom's death. It sounds like he did the best he could with the strength he had. :(

I know you mentioned the "God hole", so as just a thought I'll say I heard something once, that made me pause, that God knows when we are going to die before we are born (because He knows everything). So, I ask myself, how much can I influence? Perhaps my habits will determine 'how' I will go, etc, but maybe we should just 'live', there are no guarantees for anyone for even a minute. So just love a lot, be yourself (including getting angry- that's good too).
 
Losing our parents has a sting. It means we are literally orphaned. Also, for those of us "blessed" with negligent and actively abusive parents, it seems death is the release that won't come. Only the good die young? It's a stupid saying, but it has been totally true in my life.

Before I came to grips with my parental abuse, the totality of it, how bad it really was, and just admitting that, I had many dreams. These dreams foreshadowed the death of my father. He had been having minor heart issues, so I chalked it up to that. No. It was not that.

When you have a pretty good parent, their death is their death. When you had a pretty bad one, the death occurs the day you admit it. They die to you as a "parent" and become "something else." They become the nightmare originator, the author of my PTSD, the abuser. This is not the same person as yesterday, when he was just a mixed bag of bad and good, but still a parent. Now, he is a criminal. Not a parent.

I don't mean to take issue here with anything anyone said. It's just that the crappy thing is that we are all certain to lose our parents either to literal or figurative death unless we die first.

Life takes things from us, and our parents is one major, major "thing." You spoke of God. This goes with parents, as God is always referred to as "Our Father" or the Mother of the Soul.

Only a spiritual person can find a way to a God beyond blind acceptance of another's faith or just as a reflection of our earthly parents. Salvation comes in being one's own parent, or as Mandela said, "being the change you wish to see in the world." Today, it was "in a dark world, I must be the light if I wish to see."

When you go camping on a moonless night, if you have to move about, you have to bring your own light. Nobody can illuminate the fearful darkness for me. I have to do it. And I was a child at camp, doing this, and I was afraid. My circle of light seemed so small, and penetrated only the place where I put my steps, but not beyond. What was out there, in the darkness, gave me fear. This is how life feels when you are living with PTSD, daily. The light you emit only does so much, and fear is never fully gone. The darkness is always present, but I have to keep on walking with my light. It has to be enough. And good company, with their lights, helps tremendously, to keep me from focusing on the darkness.

God? God is difficult for those awakened to the darkness in any form, even PTSD. We are Christ nailed to life crying out "Why hast thou forsaken me?" My prayers are "God, where are you? Why are you silent? Where is your love, your justice? Why do the wicked prosper and the good live in pain? How is this "your plan?" Where is your love?

I cannot answer these questions. When I accept that angels are watching over me, which somehow I can manage better than God, I just know I feel better. So I just go with it. We may not reach "forgiveness" or "God," in this lifetime. Jesus' disciples said "Show us the Father," and Jesus responded "If you cannot see what I am trying to show you, then how can you see the Father?"

That is what it feels like to me. We see what we are prepared to see. If I cannot see God at work in my life, than I am not ready or willing to. I take full responsibility for the void. Once the mask is off, we'd like him to just show up and blow us away. It doesn't work that way, I think. So when I ask my questions, I am really asking God, not to show up, but to heal me and get me ready to accept that He's already here by reducing my suffering, so that I can bask in positive energy like that instead of seeing only the dark.
 
What really frightens me is that my light (my metaphor for my hope or whatever it is that gets me out of bed each day for more of this) is only borrowed God-light, and this is as good as it gets.
 
What really frightens me is that my light (my metaphor for my hope or whatever it is that gets me out of bed each day for more of this) is only borrowed God-light, and this is as good as it gets.

While reading this post, the song that I'm listening to right now is 'Misery' by Maroon 5 ... strange pairings like that have happened to me lately. If you are not familar with the song, some of the lyrics are:

Say your faith is shaken ... you may be mistaken
You keep me wide awake and waiting for the sun
I'm desperate and confused ... So far away from you
I'm getting there, I don't care where I have to go
 
After years of being suicidal and engaging in high-risk behaviors. I came to find that I never did really want to die. I just wanted the pain to end.

There is a big difference between the two and now I am happy to be alive and have made some good progress along my healing journey.

Whatever it takes to rid you of 'that feeling', ...I hope it happens for you soon.

Wishing you peace,
LH
 
Dear Muse, I agree, thought of saying it but I had said too much already. At least wherein the relationship is 'ok', the realities of grief, relief, and every other emotion necessary to come to terms with it after someone has been abusive dies is so much different. 'Relief', in so many ways, because of so much pain and fear caused. But sorrow. The death has already occurred many times, first. It feels (just speaking for myself) like your (my own) death, in advance of their's. :(

I used to think it was the deaths that screwed me up, but now many many years later I realize (I think! :confused:?) they were also triggers, after years of other things as a small child. Perhaps a loss of security, and a contributing precursor to other situations that are typical of ptsd-related attempts at coping, that unfortunately involve one in more trauma and are damaging.

I know I feel very stripped, like a turtle without a shell.

As to 'your light', you are a beautiful one. :) Whether that be 'God-reflected' or even the size of a candle. It's still 'you' and wonderful, from all I know.

I think whether it refers to 'God's circumstances' or our own, the only way to turn 'evil' so to speak things into something else is to return 'not-in-kind', though it seems contrary to logic. Like (if you believe it) Jesus on the cross. Or ending the cycle of abuse. Or even persevering to try to manage the ptsd, without others' support or even with their judgment, or lack of understanding, or condemnation.

Like LH said, it can get better. :tup: And we can find peace. :inlove:

Thinkingman, I know also you said it was 'inevitable', as per grief support. But I would check it out, 'support' being a great thing. :tup:
 
I have not had bereavement counseling, but I am pretty sure it is inevitable. I guess I'm just pessimistic that the pain won't go away. Also, I've been to a psych and was put on meds, but nothing helped. I don't want meds to change who I am, and I am concerned that a psychiatrist will try to turn me into a guinea pig. If you don't mind me asking, what country? It sounds liberal... the opposite of rugged individualism... which can help lead toward smooth communalism.

The country was Japan - very communal rather than individual. Sometimes that was good and sometimes that was difficult/restrictive. For example when I moved apartment my whole team at work came on their day off to help me move. The flip side was that when I wanted to take a trip in my own time, I had to submit an itinerary and ask my managers for permission to go. That might have been refused if they thought I hadn't planned responsibly enough, because they felt responsible for me and it would have been seen as unfair to the group for me to risk staying in a bad hotel or missing a train connection.

Regarding psychiatrists and meds, these can help some people, other people may need something else. We're all individual in what form of help works for us. In fact, I had a bad experience with a psychaitrist and meds didn't work for me, but psychotherapy/counselling has been very helpful. I hope you'll consider something like that. There are lots of different therapists and approaches, I think you'd be able to find something right for you and I think it's hard to move forward without that kind of support.
 
It sounds like he did the best he could with the strength he had. :(

I wish that I could believe that. I feel like he died on me in order to make me suffer.


What really frightens me is that my light (my metaphor for my hope or whatever it is that gets me out of bed each day for more of this) is only borrowed God-light, and this is as good as it gets.

Keep following the light and the pain will be in the dark.
 
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