Inner Conflict

Seasons have changed from the last addition to this blog. And, likewise, the seasons of our lives. Immeasurable inner conflict has all but paralyzed me emotionally and mentally.  Dilemma: to choose between subjugating to tragedy or choosing to grieve the unthinkable loss. To shut down and just exist? Become an embittered person? Push through the pain? To move forward regardless of the cost? The struggle is exhausting.

Last spring, through an incredible freak accident, our family lost Jack. Jack, our two-year-old beautiful grandson. Remaining hard to believe, surely, this horrific nightmare will end. Nothing can remove the tender, continuous ache caused by his absence; not even professional grief counseling. Thoughts of him permeate each day. Grieving for Jack, his mother and father, my daughter and son-in-law is an ongoing trial.

Thank God, we know where he is. He is happy, safe, secure, and protected for all eternity.

Can you subjugate to a tragedy? Absolutely. Giving-up and giving-in are possible not only to an individual, group, organization, or toxic environment. Loss of health, employment, a national disaster, a personal tragedy – all of these and more qualify as events rich in opportunity to subjugate. To give up and give in, to cease contributing to others’ lives, to only exist and hate doing so. Depressed, hiding from life, hiding from love, becoming embittered and angry. Not a pretty picture. Not at all.

As difficult and painful as it is, grieving through the loss is critical. Otherwise, one may suffer from incomplete, delayed, or frozen grief. Freezing feelings prevents movement through the stages of grief that lead to healing. Dragging the silent pain around with you permanently, it becomes chronic. Chronic grief is often evidenced in physical symptoms. Medical issues such as digestive problems, muscular pain, allergies, and skin problems are common to name a few.

Addictions, such as emotional eating and excessive drinking may also occur.

Fully grieving, we have chosen to push through the pain. Some days are better than others. Initially, it was hard to believe we would ever smile, much less, laugh again. We have and we will. Yet we miss his beautiful blue eyes, his great smile, and all that is Jack.