Five Rooms in a House

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

Do those words put together in list form remind you of anything?

No? Then what about this? Kubler-Ross model.

Some of you may have guessed the reference after two words. (You would have guessed after one word if you had had any inkling of where this post is going.) Others may have had their memory jolted with the name Kubler-Ross. For everyone else, here is the answer:

The Five Stages of Death.

There is a wikipedia link Here. Included in the link is a rebuttal by one George Bonanno^[2], professor of clinical psychology of Columbia University. Professor Bonanno claims that two decades of serious scientific research reveals no basis to support The Five Stages of Death theory.

I don't know. Considering that the only claim is that people suffering catastrophic pain/loss will pass through at least two of these stages - in no particular order - at least once, I find the claim that there is no evidence strange.

For one thing, two of the stages are at odds with each other: denial and acceptance. By definition, if you aren't accepting what has happened/is taking place, then you are denying it. And if you aren't denying it then you must be accepting it. So that means EVERYONE goes through at least one of the stages.

What about the other three? Anger. Bargaining. Depression.

I find it very difficult to believe that less than the majority of people who learn they are dying, or that someone they love is dying, or that someone they love has died, or that their spouse has filed for divorce, or that they've lost their job, or whatever catastrophic event you care to consider, does not at least get depressed about it. The two most common reactions to horrible events are anger and depression.

My personal biggie is depression. According to the Kubler-Ross model, people not only pass through the various stages, skipping some and visiting others, they may actually shift back and forth between a couple of stages.

This means one can be angry on Monday, accepting on Tuesday, angry again on Wednesday, depressed on Thursday, accepting again on Friday, depressed again on Saturday, bargaining on Sunday, and angry again on Monday.

Or some other combination.

Leaving a stage does not mean that stage is over. And entering an accepting stage does not mean it either. It may not last.

And to further complicate the idea that the theory is bogus, the theory clearly states there is no time limit. Moving from one stage to another may take weeks, or months, or even years.

I have experienced all five stages in my life at various times and dealing with various events which, in my opinion - sucked.

Denial is probably the one I understand the least. It tends to be connected to bargaining, I think, and I am a bargainer. If I'm bargaining for some kind of reversal, then I must not believe it's a "done deal". So, I have to plead Guilty to denying the truth when I don't like it at all.

Anger. Well - yeah. Of course. I can remember slamming billiard balls over the pool table. Hitting them so hard with the cue stick they actually flew off the table. Using the cue as a bat and hitting all the balls at once. Yelling at God. (It's always God we blame, isn't it?) Swearing at him. Demanding to know just what in the hell he thought he was doing anyway? Oh, yes. I have become angry when devastation strikes. Then I'm grumpy around those I care about.

Bargaining. I've already admitting to being a bargainer. My problem is I generally never have anything to bargain with. I mean, what can I offer God that he doesn't already have? Myself? He's already got that. Had it for years. I keep worrying he's in the market to trade up and a better model, or just give up and toss this one aside. Fortunately, God is more gracious and has far more patience than I'll ever know. But I still worry about it. I'm a real pain in the spiritual ass.

Depression. Hell, it's not unusual for me to be depressed when nothing has gone wrong. All I have to do is remember some trauma from my past and - whoosh! All the feelings of goodness and contentment are submerged beneath waves of emotional pain and anguish. Yes. I get depressed about catastrophic events.

Acceptance. This is a strange one. It's the one that frustrates me most. Why? Because it doesn't always stick around. I'll get to a place where I have accepted the truth of a matter, feel fine about it, and actually being to move on. Then, without warning, there I am - denying, bargaining, getting angry or depressed. Those four feelings/attitudes never seem to want to leave. But acceptance? It can hardly wait to get away from me. I think acceptance really hates me.

