Read Letting Go of Disappointments and Painful Losses Online
Authors: Pam Vredevelt
Pain and pleasure are opposites: when you share grief, you decrease it; when you share joy, you increase it.
A
NONYMOUS
I BUCKLED MYSELF INTO THE SEAT, GLANCED OUT THE
window of the plane, and checked my watch. So far, so good. Wewere departing on schedule. The flight attendant welcomed usaboard and gave the usual instructions. “In the event that thecabin loses pressure, an oxygen mask will fall from the compartmentabove you. Slip the mask over your nose and mouthand breath normally. If you are traveling with children, or someoneis seated next to you who needs help, put your own maskon first and then help others.”
I had heard the statement hundreds of times before, but this time something about it struck a dissonant chord in me. The thought crossed my mind that my natural reaction wouldbe to want to help my children first. No doubt that’s why theygive the instructions. The authorities are well aware of a parent’sinstinct to protect, and they also know that a child requires lessoxygen than an adult. If adults pass out from oxygen deprivation, they aren’t going to be of any help to children.
Now and then I observe a paradox among those whoserve others: caretakers who don’t take care of themselves. Many
people I talk with in my counseling office or at conferences regularly place their own needs at the bottom of their to-do list. The job, the boss, the kids, the spouse, the community, the church—everyone else gets the best they have to offer. The caretakers get the leftovers, as if everyone’s life except theirs deserves attention and support. The tragic result is that these caring folks end up living life on the verge of burnout.
You will break the bow if you keep it always bent.
G
REEK
P
ROVERB
While talking with Carmen during a therapy session, I learned that she had been the primary caretaker of her ailing parents for ten years. She nursed her father for four years before he died. Shortly after he passed on, her mother had a stroke, and Carmen spent the next six years attending to her needs. Not surprisingly, after her mother’s death, Carmen felt like she was “caving in.” The loss of her beloved parents was intensely painful, but exhaustion further complicated the grief. When I asked Carmen about the nature of some of her own needs, her eyes glazed over into a blank stare. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I really haven’t thought about it.” Together, we set out to help her think about it and learn the basics of healthy self-care.
Grief is hard work. It takes emotional energy to let go of something near and dear to our hearts. When we’re processing a painful loss, it’s important to give ourselves permission to downshift into survival mode, to streamline our activities and conserve
our mental and emotional resources. We typically don’t have much of an emotional buffer when we’re in the throes of a major life adjustment. That’s why self-care is critically important.
If you don’t slow down, you’ll break down.
J
UDITH
S
T.
P
IERRE
Revisiting the basics is a good place to start. It’s amazing how symptoms of anxiety and depression are diminished by incorporating three simple ingredients into our routine: healthy meals, ample sleep, and regular exercise. They provide a firm foundation for successfully letting go. If we subtract one or more of these three components from the equation, we run the risk of arresting, or at least inhibiting, our forward movement in life.
Think about it. Have you ever noticed that when you are in a time of transition, your eating, sleeping, and exercise habits tend to become somewhat erratic? Transitions are stressful. When stress increases, compulsions also increase, and routine tends to be less than consistent. We find ourselves eating more (or less) than necessary, grabbing junk food on the run, or skipping meals altogether. Our sleep patterns can become erratic. We may sleep more than usual, lay awake at night, or burn the candle at both ends. Likewise, we may cut back on exercise, skip it altogether, or become more compulsive about it.
Let’s revisit these basics, one by one, and examine ways to manage them during the letting-go process.
There are many helpful books that offer sound eating
programs, so I don’t want to go into great detail here, but I do want to underline the importance of consistently eating nutritious food. For some, that means three balanced meals a day. For others, depending on their energy output and blood-sugar sensitivities, it may mean four or five small meals a day.
During a season of letting go, what you eat can make a significant difference in your endurance. Letting go of disappointment and painful losses requires high-octane fuel. Diet soda and junk food aren’t going to give you what you need when you’re mentally and emotionally taxed by chronic stress. Some nutritional experts suggest increasing your protein intake at such times because protein is a stabilizing energy source that burns longer than carbohydrates. Adding a high-quality vitamin-mineral supplement can also bolster the body during prolonged periods of stress.
In the year following Nathan’s birth, I was physically and mentally exhausted from adjusting to the reality of his handicaps, illnesses, sleepless nights, and the fluctuating hormones in my postpartum body. I had to force myself to eat three healthy meals a day. I had no creative energy for cooking fancy meals, so I had to simplify everything. The objective was to get something from each of the five food groups (meat, dairy, fruit, vegetable, and starch) every meal. I relied on simple cuts of meat, convenience foods, and recipes that were quick and easy to prepare. During that year, we barbecued on the gas grill several times a week and frequently used the rice cooker. Fruit, nuts, and protein bars provided quick, energy-boosting snacks between meals.
