What is active grieving?

[mikeeh]

So year 3 has officially begun and I guess it is tradition that most move on to this category of Beyond Active Grieving.

 

I am not sure what active grieving is.  I still have my 'oh shit she is dead!" moments but more often it is "was that part of my life that I think that I remember real?  Was there a time when I was happy and someone cared?"

 

I am fairly certain that it isn't so much grieving that I deal with as much as it is  just hating this new, well I guess not so new anymore, life I am stuck in.  A life of nobody caring and meaning nothing to anybody.  I often think I exaggerate my loneliness and isolation.  Judging by the cascade of concern and well wishes that I was bombarded with yesterday maybe it isn't exaggerated.

 

Since it seems to be much more about my miserable life than it the loss of my wife, not that they aren't related, I guess that would make grieving a secondary concern and maybe puts me into the beyond active grieving category.

[Trying]

Good question.  Are we missing the person we lost or the life we lost? There are days I am beyond actively grieving and there are days I am still right in the thick of it.  Today is not a good day.

[Wheelerswife]

mikeeh,

 

I know I got to BAG with my first husband by 18 months out.  I'm just a couple weeks shy of 18 months out for my second husband and I'm by no means BAG now.  I don't think that one can put a specific timeline on it.

 

My life feels lonely, even when it is full of wonderful people.  I'm lonely because the person with whom I had the one truly intimate relationship in my life - is no longer here.  I long for him.  I hope for time to soften my pain and that it will allow me to be open to that kind of intimacy again.

 

In the mean time, I cultivate friendships, I learn new things, I study, I prepare to support myself again, I pass time with travel and friends and I still mourn and grieve.  I hope some day to be BAG again, even if that means I am further from the life I had that was so happy.

 

I'm not sure which combination of factors brings you to this point now, but I know how much you miss your wife and your old life...the time when you felt most loved.  I wonder if it is more difficult for introverts? 

 

Hugs,

 

Maureen

[Mizpah]

For me, active grieving is when mourning was my life and my thoughts always, it was a hibernation, when I felt closer to the dead than I felt myself in the land of the living.  It used to be completely inconceivable to me that he was dead.  Now it's hard for me to tell which is more inconceivable: that he's dead, or that he ever existed at all.  It's a product of time, yes, but there's something more it takes, and that something more is different for everyone - an event or just a gradual process.  IMHO

[Guest TooSoon]

Active grieving for me was when every single aspect of my life was defined by the fact of my husband's death 24/7.  Around 18 months, I started to come out of it when I threw myself back into my research and little by little (yes, I'm going to use the dreaded phrase) a new normal started to take shape.

 

I'm half way through year three and I agree with Mizpah.  More often than not, it all seems like a dream.  I know it happened (there is a small child running around here reminding me of that fact at all times) but it is often hazy, like a film I once saw. 

 

 

[lcoxwell]

I have been wrestling with this same question, my own self, especially in the last month, as I prepare to move away from the life I lived here with my Kenneth. There are days, when I think I am probably closer to being here, than I am to actively grieving, and then there are days, when I can barely move, because I simply miss him so very much. As everyone has mentioned, it's different for each of us. I think I will know I have reached that point, when I am more focused on the future, than I am on the past. I am ever so slowly getting there, but I don't think I have made it quite yet.

 

I think Maureen brought up an interesting point about introverts. While I am not an authority on this, by any means, nor do I claim to be, I can say my introvert and extrovert scores are nearly identical on the personality scales, with my introverted self being only slightly stronger. I do find that I seem to grieve more, when I am alone for extended periods of time. When I am going out and doing things with people, I still grieve, but not quite so deeply and all encompassing, if that makes sense. I think introverts have a smaller circle of friends, and therefore, have a smaller support system. This could potentially make them feel the aloneness a little more and could potentially make it harder for them to move beyond actively grieving. Of course, that's just my opinion.

[Lmsmdm]

 

I think Maureen brought up an interesting point about introverts. While I am not an authority on this, by any means, nor do I claim to be, I can say my introvert and extrovert scores are nearly identical on the personality scales, with my introverted self being only slightly stronger. I do find that I seem to grieve more, when I am alone for extended periods of time. When I am going out and doing things with people, I still grieve, but not quite so deeply and all encompassing

 

Yes, this.... For the most part, I think I have made it.....but my official 4 year is right around the corner (July 1), so, now everything is amped!!