Part of my problem is my sensitivity. Things that other people let slide away like water from a duck's back just crush the hell out of me. It's like we all have this invisible umbrella, and for other people it sheds the water, because they're holding it properly. Somehow, I hold mine upside down, so instead of channeling all of these negative feelings away, I collect them - right on top of myself. For a person with an I.Q. many people would drool over I'm not very smart.

But the core of my problem - I think - is that I appear to define my self worth on people, things and events outside of myself. Instead of looking at myself with my own eyes, I try to see myself as others must see me. And their actions dictate far more to me than their words. So when I talk to someone who tells me I'm wonderful, but then refuses to have anything to do with me, I have to discount the words and assume there is a problem of some kind.

Whatever.

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

I'm not sure which of the five rooms I'm in, but it's quiet. So it must be either depression or acceptance. Certain actions I have taken recently suggest acceptance but, like I said, acceptance doesn't really like me. It might be depression in disguise. We're good friends.

Heart of a Fool

So. I'm posting again.

Hadn't meant to.

Didn't think I would again.

Not for a while anyway.

But here I am.

Like the battered woman returning to her abuser I come back for more punishment.

Why do people do the very thing they know is going to cause them grief?

I can't answer that.

I don't know the answer.

But I'm unhappy. In case you hadn't guessed.

Been unhappy for a few weeks now. I lost a friend.

They didn't die.

That almost would have made it easier.

They just don't like me anymore.

REALLY don't like me. And they have made it impossible for me to talk with them ever again. So I'm never going to know the reason why.

Just that it has something to do - with me.

Have you ever had someone turn on you?

Generally, it happens before they are willing to say it out loud. But you can tell. Their manner is different. All wrong. They are stiff. Resistant. Cold.

And what do they do?

They begin to look for reasons why they shouldn't like you. Why they should be angry with you. And every little thing you do and say suddenly becomes something to add to their list of complaints against you.

They blow up violently at you. Even when there's no reason. And when you ask about -

They ignore you.

Until they finally screw up the courage to do what they have wanted to do since their heart turned away - kick you away.

And it's your fault.

It's my fault.

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You know. For a person like me, and I wonder how many of us there are, losing a friend is like - dying. Or taking very ill.

When I was younger the pain just found a quiet place and went there. But now that I'm older I seem to be running out of places to hide my sorrow. And I spend the days in tears.

I remember a saying from my youth: Life Sucks, And Then You Die.

Isn't that the truth sometimes?

I shouldn't have posted. Surely there was room for this one to hide, too?

It Sounds Easy

Faith in oneself. Believing in oneself. This makes an excellent foundation for achievement and success. How man times (as an adult) have I been told to "just believe" in myself, as though this were such a simple thing to do.

I expect that for people who grew up being told, shown, and supported in doing this it IS an easy thing to do. Something that comes as naturally as breathing. And these people are completely confused, frustrated, and sometimes even disgusted, by those who "won't" do it.

What these people fail to understand is that believing in oneself begins young, not old. Not that it can't begin when one is older. It's just that it's a h*ll of a lot harder.

As adults we either use what we learned as young people to help us continue to grow, or we have to overcome what we learned as young people to grow. The child who is told by parents (especially), teachers (also important), family and friends that they are special, gifted, intelligent, entertaining, athletic, creative, stupid, useless, unloved, unwanted, is going to become an adult who believes these things deeply in their heart. And what we believe deeply in our hearts will greatly affect how we live our lives.

One of the reasons my family has been 'unhappy' with me is because I kept my son from them. We seldom visited, and only once left Son in the care of any of them. My reason (and it was my reason)? I did not want my family to do to my son what it had done to me - and itself. What I saw it do to nieces and (especially) nephews. Disguised as humor, the constant barrage of harassment would have destroyed Son. He's a gentle sort. I didn't believe in my own ability to successfully combat the environment. So I kept Son out of it. The price I paid is that I went lower and lower in the eyes of my family. A price well worth the reward.

You see, Son has something I do not. Son believes in himself.

