All my life,whenever I've suffered a big loss of any kind, I always need to shut down for a little while, lick my wound, rest, think. Sometimes for five minutes or less, sometimes for months, like when I was diagnosed infertile.
Why? At an early age I pulled a bombscare at my school. I was treated very harshly and abusively by everyone, family included. No one was in any way kind or forgiving, I was suspended from school for a while, given one year probation, and mercilessly ostracized by everyone. When I tried to reach out for a listening ear or something resembling a hug, I was shunned.
So.... I can't risk hearing or seeing anything that isn't what I need. I must hear nothing. I must be left alone. I must begin to grieve the loss, whatever it is. Once I'm through shock and denial, the first of the five stages of grieving, then I'm ready to talk. I'm OK with hearing something insensitive or unhelpful. I don't lose my mind over it. I'm ready to forgive, love, and accept people for who and what they are again. And I'm ready to be helped, be loved, be understood. I'm ready for people to say and do the right things. I'm ready for the other four stages of grieving: anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. It's never a smooth, straight-line ride. There's always setbacks, regression, jumping around. But until I've got it through my head that it happened and it hurts, leave me alone, for my safety and yours. Please. And when I do open the door and sit down beside you and start to talk, bring everything you have and everything you are to the table. We're going to need it.
My eyes are wet. Thanks for making me think these thoughts.
I'm divorced twice. I'm currently grieving the loss of my career, long-haul trucking, due to a back injury. Today is my 51st birthday. I'M OK! I'll get through this. But it'll take time. I don't want to hijack your thread. These are my experiences with grieving. It never ends. Joy doesn't either.