I started seeing a counselor in February when I saw B in her car again and realized where this was headed and how powerless I was to stop it. That counselor was like a love struck junior cheerleader who did little but encourage me to talk and cheer me on. Her utter uselessness was recognized by my son, Ben, when he came to a session with me after Faerin passed. I fired her in June.
Before I fired her, I did take her advice and set up an appointment with a Psychiatrist. She was nice, very efficient and we determined that I’m not in need of her chemicals to maintain my sanity. We parted on good terms after 2 visits.
But I began sessions with another counselor at a friend’s suggestion. This woman specializes in grief counseling and energy work and is perfect for me. Well, it would be nice if she accepted my insurance, but other than that…
Anyway, my grief counselor has written a book (based on another book) that asks the bereaved 3 questions. The first is – What is lost? When Faerin died, what did I lose, exactly? The second entry in my journal is titled What is lost? and reads:
I lost my friend, my fashion adviser, my partner in crime, my reason to go to Ren Fest, my masseur, my world traveler, my sunshine, my little girl.
Then it drifts…
But I didn’t realize then that I’d lost my goddess, or my ability and desire to watch TV and movies or my excuse for not doing so many things that I really should have done.
I lost the illusion that I was strong and capable of doing everything myself.
I lost the security of feeling like a good parent.
I lost the ability to ever recreate my most powerful emotional touchstones; the feeling of having all four of my children sleeping safely under my roof and the perfect day at Lake Michigan. Once you’ve experienced a pathway to bliss, it’s hard to cope with having that door slammed shut on you, forever.
I lost my interest in personal possessions. Faerin was borderline obsessive about her “stuff”, but in the end, she didn’t take any of it with her and it all looks like ordinary stuff to me. My stuff looks less and less like treasures and more and more like an anchor holding me back from being who I am supposed to be.
As it turns out, I didn’t actually lose my reason to go to Ren Fest, it just changed a bit. When Faerin died and my family rallied around me, the members of Delirio del’Arte (Faerin and Rowan’s Renaissance Festival performance troupe) were a huge part of that family. They gave me the ability to process Faerin’s death and the aftermath in the best possible way for me. They embraced me as one of their own, gave me a title and an excuse to head to the Festival every weekend. Goddess bless my idiots!
I could say I lost my way but, if I’m being honest, my way was lost years and years ago. I’m trying to find it again. I think it will be different now that Faerin’s gone. I wish I had sought it out while she was still here. I wish a million things.
I lost my taste for toxic relationships. As of right now I’ve been Facebook unfriended by my step-mother, though my father and I still chat. My mother only sends me an occasional email. I’m tired of being the adult in my relationships with my mothers, so I’m out. Until they grow up.
I lost my mind. A couple of times now. My grief counselor calls them “grief attacks” and says I’m not actually crazy when I’m incapable of speech, movement or thought – I’m just really sad.
I just wish there was a good way to explain it. Maybe I need to print up cards to pass out. “10 Things to do When Grief Attacks”? 1 – Don’t panic.
That could work.
I lost my identity. I lost my future. I lost my inhibitions. I lost my past. I lost my way.
I need to build myself back up from the ground up because everything is gone.
But what a perfect opportunity to create something extraordinary…