I went to my last therapy session thinking I would trust my T’s experience and go with her suggestion that talking about my mum’s death is important...so, even though I didn’t know what to say about it, I thought I would go, tell my T that I was going with her suggestion but that I didn’t know what to say and hope/trust that she would guide the conversation. I even took my favourite cuddly toy who I haven’t taken to sessions for ages..for moral support.
And then I got there...and there were roadworks right outside her window, so we had a 90 min session against a soundtrack of a pretty much constant sound of a pneumatic drill. FFS! It was a dreadful noise and really distracting...and I decided pretty much straight away that it wasn’t the sound or atmosphere that would support me in diving in to exploring my loss and grief!
@scout86 - yes, there are a few factors. My T has called it Traumatic Grief. I’ve googled it. Sudden death, where there is no chance to prepare or say goodbye. It just comes out of nowhere. So the bereaved have to process their loss/grief and also the trauma. And the family dynamics...yes, that’s a big one...family dynamics were tricky for me before and, in some ways, this situation has now worsened without my mum in the dynamic. Things are very difficult and anxiety-making.
Like you, I do feel very relieved that I did not witness her death first hand, unlike my dad, sister and niece. I feel bad for them that they went through that. My dad told me in so much detail everything that happened and it was in their home, which I know so well...so whenever I think about it, I see it as though I was there anyway. I know it’s not the same as being there..I know it was worse for them...but my vivid and visual reconstruction of events doesn’t make it seem all that distant.
On the “what’s the point in telling anyone?” front...something interesting happened on that front...the dreams I’d been having about my mum...often several a night, most nights in the week...they lessened after I told my T about them...I wrote them all down on a big sheet of paper, passed them to her for her to read and we spoke for just a few minutes at a pretty surface level about them...they are still happening and still having an impact but they haven’t been as intense of frequent since. Perhaps that’s what happens when you tell someone? Perhaps some things lose their power a bit?