I think it’s safe to say that when we’ve reached age sixty and beyond we’ve already gone through our fair share of hard times, illnesses, and tragedy. I know I have. I was nine years old when my favorite uncle died in a plane crash, my first friend died of breast cancer when we were both in our forties, and my father and brother both died much too young – in their early seventies.
During their growing up years my boys had many emergency rooms experiences and a couple of hospitalizations. But the biggest tragedy in my life was the death of my older son, Paul, by suicide twelve years ago, as a result of his bipolar disorder.
My survival after that tragedy has become a big part of my life, so I thought I’d share my survival tool kit with you. But, make no mistake about it. I’m not here to tell you how to behave during your hard times and tragedies. This is just my list of things I did to go on with my life since the death of my son.
My Three W's for Tragedy Survival
Three things became necessary to my survival almost immediately. I call them my three W's:
- Writing: Even before Paul died, I started writing about him and his manic-depressive illness. I kept a journal to get out the frustrations of dealing with his erratic behavior, manic episodes, and hospitalizations, and I took several writing classes and workshops. Later on, writing became my therapy. I still write everyday.
- Working Out: I have always exercised regularly – at least three to four times a week first thing in the morning. Then after Paul died, I started working out every day. Even now I can’t get through a day without exercising. When I don’t, I’m sluggish, less energized, and more apt to be tearful. I just don’t feel like myself. Okay, you could say, I’m compulsive about it. But for me it’s a good compulsion.
- Working: At the time my son died I was writing grant proposals as a consultant from home. Afterward, I jumped into action when I heard of an opening and was rehired as a technical writer and editor and proposal manager by the aerospace company I had retired from five years earlier. The work was challenging, meaningful, and very stressful. I liked working with ever-changing proposal teams. Also, I thrived on the socialization, the respect others had for my work, and the challenges.
My Tragedy Survival Diversions
My survival also depended on filling up my time with diversions – escapes, anything to mask the real world from my brain and to keep my mind and body occupied. I still participate in these diversions out of habit. I don’t see any reason to stop. Here’s my list.
- I read. I’m always reading something. My taste is very eclectic. I read fiction, memoir, nonfiction, and poetry that my book club or I select. Usually I have at least two books going. I also read my New Yorker magazines while I’m working out on the elliptical trainer.
- My husband and I go to the movies, theater, and opera regularly. I could go every night. I almost don’t care what is playing on the screen or stage. It’s an escape from the reality of my life. I find myself getting fully involved in what is happening and forget for a while who I am and what I have lost. And if the subject matter is tragedy, there is always something to learn. In the past years we’ve gone to more movies and theater and opera than ever before. If I have my way, we’ll continue to do so in the years to come.
- We travel. We have taken a trip almost every year since our son died, and we feel very much restored when we get home, because we make a point of not taking Paul with us. When we’re home, the reminders of our tragedy are everywhere. When we’re away we leave those sad memories at home. And I try hard not to think about all the wonderful places and things he chose to miss.
- I pamper myself with facials, botox injections, umpteen bottles of anti-aging creams for my face and body, manicures and pedicures, massages, hair straightening, makeup, high heels, and attractive clothes. The list goes on and on. All of this stuff feels good, helps me look good, and boosts my mood. Why not? Just because I am one of the walking wounded doesn’t mean I have to look like a dowdy old woman. I tell anyone who will listen that taking care of ourselves is a key to survival.
Some Things Not in My Tragedy Survival Took Kit
- More true confessions – I don’t take drugs – no Zoloft or Prozac or whatever the current mood elevator is – for me although I have been taking St. John’s Wort for some time. Supposedly it helps keep me calm.
- I didn’t get into therapy. I find support groups depressing beyond words, and after visiting a recommended therapist within days after Paul died, I made up my mind that I wouldn’t seek out talk therapy unless it meant talking with someone who had experienced a loss similar to mine. Otherwise it made no sense to me. What could a person without that experience tell me?
- I didn’t return to smoking. I quit smoking over fifty years ago, and I never thought about starting again.
- And, no I didn’t turn to alcohol. In fact I still manage to go without my nightly glass of wine in the months of January and July, a practice I started almost twenty years ago. Why? It feels good. I like the break. January is the perfect month for an alcohol break because it is right after the winter holiday indulgences, and July is six months later. I like the idea of an alcohol detox every six months. It’s another way I know I’m in control.
So there’s my tragedy survival tool kit. I’m sure most of you have your own ways of dealing with your survival through the tough times in your lives. If not, I hope my tragedy survival tool kit will inspire you to stay moving and busy and to find some kind of creative outlet to take your mind off your worries.