I know I have a high I.Q. I know I have ability in this and in that. And yet I find myself held back by a very strong conviction in my soul that none of that matters. I still can't do it.

Losing a negative self-esteem is a lot like losing weight. Those not suffering have a difficult time understanding why it's so hard to change. But it is. A good many of us never do.

What's the solution?

I have only one thought. Stop looking at fat people as "fat" people. Look at them as individual people. You might find they're worthy of your friendship after all. And the same goes for the broken down. What often happens is that "fat" people don't eat so poorly when they're around people who just accept them for who they are. And the same goes for the insecure. It has been true for me anyway. When I'm talking with my friends (all online right now) I find I'm not thinking about snacking, drinking pop or second helpings. And I find myself inspired to try again after my latest failure. When I'm with people reminding me of my weight and my failures all I want to do is find a place to hide and eat a bowl of chips with a liter of Pepsi.

My friends have not made me thin (yet). Nor am I a stalwart of confidence. But I do like my friends. They make me happy. Which is something I relish far more than success.

Heck of a Week

This week has gone surprisingly well. Mostly. We did hear that Spouse's niece's son, a five-year-old, took seriously ill. They brought him to the local doctors, who weren't able to diagnose him properly. Neither did they recognize the seriousness of the illness until it had become frightening. The poor little guy developed pneumonia. Fortunately, they were only an hour away from Children's Hospital in St. Paul, which takes all children - even when the parents can't afford health insurance. They had to drain the fluid from his lungs, but we received an email today that the procedure went well and he's recovering nicely. Don't know when he'll be out of the hospital.

Threats to our children. I cannot think of anything which frightens me more than when Son has been sick. When he went to the hospital as an infant I wasn't able to speak. When we had to call 911 because he was coughing so hard he started to bleed, it was all I could do to keep myself from racing in a panic. There is no fear like the fear of losing a child. There just isn't. For those of you without children - you're lucky. And unlucky at the same time. There is also no love like it.

But other than that the week was filled with good news. For one thing, lots of unexpected money came our way.

It began when a friend of ours who had left the state felt led to send us a large sum of money in the mail. She wrote that when she was wiped out someone had taken care of her, and now she wanted to pass on the blessing. She gave us two hundred dollars! I was stunned. Spouse broke down and cried. This was the friend Spouse withdrew from when she announced she was lesbian. But she remained a friend anyway, and eventually Spouse learned to deal with things. I'll say her name is Wealote, because I've never known anyone by that name, but it has the same meaning as the real person. Wealote is probably one of the kindest and most generous people I know. You know, it's funny, but thirty-one years ago Wealote had wanted to marry me, too. Spouse was just more aggressive. (She lost by winning.) Maybe that's Wealote's motivation. It's her way of telling Spouse, "Thank You."

What was interesting about this money was there was a chance we would not get it. Wealote send the money in cash. And the postal delivery person put it in the wrong mailbox. And the people who received it opened it. Had they kept the money we would not have known anything about it until Wealote contacted us again. And we would never know who wound up with the money. But even here amongst the poor there is a code of honor which people follow. The card - with the money - was slipped under our door during the night.

The same day we got Wealote's money we received two other things in the mail. One was from my mother, who sent twenty-five dollars. For a person on a fixed income that is a lot of money.

Still the same day we received a refund check from the heart clinic. Turns out the heart echogram thing that the insurance I still had last year wouldn't cover didn't cost as much as we wound up paying. We got a check for another twenty-five dollars.

And then today we got another refund. This time from the house. Since we lost the house the insurance company refunded us for money we had paid ahead of time for covering it. That was another five hundred and twelve dollars.

So we got a lot of money this week. God does take care of us. But in my mind and heart that means more than money. The love behind the money, and this means Wealote and my mother.

And, to be completely honest, there is also a shame in needing the generosity of others. Maybe it's good to feel the shame and maybe it isn't. I don't know. It is good to feel loved.

That I do know.