Cry - The Sundays

Turning Japanese - The Vapors

When "Turning Japanese" hit the air waves in 1980, I was all of seven years old. Of course it continued to play on the radio for a few years so about the time I became aware of music I would hear it from time to time. Never gave it much thought except it had a catchy beat and a nice oriental guitar rift that I liked.

It wasn't until I married Steve that he explained what 'turning Japanese' meant. Then he pantomimed the action along with the face. I found this so completely hysterical that I would randomly ask him to 'turn Japanese' for me a couple times a year. It never failed to send me into gales of laughter.

Whenever I hear this song I can see his face perfectly. I still laugh my ass off.

Can you be diagnosed with grief?

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The Diagnostic Manual for the American Psychiatric Association is considering making grief as a psychological/mental disorder. "Critics say the controversial proposal will stigmatize what is part of the normal human condition."  Toward the end of the report, Dr. Katherine Shears states that drugs should not be an obstacle or the only answer "it (anti-depressents) is not essential but it is one of the tools in our toolbox for depression. There are others, there are very good psychotherapies for depression." The report ends with the words "A difficult subject for the pain we will all feel and the doctors who want to help."

Within days of Steve dieing several people were pushing me to go on anti-depressants. "You know, to get the drugs built up in your system for when you need it."

My consistent answer was "My husband is dead. I'm supposed to be unhappy, sad, and out of my mind at times, even."

I did agree to quick-acting panic medication (clonazepam, in this instance) for when I felt overwhelming panic attacks coming. But, overall, I wanted to feel my grief. I wanted to work my way through it as best as I could. Because it IS part of the human condition. We are all going to go through a death of someone we love. The only two things I know for certain is no one gets out alive and everything changes.

I did agree that I would ask for medical help if I felt my grief was keeping me from what I reasonably expected to be able to accomplish in life. Which lead to a very unfortunate experience with a GP.

Steve had been dead for a month. And I was having normal-type panic attacks. Then I had these other attacks. Gutterel. Primal. Screaming from the depths of my stomach. Everything was black. I fear I'd blow my brains out. I was afraid I'd cut my wrists off. I was afraid I'd jump from the tallest building. In those hours I honestly couldn't understand how pain could be this deep and my heart still beat and my lungs still draw air. Didn't my body know it was dead and to quit moving around?

So I went back to my GP and asked for 5 Valium. I've only taken Valium once in my life before for oral surgery. But it was all I knew to ask for. I needed something that could take those life-ending moments and reshape them for me. I asked for 5 pills. No refills. Just for the really big attacks. This was at the two months mark. The GP told me I was a drug seeker and kicked me out of her office. I never returned to another doctor after that.

It had taken everything I had to sit on her paper covered table 2 months after the death of my husband, weeping, begging for help and to be turned away. So I started asking my friends for any extra meds they could spare. Someone slipped me a few Xanax, that I found worked exactly as needed. The clonazepam worked for the daily moments but the Xanax worked for the really scary times.

Today is one year, six months, and eleven days since my husband died. Today is five months and twenty-eight days since my father died. Two days ago I finally met with a physiologist. I'm now on Zoloft. It'll take at least three months to build up in my system enough to be of any value. During the next three months I take Xanax three times a day to lower my panicky feelings so I can function in my day to day life.

Is this grief? Damn straight it is. It is also fear. Fear of the unknown. The life I'm not rebuilding but starting over from scratch. Cause the future I had planned before Steve died really isn't much of an option anymore. I'm 38 and my future is wide open like it was at 18. Except I haven't the energy of an 18 year old and I have the pain of a woman twice my age. That's some scary shit.

And, sometimes, it feels like every step I take towards my new future is a step away from the husband I love. That's where the guilt kicks in. Overtime. Double time.

But I'm finally ready to try and start tackling that future. I just need a little medical boost to help me get those feet moving, is all.

Do I think grief should be considered a psychological/mental disorder? No, I don't. Grief is something we'll all go through eventually. If we're lucky enough to love and be loved in return. But I do think meds can play a part in the moving forward process. Cause we can't stay stuck in this pain. Not all the time. And we should use every tool available to us.

Lonelier Than This - Steve Earle

It doesn't get any lonelier than this
I believe my heart'll break
Tonight I prayed I'd die before I wake
With every breath I'm tastin' your kiss
And it's sweet upon my tongue
Until the bitter tears fall one by one

It doesn't get any lonelier than this
'cause I'm on this road alone
My hearbeat ringin' like a hollow drum
I'm about as lonesome as a poor boy gets
And there's nothin' I can do
'cause it's dark out here and I can't find you
It doesn't get any lonelier than this

It doesn't get any lonelier than this
I'm as blue as blue can be
Just an empty place where your love should be
I'm sick and tired of walkin' round like this
With my heart outside my skin
Scared to death we'll never touch again

It doesn't get any lonelier than this
And there's no place I can go
Just the dusty corners that the shadows know
Maybe this is as good as it's gonna get
And I'll always be this way
I'll just wander this world callin' out your name
It doesn't get any lonelier than this

6 minutes 56 seconds

Love and Other Drugs

"I have never known anyone who actually believed I was enough until I met you. And then you made me believe it, too."

Love and Other Drugs

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

There was no waking from this nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that [she] was safe really, that it was all in [her] imagination; the last and greatest of [her] protectors had died, and [she] was more alone than than [she] had ever been before.

- Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - J.K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

"You think the dead we love ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? [He] is alive in you ... and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him."

- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - J.K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

"... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin."

- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone - J. K Rowling

And When I Die

Sookie: "Please don't go."

Gran: "I have to, dear."

Sookie: "I'm so lost without you. I don't know what to do."

Gran: "Yes you do. Answer's where it always is...in your heart. Bein' alone, it ain't nothin' to be afraid of, my (dear). We're all alone at the end."

True Blood