trigger warnings: Alzheimers, Pandemic, Suicide, Mental Distress, Grief.
positivity warnings: looking at, listening to, laughing with and loving the silver threads in life!
In December 2021 I sat beside my father in a care-home, as he lost his battle against Alzheimer's following the restrictions the pandemic imposed. In November 2022 we found our 19 year old son Beck, not breathing, in our home, mental distress having lead to him ending his own life. We will never know his reasons. I have fabricated my own theory, and his father, sisters and friends may also often challenge themselves with the whys, hows and what ifs in the darker moments of self doubt. What I have learned over the last year, is that my pain of loss is something I need to figure out a way to master.
It’s not in my nature to share the depths of my pain, but reading the account written by Beck’s elder sister, I realise that sometimes sharing what we all feel helps others to know they’re not alone and that their feelings are normal.
She writes:
“I think I've felt every emotion since losing Beck.
I've felt broken, not just my heart but my whole body.
I've felt angry. Angry at the help we begged for and didn't receive. Angry at other people for being ok, for sharing their stories of how they survived, how come they got to get through it and Beck didn't? Angry at people for complaining about their family or their siblings when I would have done anything for him to be there pissing me off like siblings do.
I've felt overwhelming guilt. The type that wakes you up in the night with a racing heart. It doesn't matter how many people tell me in different ways that it wasn't my fault, he was my little brother and I wasn't there to save him. I don't think I'll ever not feel that way.
I've felt moments of happiness, and then immediately ashamed that I could be happy without him. For a long time, I'd know that a 'good day' would always be followed by a period of bad days, as if I'd use up all the happiness I could find and would have to balance it out with feeling terrible again.
I've felt sad. Sad with my own grief, even more sad watching as the people I love hearts break, knowing that there's absolutely nothing I can do to make it any better.
I've felt numb. This was a weird one, especially after feeling every emotion so strongly. The things that have always fuelled and driven me, made me feel nothing at all.
I've felt anxious, exhausted, drained, lost, damaged, hopeless.
What's crazy is that all of these emotions feel completely insignificant in comparison to the feeling of missing him.
This feeling is too big to describe in a couple of sentences. Whoever said that time is a healer definitely wasn't talking about this part of grief. The more time that goes by, the more I miss him, knowing l'll never get to give him a big hug and tell him I love him again is almost unbearable…”
I’ve shared what our daughter wrote here, with her permission, as I have also felt all this and more.
Time may not be a healer, it has however given me the chance to learn and to grow.
For me it’s been reading and searching for answers that’s helped me survive the overwhelming guilt and sorrow. I have to laugh at the things I read... that sometimes set me back…one book all about the science of happiness, also asserted that of course of all the things that are hardest, if not impossible to recover from, are the loss of a child and the loss of a parent to Alzheimer's… thank goodness they didn’t also mention suicide… how to set someone up to fail! What I have found that not many consider is what happens to the children who are not only managing their own grief for the person they have lost, but also the fact that they lose their parents while they grieve?
That said, I have found a method that helps with guilt and blame… a five step process to master forgiveness… which I’m going to try and adapt to figure out how to forgive myself.
I’m learning about post traumatic growth… how trauma can lead to such a dramatic change in your way of thinking that it can transform you… for the better if you let it.
I’ve learned that each of us has a unique set of core strengths developed through our life experiences.
I’ve realised that the worst days and moments are generally companions of lack of sleep, food, exercise and routine or anything that raises my heart rate through anxiety like deadlines and pressure at work.
Writing allows me to privately draw myself out of sadness and brain dump worries, as long as I focus on the purpose of writing in the first place, and give myself time to slow my worries.
Talking with the right people allows me to process the sadness and lift it from my primitive obsessing and into the present common sense world of self help.
I have a playlist that only has songs that make me want to dance.
Crying in the shower is great… albeit mixed with the dribble of water from an electric shower that Beck always hated.
Creating artwork is a fantastic immersion distraction to give my mind a rest.
Helping other people and trying to share all I’ve learned over the last year is the thing that personally gives me most reward… ok, that, and sneaking the odd chocolate!
