Photo by Kristina Tripkovic on Unsplash
Panic attacks, the very first
experience of them, teach us something about the nature of a life we never knew
existed.
There is a suffering that is deeper
and darker than much of humanity typically comprehends.
This is not said to glorify
something that ought not to be mentioned. It ought to be mentioned to
corroborate the experience of the few.
I recall speaking with a 50-year-old
director of a psychology firm — a man with great access to the best psychological
resources humanly known — who had never suffered any mental illness. Having
experienced an unprecedented failure, something that he could not have
foreseen, within days he plummeted into such a sharp depression that panic
attacks came as a rude surprise. He lost weight overnight and his face was
gaunt. He was beyond words for the hours he had never previously experienced.
For me, I was a 36-year-old when
paralysing grief struck at a time that I could not have predicted. I was
plunged into a darkness beyond words and comprehension within hours — the
nature of an irredeemable loss that couldn’t be denied. And yet, it was months
later — five months later to be exact — when I had one paralysing day that
couldn’t have been predicted. A day when I almost ended my life, such was the
power of feelings that overwhelmed every sensibility of my personal capacity.
You’re shown something in that moment
where paralysing grief overwhelms you. There are experiences in life that are
completely foreign to our experience of life. Once you have survived these experiences,
you’re granted the opening of your eyes. God gets your attention and your life
is never the same again. But staying the experience is about resting within
good support that is available to you.
You can fight reality all you like,
but when loss strikes it takes no prisoners and you quickly find a grievous
reality is yours and it lasts and lasts and lasts.
There may be a plethora of ways we
can kick against the goads, but each time we find ourselves thrashing in
quicksand. To no avail. Sooner or later you realise there is no shortcut to a
rectification to your circumstances. And when you would settle for acceptance,
even that, for a very long time, is impossible.
Paralysing grief is only
experienced by those who 1) have the rug of their lives pulled from under them,
and
who 2) experience such a poverty of resources to deal with such a
tormentingly perplexing reality that they submit to their despair.
But here is a paradox! Not everyone
will have the humility to allow such
a slide into such an abysmal oblivion. Many, many people will run to a crutch,
some form of handle to attach themselves to the scaffold of distraction that
saves them from entering transformational grief.
It is no good for someone to
sidestep suffering. Insisting upon control in a life situation where there is
no control, attempts to delay the
inevitable. It is utterly futile, yet so many go there for fear that they will
not survive the crushing.
If life throws us a situation that
involves paralysing grief, though it seems counterintuitive, we’re blessed to
go with it, to suffer the truth of the love we’ve lost, which will crush us
again and again, rather than betray the experience by somehow denying our
grief.
Denial of the reality of grief is
denial of our very identity. We become less when to be transformed by grief
would be to become ultimately more.
The promise of grief is the promise
of growth.
Suffering the truth of the love we lost crushes us again and
again, but in facing a reality of suffering we never knew existed we find
resources for hope and recovery we never knew existed.
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