While I’m sure there were days when I didn’t hit my objective, at least I had a target to shoot at. Remember the old saying: If you aim at nothing, you’re sure to hit it. On days when I was more disciplined and stuck with the program, my stamina was significantly better, and there was a marked difference in my emotional energy.
Sleep is another of our most important needs when we’re in the process of letting go. I remember talking with a mother whose eleven-month-old baby had died after complications from surgery. “All I want to do is sleep,” she complained. While it’s a fact that one of the red flags of depression is wanting to sleep more than necessary, I was puzzled by her remark. After her baby died, she had taken a full-time job and was putting in ten-hour days as an executive assistant. I asked her how much she slept, and she said, “From 9
P.M.
to 7
A.M.
,” as if this were a ridiculous amount of time to be in bed.
It had never crossed this woman’s mind that she needed the extra sleep because of the heavy emotional burden she was bearing—not to mention the stress of learning a new job! From my perspective, those ten hours of sleep didn’t point to pathology; they indicated good self-care. The body needs time to restore and replenish itself when we are carrying heavy emotional loads.
“For those who are suffering with symptoms of anxiety and depression, I’m going to save you $120 right now,” I said to a group of professionals gathered for a stress-management conference. “You can significantly reduce these symptoms by getting eight to nine hours of sleep a night.”
Sleep is God’s celestial nurse who croons away our consciousness, and God deals with the unconscious life of the soul in places where only He and His angels have charge. As you retire to rest, give your soul and God a time together, and commit your life to God with a conscious peace for the hours of sleep, and deep and profound developments will go on in spirit, soul, and body by the kind creating hand of our God.
O
SWALD
C
HAMBERS
As I expected, people fidgeted in their seats, smirked, glanced around, and gave me
the look.
You know, the look that says, “Yeah, right, lady! What planet do you live on?” Of the several hundred gathered in the room that day, very few raised their hands when I asked, “Who averages eight to nine hours of sleep a night?”
We live in a fast-paced world, constantly struggling to meet its unending demands. We work, raise families, build marriages, tend to friendships, and try to cram in some exercise and recreational activities. Our daily planners are full of to-do lists. There are never enough hours in a day to get it all done.
A friend of mine recently had his gall bladder removed. As a corporate executive, he was used to having a lot of energy and maintaining a high level of productivity, but recuperating was taking its toll. When he complained to his doctor that he was still feeling tired two weeks after the surgery, his doctor said, “Following this type of surgery, the body heals at a rate of 15 percent per month from the inside out—
if
a person rests and takes good care of himself. If you push too hard, you’ll delay your recovery.”
When we suffer a major disappointment or a difficult loss, it’s as if part of who we are is surgically severed or cut away. It takes time and rest to recover. Sleep is one of the primary ways the body restores itself. If we rob ourselves of it through overactivity, we slow our recovery and impair the healing process. In short, we prolong and intensify the pain involved in letting go.
Activity itself proves nothing: the ant is praised, the mosquito swatted.
A
NONYMOUS
My grandfather, an entrepreneur and successful businessman, used to say, “The only problem with sleep is that you’ve got to take it lying down.” He was a hard-working man who could close his eyes and catch a few winks just about anywhere and then awake refreshed for the rest of the day. These
catnaps were in addition to the solid eight hours of sleep he got at night. It’s a model of self-care worth considering.
We’re more likely to be successful in our endeavors of letting go if we lay aside our to-do lists and put ourselves to bed in a timely fashion. With refreshed minds and healthy bodies, we’ll be more effective in handling the new list tomorrow.
I found I could add nearly two hours to my working day by going to bed for an hour after lunch.
S
IR
W
INSTON
C
HURCHILL
Finally, when you’re doing the hard work of letting go, exercise is prescriptive, not optional. Although I’m not an expert in physiology, as a clinical counselor I know the mental and emotional benefits of exercise. Studies have shown that exercise is a key to managing depression and anxiety. It’s a cheap, easy way to elevate mood, decrease agitation, and deliver a sense of calm to the brain. The endorphins released during aerobic exercise, for example, are powerful mood elevators and natural tranquilizers. Exercise is also a superb tool for managing anger. When we exercise, we physically force tension out of our bodies.