I am not saying the bad days aren’t bad, and I mean really life crushingly bad, but I’m gradually figuring things out and if I can do what’s meant to be impossible, then my real message to all Beck’s friends and to others experiencing the shock of loss, be it loved ones or a way of life, is to say that what you’re feeling is normal. I am offering my hand to give you a lift and maybe you can share your pain and your tricks of survival with your community.
The first anniversary of Beck’s death was late November 2023. Everyone said it would be tough so I committed to go for a walk every morning round Brough Park in Leek through November… past the church where so many of Beck’s friends came together in solidarity at his funeral, down under the trees where you can pause to take deep breaths of the rich pine scent, past the skate park where he mastered the grind and the fakey (although I’ve probably got the terminology wrong there!) Round past the bowling green and tennis court to hold hands with my Dad too! Then down and up the hill again to raise my heart rate a touch… before heading home past ‘Spoons’, (taking care not to drop in for a pint).
Not only did that walk get me out early in the morning and give me purpose when I could so easily have curled up in a ball at home, it also let me hold hands with my community. Friends joined me on different days while the change in the season lead me through the month as the leaves fell and the cold wrapped its way in. Dropping into Harrison’s in the square on the way home meant we had fresh veg at home and an orange every lunchtime. Each day’s dawn helped me formulate a way to “Walk with BECK”.
B is for Breathe! and take a moment to Look at, Listen to, Laugh with and Love the world around me.
E is for Examine the energy! of my thoughts and beliefs and trust in the future.
C is for Convert -ve to +ve! by holding hands with my companions be they books, musicians, friends, family or the wider Community.
K is to Keep Kicking Ass! with a kaleidoscope of my solutions... as long as there's kindness at the core of every kick! or more simply “Kick Ass with a smile!”
I am just one person talking about ways I am learning to survive. I’ve added this News article here to our Scabetti website, in the hope that it inspires the community we are a part of, to find ways to embrace and thrive in the pain of loss. I am walking with BECK, safe in the knowledge that my son is now free to walk, run, surf, skate, strum, with everyone where-ever they are. This is the text I now put at the foot of every email I write: so it feels fitting to put it here:
I pause... and accept the things I can't change
I trust in the future...and change the things I can.
I embrace the joy in life and empower others to do the same
Visit https://www.zerosuicidealliance.com to find free training that might give you the skills to help save a life.
Visit https://www.mind.org.uk or Text SHOUT to 85258 (or YM if you're under 19) to help save your own.
Support your local community with First Aid Training from St John Ambulance.
With sharing in mind, and if reading is your thing, then I offer this small selection of books that might help you now or at some time in the future as they have me…
The Grieving Brain.
Mary Frances O'Connor.
This is the book we were gifted by my brother in law... who lost his brother to suicide around forty years ago... he said this was the only book that made any sense to him and he's the partner in a law firm so is well read in general. It was my bible in the very early days after Beck died.
Healing your grieving Heart for Teens.
Alan D Wolffelt PhD.
Explains really simply lots of tools for grief recovery. Out of print. I was given mine by a friend and bought more on line to give away.
This Book could Save Your Life.
Ben West
In 2018, Ben West’s world collapsed around him when he unexpectedly lost his younger brother to suicide. In the raw aftermath of this tragedy, Ben found the strength to learn, educate and campaign about mental health. He also wrote this book as a reminder that in despair you can always find hope. It’s packed with advice and practical takeaways.
You're not Listening.
Kate Murphy
Kate is a journalist... nothing about grief here. I think this sums up the beauty of learning to listen and what a difference it can make in anyone's life. The important thing I have realised is that when I am in mental distress, I need to find people who will listen and help me to find my own solutions, and when my mind is settled I can actively listen to, support and learn from others.
Flip It.
Michael Heppel
A general guide to the skill of turning -ve to +ve.
Read this with caution though, remembering to keep kindness at the core of every positive solution you look for and Kick Ass with a smile!
I'm hoping I've given you inspiration to let Beck's smile help guide you as it does me... as you Kick Ass with your own solutions to the challenges you face in your life!
Thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings.
Frances.
Photo at Beck's local skate park: one of my silver threads!
