It’s been over three years now since I realized my marriage was dead, and only lately have I reached that final stage of grief—acceptance.
I’ve been seeing people online complaining about the idea that pain has a purpose. They say that sometimes, something just sucked and shouldn’t have happened. I understand that it’s important not to diminish the pain of others. Saying something trite like “It’s all in God’s plan” to someone wracked with grief may make the speaker feel good, but it probably won’t for the listener. Instead, the listener is likely to be offended, or to hate a god that would put them through what they’re in the middle of. I would argue, though, that the problem here is not that the speaker is saying something inherently wrong. I would argue that the problem is that the speaker is trying to skip ahead prematurely to that final stage of grief. Acceptance.
Acceptance is necessary to truly get over what troubled you, and to actually let go of the pain. But it seems there’s a lot of martyrs out there who want to keep hurting themselves with the denial that is so common in the early stages. Saying “it should never have happened” keeps you firmly anchored in grief. The wise Elizabeth Gilbert shares that she once asked her friend Jim MacLaren:
about whether he thought that suffering makes us into better people. He said, "Not necessarily. Not automatically. Suffering just happens, constantly and randomly, and if you don't make anything out of it, then it causes you nothing but harm — it happened to you for no reason. But suffering can also be the greatest possible invitation to transform.”
As someone with anxiety, I often get fixated on certain lines of thinking. One that’s been pretty consistent throughout my life is wondering how different my life could have been, if I could change it at such and such point. And let me tell you, this kicked up into high gear after separating from my ex. There were a handful of different points earlier in our relationship, fixed like stars in my mind, that I should have already decided to leave him. And I thought and I thought and I thought: What if I’d left after our second anniversary? What if I’d left seven years before I did? Six years before I did? Five years before I did? A month before I did? And I felt so guilty that I hadn’t left any of those times, because surely everything would have worked out so much easier and better for everyone involved if I had.
But recently I had the thought, I needed to go through this in order to seek help. And with this thought, after years of suffering grief, I think I finally found my angle into acceptance.
I’ve known the whole time that if my relationship had been any less bad, I wouldn’t have been able to bring myself to leave it. That I would have continued to stick around, being miserable, sure that if I just tried a little harder I could make it work. I needed my marriage to be every ounce as bad as it was in order for me to decide it was poison and to spit it out. Now, I’m applying that same thought more broadly. If my life had gone any less terribly, I don’t think I would have been desperate enough to seek out the wisdom others had to offer on how I could grow as a person.
As a teenager, I had an absolutely abominable experience with antidepressants and therapy. Maybe I’ll get more into specifics on this another time, but I don’t want this thought to go off the rails on me. Suffice it to say, I had developed a pretty firm belief that the whole psychology profession was a farce because it had served me so poorly. Mentally speaking, I limped around through life, convinced that no one had the knowledge of how to correct my gait.
Thankfully, I finally tripped into the darkest of pits. And from those depths, seeing the walls so high above me and knowing my bum leg was not going to help me climb out, that I was well and truly stuck on my own, I decided to try asking for help.
“The deepest wounds hold the most powerful medicine.” - Meggan Watterson
I can look back on the worst pain in my life and see there was value in it. Because it was so exquisitely painful, I set aside my disdain for the profession of psychology and went on a self-improvement campaign that has radically changed who I am. I am so proud of the person I have become, and I would never have gotten here by taking any other path.
Furthermore, if I had left my ex sooner, or had never gotten together with him in the first place, I would not be so keenly interested in writing about the subjects I write about. I’m sure that any other path I took through life would have shown me fine subjects. But, having been through what I have, I’m particularly pleased to be writing about recovering from pain, self-empowerment, and self-love. I know there are thousands if not millions of people living with the kind of pain I went through. I know that, should I put enough words out there, I might be able to help. Might be able to shine a light on my path out of it, and show them where to place their feet. I have never been one to shy away from pain taken on in order to help others, so framing my experience that way helps me to accept what I’ve been through, and gladly. Thank goodness that all that pain had a purpose.
Of course, healing isn’t linear. You may one day find acceptance, then get thrown back into the thick of the pain. I have definitely forgiven my ex, only to find myself back in anger. I’ve embraced hope, only to once again despair. I’ve been glad for my journey, only to once again wonder if there could have been an easier route. Going through the same steps and reaching acceptance again is all part of the process.
I’m not here to tell you that your suffering is part of God’s plan. I wouldn't belittle your pain that way. But I hold out hope that, when you’re ready, you will find some meaning in what you’ve experienced. That you can someday see your suffering as an invitation to transform, and, having transformed, you can find some measure of peace. Whether or not you do…frankly? Don’t belittle the meaning that I have found in my own pain.
Do you have any thoughts about the purpose of pain? Have you had bad experiences that you value today?
“With the walls of my house burned to the ground, I have a better view of the moon.” --Bashō
Sometimes we need complete desolation before we can see the beauty that always lay beyond the prisons of our minds. Even those with mild mental health issues (there is no one with none) must suffer hardship to grow. What we cannot do is spend our lives regretting. Because the very things we regret are the things that made us who we are and provide us the obstacles for growth.
I admire your strength. Most admirably, your courage to share. Keep smiling...
Wow, it is work just getting a chance to thank you for your words on grieving.
I found them insightful, and left me with a sense of curiosity, what more can I learn about myself? I've shead a few tears.
Interestingly, today acceptance came up earlier today. Food for thought.
Acceptance, someone asked Ram Daas, "how can we love ourselves more"...he said after a pause, I think the question should be; how can we accept ourselves more. Again, my thanks. Brad