Why cry?

Why cry? It's normal and healing, right? It releases toxins in the body. It cleanses our soul and releases stress, anxiety, anger and sadness. It's normal.

Perhaps we don't cry enough, being taught that it is a sign of weakness. But we also cry at happy events when our emotions are triggered to new heights. Some of us cry when we laugh long and hard. I know I do and I don't know where it's coming from.

According to an article in Psychology Today crying can be extremely healing with one caveat: If we self-criticize while crying our eyes out, it does no good at all. That's why we all know some people who cry and cry and cry and never get any better. They are telling themselves negative messages like:

"I'm a loser and that's why I didn't get the job."

"My boyfriend left me because I'm fat and stupid."

"I don't deserve to have any friends."

"I'm just too sensitive."

Instead,  the article reminds us, "speak only kind words to yourself" when you're crying such as
 “I’m sorry” and “I’m with you” and “I love you." We don't say these things to make us stop crying we say them to be compassionate to ourselves.

What a concept! Be compassionate to ourselves.

So many of us are empathetic with others, we forget to do the same when we need it. We berate and negate our feelings and stop crying, especially in public.

The scientific community is studying our tears. In a research project completed by Lauren Blysma, a PhD student at the University of South Florida in Tampa, she and her colleagues describe what we should and shouldn't do around someone who is in crying mode.

•  Be aware that if you do nothing, you can make the crier feel worse.
• Try to do something supportive. What that is depends on the situation and how well you know the person, For example, hugging someone you aren't very close with might not be appropriate, while simply listening in an empathetic way would be suitable.
• Don't assume you know how to comfort them. 'The less intimate the relationship, the more it is appropriate to begin by asking how you can help and be supportive.
• Know that criers who tear up in a very large group generally feel more uncomfortable than those who cry in front of one or two people they're familiar with. But even in a large group, the criers welcome support from those they didn't know well.

I've participated in drum circles and find them so empowering and healing. How about we form a circle of tears and just let it all out! We can drum at the same time if we want but it's a different kind of "sweat lodge," don't you think? We expel the bad through good old fashioned crying and it's not as hard to build and bear like a traditional and viable Native American sweat lodge. 

Who's with me?

Tangled Webs

Oh what a tangled web we weave,

When first we practise to deceive!

Sir Walter Scott, Marmion, Canto vi. Stanza 17.

Scottish author & novelist (1771 - 1832)  

Well, why not? It's nearly Halloween and I want to talk about metaphorically tangled webs. Deception and lies weave pretty nasty webs ... of confusion at best and ruin at worst. 

According to an article in Psychology Today, a 2010 study revealed the following: 

(1) The average number of lies told per day by an individual is 1.65. 

(2) Only about 400 of the sample 1000 participants reported telling a lie in the past 24 hours.

... and that's excluding the politicians, of course. (my words).

We're a bunch of liars and we know it. But why do we lie, cheat, scheme, and scam? In another article found in the online magazine Real Simple, one doctor of philosophy explains it this way:

"The tendency to tell tales is “a very natural human trait,” explains David L. Smith, Ph.D., associate professor of philosophy at the University of New England, in Biddeford, Maine. “It lets you manipulate the way you want to be seen by others.” 

Ah, manipulation. What else could it be? The one of six reasons people lie that struck me most was this one: Lying to Make Oneself Feel Better (click on Real Simple link above for more.)

Some want attention or are feeling lonely and will complain about aches and pains that do not exist. Others simply want to reassure themselves and might tell a self-serving lie (I graduated from ABC University. No, I've never been fired. The check's in the mail.) But, says Jenna McCarthy, the article's author "when people start to believe their self-deceptions, it can snowball, which is especially dangerous."

I'm dealing with a huge snowball right now (not of my making) and it isn't comfortable, pretty, or pleasant. I am the bug trapped in the spider web and I'm trying to get out. It will take time.

Oh time, time, time. If we had unlimited time, all would be possible. I'm just impatient. And that's no lie.

Back to the Basics!

Those of us with chronic illness are constantly challenging ourselves to get through the day. With the recent trauma of losing my brother to suicide, I have to check myself all over once more.

Will I go into a Lupus flare? Will my gastroparesis act up and make me unable to eat? Will I lose precious sleep? Will my headaches return? Will my joints hurt more than usual? Will I fall into a depression? Do I have to increase/decrease medications and supplements?

Can I take a shower today and not exhaust myself? Can I cook a meal? Can I go grocery shopping? Can I walk the dog? Can I, can I can I? And what about my ever-present To-Do List that is growing and growing and growing!

So it's back to the basics for me. Once again a Wiley Coyote anvil has fallen on my head and I have to start with 'activities of daily living' like getting out of bed, showering, and dressing. I have to start at square one. I've been here before and I know you have, too.

Chronic, unrelenting illness is not insurmountable if we change how we look at things; perhaps, turn them upside down. In Psychology Today, a writer suggests a NOT-TO-DO list. What a concept?

