19. FIND WAYS TO UNDERSTAND AND COME TO THE LIMITS OF YOUR GUILT

• Talk about any lingering feelings of guilt, regret and remorse. Don’t nurse them and continue to punish yourself for them. Instead, give them voice and see how their power over you diminishes.

• I would be remiss if I did not point out that some parents are in fact partly or wholly responsible for their child’s death, whether it was intentional or accidental. These parents often benefit from professional help in dealing with their overwhelming guilt. (HEALING A PARENT’S GRIEVING HEART: 100 PRACTICAL IDEAS AFTER YOUR CHILD DIES; Alan D. Wolfelt, PhD; 2005)

UGH! What a mixed bag of feelings this brings up. These are only two of the bullet points that appear on the page I read today.

I chuckled when I saw the title. I’d just listened to, and meditated on, the recording for today in the Hallow app’s PRAY40 challenge, a Lenten practice. We were asked to reflect on “What ‘junk’ do you need to remove from your heart this Lent?” My immediate reaction was GUILT! Then I decided to meditate for 20 minutes and see what arose. I saw a black darkness, then the Gollum I mentioned in yesterday’s post. I decided that I need to remove from my heart that image of myself as not good enough, bad, evil – to see myself as God sees me.

So, I was tickled to see “FIND WAYS TO UNDERSTAND AND COME TO THE LIMITS OF YOUR GUILT” at the top of the page. I was reassured by most of the author’s bullet points, especially the first one, noted above, where it says not to nurse feelings of guilt. I thought, great, I can do this, I can unpack the heaviness I carry around with me, cut myself a break.

Then I read the second one noted above…some parents ARE partly or wholly responsible for their child’s death. THAT was like a smack in the face…“You’re not getting out of this THAT easily!!!” 

I didn’t kill Joseph. He killed himself. BUT, he did it after I told him that he could no longer live in my house. I should note here, that he had made several other attempts that were not reactions to anything I said or did. And I know that not everyone will kill themselves because their mom kicks them out of the house.

I participated in an on-line suicide loss group run by David Kessler, another renowned grief loss professional. I got on live with him, one-to-one, and told him my son’s death was my fault and why. He assured me that there were likely other parents who lost a child and blamed themselves for NOT using tough love. So…none of us can help but blame ourselves.

So…IS it partly my fault? I don’t know. I do know that I worked hard at being a parent. I STUDIED to be a parent. I read books, I took courses, I talked to professionals, educators, and friends. I reached out for help wherever I could find it. 

I told him, when he moved back in with me, no alcohol, no drugs. And while I was away, he went out and got his drug of choice and used it. I found the packaging; and, I told him he’d broken our agreement. I told him my heart was broken. 

A part of me believes that he stayed as long as he did for my sake. (Although he had made previous attempts, he either reached out to someone or someone found him in time to save his life.) I think, when I said my heart was broken, it gave him permission to leave.

Another one of my children, not too long ago, after being hospitalized for a psychotic episode, said to me, “The LAST time you told someone they were homeless, they killed themselves. Is that what you want?” I had created a contract for her to return to my home. She didn’t sign it, but I told her that by returning to my home, she had, in fact, agreed to it. I tried to explain to her that I wanted her to be aware of what she needed to do in order to continue living with me, or she would be homeless, and the hospital would have to find her a place to stay. I didn’t get past the word “homeless” before she spat out that comment. She and I had been down this road before and she had lived in a group home for a while. She is back to living on her own and is working again.

So, my guilt over my son’s death is compounded by dealing with ongoing mental illness in my other children…or not dealing with it, because they won’t talk to me. In any case, the worry, and the guilt, remain.