Advice please! — The struggle is so real

Letter of the week: Hello, I am needing some advice. I lost my father suddenly a few months ago — we were close. I have just not been able to cope. People are thinking I should be okay by now and that he is in a happy place. I know they mean well but I don't want to hear it. I have had anti-depressants, doctors and psychologists helping me but nothing is working. I'm struggling with dark thoughts myself. Please give me some guidance as to what I can do. Will this pain ever go? — Sarah (an alternate name)

Hi Sarah. I'm so very sorry for your loss. I cannot pretend to imagine how you feel at this moment. Thank you for sharing with me — I will try to help you with some ideas as to what you can do.

First: WELL DONE in reaching out. This is not an easy thing to do. Secondly: you mentioned dark thoughts that you are having — let's discuss that on the telephone shortly. It is crucial that when you are in the 'valley' you make the call to your safe person, or Lifeline on 13 11 14. Thirdly: grief counselling is a structured way to help you address your grief, the sudden loss of your father, and the new person you see staring back at you when you look in the mirror — a person that you don't recognise.

I hope that you are able to approach a registered counsellor who will be able to help you start to navigate this new, unknown and unfamiliar world. In the interim I can offer you some words that may work as a bandaid until you get to the professional help you need.

The death of a loved one that filled your heart leaves a deep and empty feeling of despair, pain and anguish. This pain can oftentimes manifest physically as well as emotionally. There will be times that you are feeling so many emotions at the same time that you are paralysed with an overwhelming panic and desire to scream in utter grief. When this happens to you — DO IT. SCREAM. GET THAT FEELING OUT.

Grief comes in waves — up and down, calm, choppy, and then you're caught in a rip and losing sight of your own life. Like the ocean, we never turn our back to it. The safest way to navigate around the water is to face it head on. Yes, at first each wave of grief will hit, hurt and knock you over. It hurts. A LOT. But you will get to know where to stand on the sand, how to place your feet and legs, and how to prepare for when the wave is about to hit. You will learn — in time — how to manage the waves.

No, my dearest — the waves won't stop. There won't come a time when there are no more waves. But you will become a master of the waves and foresee when they are coming, their intensity and their duration, long before they ever hit. You will learn to prepare and accept your new gift in being able to read the ocean. I know this is so far from where you are right now, but I want to give you a glimpse of the hope that you can have in this terrible loss.

You have become a new person. You have a new ability to love and appreciate life. You have been able to travel to the crossroads of death and life. Today your heart is broken, empty and in pain. The process is long and taxing, but you will be learning something new every day. I would love to take this journey with you — if you would allow me the privilege of learning about your father and telling me all about him in our sessions, I will never tire of hearing about him and your relationship with the person that made you.

Take heart, my dear Sarah. Go gently. — Maria. Copyright Friendship Centre.