[Jen]

 

I am not sure what active grieving is.  I still have my 'oh shit she is dead!" moments but more often it is "was that part of my life that I think that I remember real?  Was there a time when I was happy and someone cared?"

 

I am fairly certain that it isn't so much grieving that I deal with as much as it is  just hating this new, well I guess not so new anymore, life I am stuck in.  A life of nobody caring and meaning nothing to anybody.  I often think I exaggerate my loneliness and isolation.  Judging by the cascade of concern and well wishes that I was bombarded with yesterday maybe it isn't exaggerated.

 

Since it seems to be much more about my miserable life than it the loss of my wife, not that they aren't related, I guess that would make grieving a secondary concern and maybe puts me into the beyond active grieving category.

 

This is something I ask myself all the time. I'm miserable, my life is lonely and empty and largely meaningless-- but does that mean I'm still grieving? I miss my Jim, I miss my life with him, but I don't fixate on his death anymore-- I think I've pretty well accepted that particular fact. I'm no longer surprised when I wake up alone-- I don't find myself asking where he went.

 

Instead, I'm increasingly self-absorbed (which I hate, but I can't shake it). I don't want to say I obsess about it, but I guess I do: I'm alone, I'll always be alone, no one wants me or ever will, how can I possibly endure another year of this, let alone decades? I don't want to do this anymore. I've gone as far as I want to. No more, please.

 

I don't have a stepping-off option. I keep going because I'm required to. It's like running an endless marathon-- and it's not like people don't care. The route is lined with well-wishers and supporters, people who cheer me on and hand me cups of water. But they won't let me stop, and they can't run it for me. No one can take this away from me. There's no fixing it. I don't know if I can survive it much longer; thriving isn't even on my radar.

 

I'm sorry to be so negative. I wish I could be a Pollyanna type, but I've never been good at that. I've tried everything I can think of to reorient my brain and improve my attitude. I journal, I write affirmations, I recite mantras while I walk. I try to distract myself. I always end up in the same place, no matter what I do or what I tell myself.

 

I am an introvert, and I do think that's a factor. I've wanted to be around people more and more since Jim died, but I still don't feel comfortable with them. My solution is to hang out at Starbucks, where there are usually plenty of people and I can pretend I'm a member of society. The baristas and a few regular patrons chat with me now and again. Mostly I'm left to myself, but I can at least say I've been out among the living.

 

I will always mourn my Jim's death-- he was too young, it's really not fair. We should have had years and years together. But I don't think I'm actively grieving his loss anymore. I think, rather, that I'm grieving the loss of my own life-- which feels selfish and even wrong, but... well, it is what it is. I'm here, and that's all. I'm trying to accept it and not judge, but I'm afraid I'll be stuck in this hell for the rest of my life.

[marjoe]

"I don't have a stepping off option..." (and the rest of that paragraph.) Oh, yes. You've said it perfectly. I have sweet friends who are there for me, but at the end of the day, it's on me. To do whatever I need or have to do. I'm not whining, really I'm not. I have single and divorced friends who deal with this crap, too. It's just that - to have been loved and supported, and returned it in kind, now it's so different. Today's 7 years. Crap. 

[anniegirl]

Been trying to think how to answer this question (and I don't believe there is one right answer) but this sums up, imo, how you know you are beyound active grief:

 

I think, rather, that I'm grieving the loss of my own life

 

I don't think it's selfish to be focused on yourself. I think it's normal and simply part of the progression onward. As time moves on, losses get put in a box that sits until something prompts us to acknowledge it, peek inside or unpack it.

 

I have noticed that moving past active grief, as hard on us as that it, loss becomes a different sort of struggle that isn't necessarily relief.

 

I know that people hope there is a finish line but there isn't. You will always miss and be sad and ponder the unfairness. But for most, it's less and less as life becomes more and more about now and the future (near or far).

 

 

 

 

[Lisa]

Beyond active grieving isnt finite for me. Like the rest of this journey it ebbs and flows. I miss him but I'm getting used to it. But I'm a disaster before the anniversary each year.

once my whole identity wasn't centered on widowhood I started settling into BAG