Pain and Kindness

I have about 10 different blogs started in drafts and lists.  I have even more in my head that I know I will write about when the time is right;  the more personal stories about my grief journey and my views on miracles and signs.  But lately I sit down in front of the computer and all I want to write is:  'It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts' over and over again like a child being punished at the blackboard.  So instead of writing about my feelings and the pain of living and losing, I throw up a deceptively cheerful Facebook status, play another round of Word With Friends, and try to stay on a track that keeps me from spilling my own personal anguish all over everyone else around me.

Why?  Because I am not the only one with personal anguish.  The world is full of people are doing their best to cope with their own problems.  Not that we can't rely on each other for help.  We can and we should.  But we can't just wander around blindly assuming that our own pain is the only pain or the biggest pain or the most important pain in the world.  We can't (or shouldn't) strike out in anger at other people when our own pain becomes intolerable. 

I was very down a few months ago and believe it or not, this concept had not occurred to me.  I was so far down that I couldn't see much of anyone else's problems (I couldn't see much of anything besides my pain).  It didn't help matters that until Michaela died so unexpectedly, I was living a blissful life.  I thought I had problems.  I complained.  Things weren't perfect, but I had no concept of the kind of raw, soul scratching pain the universe can hand to someone.  I was hurting and I was taking it out on the whole world.

During that time, I was talking to a friend and some of the problems that other people were having came up, I don't remember how.  What I remember her saying is 'there is so much pain in the world, it is a wonder that anything good ever happens' or something along those lines. 

Whatever her exact words were, they stopped me in my tracks.  I spent the rest of the day thinking about people I know personally and the challenges they face--cancer, abuse, broken hearts, loneliness, family alienation, financial hardship, teen suicide, cutting, fear, life-style haters, discrimination.  That day I decided to quit spilling my own anguish on others.  I share my pain and ask for help when I need it, but I don't flip off the driver in the next car for making an error just because I'm having a bad day.  I try not to grump at the co-worker who asks me the same question for the 3rd time.  I try not to snap at the person blocking the entire lane at the Walmart while they try to pick between 7 kinds of green beans.  And I try not to write blogs that just say 'it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts'. 

That day was several months ago.  I haven't been entirely successful in my endeavor to be more understanding of other people's pain, but I thought I had been doing a pretty good job of not spreading even more pain out there.  At least up until this week.  This week my grief came at me with a vengence and I found myself being snappy and snitty with everyone, even my wonderful husband, who, unfortunately had to weather the worst of it.  It is like being on a diet I suppose, one bad day doesn't ruin the whole thing....so up I will climb again, onto that wagon of hope, and try a little harder to keep my cup of anguish from splashing onto other people.

I know that I was right in my last post.  This year's holidays are going to be a very difficult challenge for me.  Thanksgiving passed without incident as my armor was wrapped tight around me and I had a plan of action for getting through, but as soon as the holiday weekend ended, the plan ended and the armor dropped and the pain struck blindingly.  So I learn.  I need a plan, a track to follow, a place to aim for, to keep my pain from sidetracking me.  I will stay focused on the good things in life, but I will not beat myself up for crying when my heart is breaking and I will not strike out at the people who are trying to help me.

I am blessed this year to have everyone coming home for the holidays.  There will be a lot of love and laughter and there will be a lot of action to keep me insulated from my own pain for a little while.  There will be a plan and we will all get through it together, perhaps we will do even better than just get through.  We will make new memories, happy memories.  And I will remember through the holidays and even afterwards, especially afterwards, that everyone is carrying their own pain inside.

Please be kind to each other.