Toni Bernhard, J.D. a former professor at the University of California and the author of How To Be Sick has compiled a wonderful list of NOT to dos like:

• DO NOT say 'yes' to an activity if your body is saying 'no.'
• DO NOT wait until the last minute to get ready for something.
• DO NOT strive for a spotless living environment.
• DO NOT speak unkindly of yourself.
• DO NOT wear uncomfortable clothes. (Yeah. I can feel the little rough fabric pills inside sweat pants or pajamas and always wear them inside out. They hurt!)

And one that I like best is DO NOT think about pleasures from your pre-illness life, freeze them in time, and assume they'd be as much fun today. They just can't. 

Her point is that everyone's life is constantly changing and rearranging itself. As she says: "Relationships change, job conditions change, and bodies change" for both the healthy and the ill. All of us have to adjust and readjust and sometimes it's a daily thing. 

Will I adjust and settle into yet another 'new normal?' I believe I will, in time. I took a very long, fast-paced walk today (with my trusty little dog, Shadow by my side) to see if I could catch up to what I had attained before my brother died. It has been five weeks and I'm not even close. But I tried. 

The anvils will continue to fall and, like you, I will bear the brunt of them - slowly, with compassion for myself, and with a new NOT-TO-DO list ingrained in my brain. 

FIGHTING TO LIVE: When does the pain become too much?

I often write about pain, both physical and emotional. Those of us who have survived life-changing traumatic events or suffer from chronic illness (or both) endure our fair share of pain.

But when does pain reach a level that is beyond our endurance? When do we know?

My dear brother, Stephen Lyon Crohn, knew and now it is public. As reported in the The New York Times, he took his own life. "The Man Who Couldn't Catch AIDS" was still susceptible to a lot of everyday things that cause searing pain. Of course the story has gone viral and, not surprisingly, the 'haters' (as my son calls them) are leaving comments of questionable taste and accuracy. It is taking quite a bit of strength for me not to register and sign in to all these 'news' and other sites and leave comments of my own. But I won't take the bait.

How my brother died is vastly less important to me than how he lived. His sheer love of life during the 66 years he was here with us was the wonderfully contagious thing about him. You can see it in his art. You can read it in his words. You could feel it in his 'snuggle hugs' as one of his friends described them. This world is, indeed, a better, more beautiful place because he was here.

Living With Pain

But I want to know how we continue to fight to live with our tragedies and traumas and the hurts that accompany them? How do we choose life day after day? Simply put, there is no easy answer.

In a September 2011 article in Psychology Today, Shawn T. Smith, Psy.D. explains:

"There is a certain kind of thinking that fuels suicide, and for most of us it is a terribly difficult idea to sit with: suicide is problem-solving behavior. In the mind of someone considering suicide, the act may seem like an expeditious and effective way to eliminate pain."

My brother was an extremely logical thinker. He was that 'problem-solver.' And while his logic in the case of deciding to take his life, may have been flawed, it led him to a conclusion that felt right for him.

Smith continues:

"The thought of suicide most often occurs when a person feels they have run out of solutions to problems that seem inescapable, intolerably painful, and never-ending."

We all have problems that seem insurmountable at times. My brother was no different. To respect his eternal privacy, I will not outline the WHYS and HOWS of his final act. Many are asking (rudely) and he left some answers; but they are not for me to reveal. It is my job to help my family and I heal. 

There are a number of resources for people who are thinking of suicide: Hotlines, websites, support groups and each begin with CALL SOMEONE or 911. Of course, we ask why my brother did not make that one last phone call. Why didn't he reach out before... But we've learned he had his reasons. We have to accept his choice. Enough said. 

Now, though, we find we are the sufferers. According to supportaftersuicide.org:

"Many people bereaved by suicide feel alone and isolated. The silence that surrounds the issue of suicide can complicate the experience. Because of the social stigma surrounding suicide, people feel the pain of the loss, yet may not believe they are allowed to express it."

Ayup. It's just awful. I visit his website daily - Crohn Studio - and I check his Facebook page for new messages that might make me breathe more easily, ease the lump in my throat and close the hole in my heart. My sister and I decided to create a Facebook memorial page soon. In the meantime, we field phone calls from reporters and friends, colleagues and admirers, family and old school chums from grade school. He certainly left an indelible mark.

Irreconcilable Differences 

I would be lying if I said it wasn't difficult for me to reconcile how I fought to live, died to live, and still take one step in front of the other every day with painful, frustrating remnants of cancer treatment, Lupus and chronic illness. My brother stopped stepping up the stairs. I have to remember that it was his choice; maybe not my choice, but a choice nonetheless.

Looking for quotes on living and treasuring life, I found some inspiration in words attributed to George Washington Carver, a former slave who became a celebrated inventor, botanist and chemist until a tragic fall down the stairs led to his death at age 78.

"How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak and strong. Because someday in your life, you will have been all of these."

My brother was all of these. I guess the last person he could be tender with was himself. Or was he? 

Part of Carver's epitaph could be my brother's own:

"HE COULD HAVE ADDED FORTUNE TO FAME BUT CARING FOR NEITHER, HE FOUND HAPPINESS AND HONOR IN BEING HELPFUL TO THE WORLD"

This is how I will remember him. This is how I will honor him. This is how I will choose to go on.

Gravestone of George Washington Carver