PREFACE: This blog is an investigation on applying factors of coping with death to factors of coping with loss. It is a little lengthy and very anecdotal, but I felt it was necessary to make a proper comparison. Please realize this before choosing to read. Thanks!
Death is a widely studied subject. Even my (stupid) college had a class on the subject ("Death as a Fact of Life"). Whether you learned it in psychology or religion class, the Stages of Grief are pretty standard: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. When dealing with a loss, I believe we go through these stages, although not necessarily in a simple, linear order. Also, I am NOT using the word loss as a synonym for death. Please make note of that fact.
I lost someone who knows how many days, months, years ago. My (ex) best friend and I always had a rocky, fair weather friendship. It got worse about 4 years ago when his girlfriend convinced him "being friends with a girl is wrong." We didn't speak for 6 months. This is where Stage 3: Bargaining comes into play. I called him right before I left for NYC. I told him I was willing to put aside everything because I wanted us to make up before I moved. Then again, bargains only work when both parties make good on their share.
Things went from awkward to good to quiet and so on for a while, but I guess there's always a calm before the storm. A year ago, he started displaying erratic behavior: excessive drinking, drugs, and partying. Rather than accept this new lifestyle of his, I chose to participate in Stage 1: Denial. I refused to believe it was really him and told myself it was just a stage his current (new) girlfriend was imposing on him. After another missed birthday (mine) and a "he said, she said" accusation on his part, I went into Stage 2: Anger. I screamed at him for the first time and told him where he could shove it. Obviously, we didn't speak again for 4 months.
I went to some therapy which made me really miss him so I tried to reconnect, this time there was no bargaining. Instead we just sort of denied the whole fight happened and went on like normal. That worked for less than a week before I realized denial really doesn't work. Soon he was back to his old ways of never calling me back and putting everyone (and their dog) over me. A quick bout of anger led into Stage 4: a long string of depression over the matter. But since I obviously don't learn, 7 months later I was back to Stage 3. I was so deep into Stage 4 I was willing to bargain my pride, morals, and soul just to have him back in my life. Unfortunately, a trade was impossibly because I had nothing of value to him [that is, nothing except seeing me in pain or dead, but that's another story].
It's been a couple months now and I'm trying to take steps toward Stage 5: Acceptance. But every time I think I am succeeding, I run across something that so strongly reminds me of him. Oddly enough, the feeling I got the other day from reliving the memory of the Met could not be found in any of these "Stages of Grief." A sadness, for sure, but not depression. If only you could imagine how it feels to miss someone like they're dead when they haven't really gone. Sometimes I tell myself he is dead, and that makes it somewhat easier. Maybe he really did die that Thanksgiving weekend. Maybe the only way to reach acceptance is to fully realize the boy I knew is gone and he is never coming back. That's not as easy to do when he's not really dead.
A quandary for thought.
