We used to think that the death of a mother, husband or wife is always a tragedy. However, some of us are ready to admit that after the death of a loved one, we felt liberation and even peace. In this grief, they began to understand themselves better, a new life was opened to them, in which they could become happy.
“I buried my husband, and I felt better.” “It was only after my mother died that I was able to become myself.” Feeling peace after the death of a loved one – hearing such confessions does not happen often. It is not customary to talk about such feelings. And even admitting them to yourself is also scary. After all, doesn’t saying this mean signing your own heartlessness? Not always. And there are many situations when it is not only possible, but necessary, to recognize these feelings.
“I did everything I could”
One of these situations is the years of life spent next to a loved one who is fading away from a serious illness. Nikolai, 57, cared for his wife, who suffered from dementia, for seven years. “I cooked, I cleaned, I read for her,” he says. – And Anna at first even asked for forgiveness for the fact that so much fell on me. It hurt, but it also confirmed the importance of being together. Then it got worse. I tried to calm her down when she screamed at night, and not be offended when she stopped recognizing me. I hired a babysitter. And soon I heard Anna complaining on the phone to her sister that I had settled another woman at home … “
After the death of his wife, Nikolai could not help but admit that he was relieved. And guilt. He honestly says that more than once he wished that death would come to his wife as soon as possible. And now this thought haunts him. “I stopped understanding what was real about my relationship with my wife,” he says. – If I did not love her, I would hardly have survived these seven years. But if he really loved, how could he wish her death?
According to our experts, there is no contradiction in this. The most pressing problems, including the problem of death, involve all levels of our consciousness – from the most ancient instincts to relatively young social superstructures. “The reaction to pain is an instinct,” explains psychotherapist Varvara Sidorova. “The suffering of a loved one is a double pain: his own and ours.” And the desire to get rid of this pain is inevitable.
If we provided a loved one with worthy care and attention, if we did everything we could, then we have nothing to reproach ourselves with
“The phenomenon of preliminary grief is also known,” continues Varvara Sidorova. – When it is clear that a person will die soon or when he loses his personality traits, loved ones can experience the loss before it occurs physically. And at some point there is indignation: but when? There is nothing to be ashamed of in this either, these are natural experiences in the case of long suffering. They need to be acknowledged and not condemned for them.”
Loss activates other archaic mechanisms of our psyche, says psychologist Marie-Frédérique Bacqué. She recalls the well-known concept of infantile omnipotence: “The helpless newborn child lives with the feeling that the world revolves around him. He is the center of this world, because with the power of thought he achieves the fulfillment of any desire – his parents are in a hurry to fulfill them. Perhaps, at the same level of experience, the feeling is born that the death of a loved one, whose death we in despair could wish for, happened because of us.
Either way, the level at which these experiences arise is beyond our control. Death after long suffering brings relief. It’s pointless to argue with this, and you can’t blame yourself for this feeling either. “We cannot be responsible for our instincts. But we can and must be responsible for our actions, – sums up Varvara Sidorova. “And if we provided a loved one with decent care and attention, if we did everything we could, then we have nothing to reproach ourselves with.”
“I loved and feared”
43-year-old Victoria lived with Mikhail for less than two years and broke up with him shortly before their son was born. She broke up, although she continued to love, because their life together turned into a nightmare. Which, however, also did not end with parting. A charming man, a promising artist, Mikhail was an alcoholic. He tried several times to quit, but each breakdown turned out to be more and more terrible. In the end, alcohol became scarce, and Mikhail turned to drugs.
“I remember exactly – when they called me and said that Misha committed suicide, my first thought was: “Finally!” Victoria recalls. “I no longer had to endlessly drag him out of the police, then out of the hospital, lend him money, lie to his unfortunate mother that he was on a business trip, listen to nonsense on the phone at three in the morning. And be afraid that this nonsense will cover him when he once again remembers that he has a son – and comes to visit. But I loved him. All this time I loved. Why didn’t I stay with him, didn’t try to save him?”
Victoria knows that saving Mikhail was beyond her strength – she tried more than once or twice. But, like many of us, he idealizes a deceased loved one and the more acutely feels his guilt before him, even if this guilt is imaginary. “In such situations, it is more appropriate to talk not about relief, but about another feeling – liberation,” notes Varvara Sidorova. – It comes when relationships were built on the principle of “love-hate, leave-stay.” And in dealing with loss—and your reaction—it’s important to recognize the true nature of the relationship as well.”
You can’t forbid yourself your feelings, even if you are afraid that someone will consider them wrong
Psychoanalyst Virginie Meggle (Virginie Meggle) recommends in the first days and weeks after the loss not to analyze your feelings, just accept their ambiguity. “Understanding will come later, as you cease to be embarrassed that your life is not completely overwhelmed by only sorrow,” she says. To recognize ambivalence means to stop being afraid that we felt hatred and love for a person at the same time, the psychologist is sure: “But even if we hated him, then it becomes clear to us that we loved him and cannot demand more from ourselves. This recognition is necessary in order to do the work of grief that accompanies every loss.”
In a situation of loss in ambivalent relationships, the mechanism of experiencing grief often fails. “We begin to mourn the deceased, but suddenly we remember how much pain he caused us, and tears are replaced by anger. And then we catch on and are ashamed of this anger, – lists Varvara Sidorova. “As a result, none of the feelings is experienced to the end, and we risk getting stuck at one stage or another of grief.”
“I finally became myself”
The liberation that psychologists talk about is not only deliverance from the oppression of painful contradictions in relations with a departed person. In a certain sense, it is also gaining the freedom to be yourself. 34-year-old Kira was convinced of this. She was 13 years old when her mother was widowed. And she chose Kira, the youngest child in the family, as her child for the rest of her life and “support in old age.”
“My brother and sister soon flew out of the nest, and I stayed with my mother. I felt that she was counting on me, placing her hopes. Without realizing it, I was my mother’s little daughter until the age of 27, until suddenly a friend suggested that I rent an apartment together. And I didn’t even have time to think when I heard my voice, he said: “yes.” I moved, although I was worried about leaving my mother alone. She died two years later. She died quietly and quickly – in her sleep. I had depression, I felt responsible for her death. But this experience was mixed with something else. I realized that I no longer need to think about whether I will please my mother or disappoint her.
“You can’t forbid yourself your feelings, even if you are afraid that someone will consider them wrong,” insists Virginie Meggle. Accepting your desire to live is the only true and responsible way. Only on it you can meet with yourself. And gain the ability to illuminate your relationship with the dead beautiful light.
A spectacular and powerful woman, Kira’s mother devoted herself to the family. “My mother loved me, but she was so demanding that I was always afraid of being imperfect. For example, I always walked in heels – to look “like a real woman.” Shortly after her mother’s death, Kira fell in love. The husband became the first person to whom she decided to tell about the difficult feelings caused by her mother’s death.
“If there is an opportunity to share your emotions, it is worth doing,” confirms Varvara Sidorova. “Although choosing someone to trust with grief is a difficult choice. Sometimes people do not know how to help, and out of helplessness they start doing stupid things. But if you trust a person, then it’s better to share.”
“Today I am much happier because I really feel like myself. And if I feel like it, I wear flat shoes or sneakers!” Kira smiles. In her mother’s honor, she planted a tree in her summer cottage. And once a year, on my mother’s birthday, she ties a purple ribbon on it – my mother’s favorite color. Sitting under this tree, Kira feels that her mother would be happy with everything now. And son-in-law, and granddaughter, and even sneakers on Kira’s legs.