In The Face of Grief — Cindy Foley

Survivors?

What do we call

those who are left

after someone

takes their own life—

Living dark,

wrapped in a suffocating shroud of guilt,

I wear the act,

sure that everyone sees it

smothering my breath.

Pain

raging within,

hides

behind a mask

of false confidence,

and questions without end…

What lies

beyond the dark?

“The darker the night, the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!”

— ― Fyodor Dostoevsky

In January 2020, I joined two Facebook survivor of suicide groups. For the first time in forty years, I felt like I was finally talking to someone who understood, I mean really understood. Others were saying things I had said for years.

Can you please tell me it gets better?

I try being tough but I’m not.

I feel so broken.

Does it ever get better?

I feel like I’m in the worst nightmare I can’t wake up from.

I find myself struggling with daily life.

That was the day my world flipped upside down.

How do I get past this?

Nobody wants to hear it.

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it

Do you still wear your wedding ring? I can’t bring myself to take it off.

I’m just not sure how to be a sibling…without a sibling.

How does my life go on without you?

There was far too much left unsaid.

I feel like I’m pretending that I’m okay.

SOME ANSWERS

Take the time you need for you.

Be kind to yourself.

It’s not your fault.

We are all in this together.

Seek a trauma therapist.

Every time I see a butterfly, I’ll know it’s you.

My heart hurts for you.

Thank you for reaching out to me through your own grief.

I’m so sorry. One minute at a time.

Allow yourself to feel.

It’s okay to laugh.

It’s not your fault.

Let the emotions flow.

No words. Only love and hugs for you.

Be as good a friend to yourself as you are to others.

One of the hardest things is knowing what to say in the face of someone’s grief.

Words don’t seem to be enough.

But sometimes they are.

Recently a work associate/friend passed in his sleep. I’d never met his wife. She was coming into the office to pick up his things when I met her in the parking lot. I introduced myself… and then…the worst… I clammed up. I could sense her pain as if it were my own. She walked away, and I said nothing but, “So sorry.” I didn’t want to hurt her more than she already was.

Afterward, I thought about all the things I could have said. I wanted her to know that her husband always spoke lovingly and respectfully of her. He never made rude jokes about her. Through his occasional and loving sharing about her, I felt like I kind of knew her even though we’d never met.

What would I want someone to say to me?

“Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“What can I do to help?”

“When you’re ready, can we get together and talk about it?”

That one thing you don’t say because you’re afraid it might hurt them more just might be the one thing they need to hear. They probably can’t hurt any more than they already are. The time you take to touch that suffering soul might be the light of their day.

Each day matters more than the one before. I am blessed.