Good Vibes Only... Nope

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Photo by Dakota Corbin on Unsplash

I can admit that I love the idea of “Good Vibes Only.” Don’t we all? It is such a great idea. I am pretty sure I have even purchased something with this saying on it. I loved the idea of only feeding into only into positive things. I have taken pride in being the positive friend… but as I worked on myself it became clear that only feeding into some of my feelings was going to be a problem.

As I unravel the quilt of grief, I am now actually experiencing an array of emotions- which is totally normal and healthy. I have always known this and definitely had been told this my entire life, but the practice is another story. First off, differentiating some emotions and feelings as good and others as bad creates a predetermined reaction to how you are naturally feeling. And it seems as though our culture is the one who determines these reactions.

No one wants to see others sad. We wish we could say the right thing or do something to take away the pain. I think we would be more comfortable seeing anger instead of sadness. Anger is a more socially acceptable emotion. Anger means we have been wronged in some way and we can blame others. It feels good to not be accountable all of the time, especially during hard times. We can use this blame to fuel our anger. It is such a charged emotion that gets things moving. But anger is usually covering up something else.

Losing our daughter Clementine made me have to sit with sad feelings... for a long time. And as we get farther away from her birthday I am slowly coming to the understanding that this will be a lifelong practice. One of the first questions a grief counselor asked us was, “Do you blame anyone?” We hadn’t discussed this with each other yet but it was like we already knew what the other was thinking. “No, no way.” We felt very well taken care of. And what would blaming someone do? It wouldn’t bring our girl back, so what was the point? Many of our people were angry and we completely understand that. They saw us fighting for our child and then saw it taken from us. They saw us going through an experience that no one deserves to go through,

and there was nothing anyone could do. 

When I talk with others about loss I can detect those who have personal experience with grief. It’s like an instant connection, a shift in their eyes, or a subtle look they give when we recognize this sadness in each other. We are members of the same club that no one wants to be in and it sucks. Yet, seeing the pain in others also helps me feel not alone. Someone else knows what it is like to cry all night and still get up the next day. They know what it is like to venture out into the world and be scared to see anyone who knows you and what has happened. They know that feeling that pulls your heart to the floor when something simple makes you remember. They know that there was a you before this event and a different you after. They know.

I am known for being uncommonly positive. I have worked hard to always find the positive in every situation. I even recall being on the hospital bed and saying, “There will be greatness from this.” Even as my belly became a tomb I wanted to find the good vibes. I wanted everyone around me to be OK. I kept thinking if I can make them feel better then it will make me feel better. Spoiler alert: This did not work.

I am sitting with the “Bad Vibes.” I am afraid I will take them everywhere with me. What if I ruin every social situation I attempt to be in? What if I can never be the old me again? I was told that having a child changes you, but I all I can say is that losing a child does as well. There are so many unknowns. Every time I go out into the world this is my thought process and in return has caused anxiety. I am no stranger to anxiety, but mixed with grief there is an entirely new cocktail to drink. 

A bad vibe that has crossed my mind more than once since Clementine’s death is: Should I be dead, too? Will this let me be with her? Will this stop the pain? This is scary for me even to type as it makes these thoughts real. I would like to add that I do not think of ways to kill myself. I don’t feel as I will actually go through with it. But I want to acknowledge that these thoughts are present. I literally googled “When your baby dies do you think about dying yourself?” Am I normal in this? Google did inform me that, yes, I am! But shit? Really? It sucks this much? 

Not being a religious person, I don’t have that long-established foundation to fall back on. I do have faith, though.. Let that be clear. I have never thought about faith more than during this difficult time. Truly, it sounds nice to have. To fall back and have this conviction in something is real enticing. I do have my personal beliefs, but it is not in the traditional ways. I  have faith that this is about something bigger than myself and I honor and love that. 

I choose to trust in that we are not our thoughts. We can experience them but the thoughts are not what makes us.Thoughts change all of the time. Yes, we do as well, but we must find what we have true faith in and fall into that. Meditation has been a big part of this. Meditating teaches me to think of my thoughts as clouds passing by. Feelings, emotions and thoughts come and go. We can observe them but we do not need to drown in them. I am sitting with the thoughts of losing Clementine everyday, I don’t have a choice about that. But I am noticing the sadness is decreasing, overall. I still burst into tears when I am overcome with these thoughts. I still think about being with her and what that would be like. Basically, I am still dealing! And then, yesterday I was bawling with my dogs when I noticed I was smiling.  Through the salty tears I could feel something good. I can’t identify what that is, but it is there. Having these opposing emotions is quite difficult. Crying while feeling this goodness is a very conflicting experience. I have this misery that is overflowing with bubbles of euphoria.Yet, it is supposed to be like this. Life is a bundle of hopelessness and glee all at once. We swim through the water hitting waves of each. It isn’t balanced and we have to find our way through that.

I cannot have good vibes only. No one can. Life is not that simple, nor should it be.  I must ride the waves and keep going, if not for myself then for the memory of my daughter. 

Clementine’s death is not a failure. This single life event is teaching me more than I ever imagined. I am loving myself in a way that is giving me such grace. It is like falling in love with yourself all over again. I am seeing more of who I am and more of what I want out of this one life. She is showing me the darkest parts of my soul that I never knew existed. In these crevices I am finding value, importance, elegance, and the exquisite me. All of me. I wish I could have found this with her here, but this is the gift that Clementine has given me and I love her even more for it.