I've been meaning to write about this for a while. Then something, mostly life gets in the way. This week has brought it back and its been on my mind all week. One because I finally caught up on stranger things but also after watching the UFC this past weekend. Tenuous links I know but I'll explain.
I'd never had a run in with my mental health before Hannah was diagnosed with Cancer. At least I never thought I had. I'd dealt with grief in the past, and that definitely affected me. But nothing on the scale of processing all of that and then dealing with life without her. For the most part I've always been happy go lucky. I am good now mostly. I listen to me body, I know when I am pushing to much, when to rest, and for the absolute most part I'm in love with life again. Don't get me wrong, I'd change plenty if I could but that's part of the solution, you can only control what you can control. The hardest part after that is controlling how you react to the things you cant control.
This is all progress. I feel better. I do still have worries. Nora is approaching seven and that trips fresh memories and also anxiety. The sooner we get past that milestone full of health the better. But overall life is good for us.
This is in contrast to how I feared things might play out in the future, especially in those quiet moments after she died. I was worried about how I would be, how Kate would be and how that all would affect Nora. I've always liked a little a drink, and there were fears of alcohol. I had fears of being destructive, of our marriage falling apart. Bella was never on the radar at that point.
But that's not the case. Its not the reality in the Dad's I know in similar situations. I see them. I see them living and doing well and smiling and happy. I know its not easy but there they are.
Then I got thinking about why I thought that back then and you have only to watch TV to understand it. The amount of times there is a TV show with an under story around one of the characters and typically it involves the loss of a child. Then said character is typically destructive, has a drink problem. Has parted ways with his wife and typically that relationship is sour as hell. Over and over.
Maybe now I've pointed it out, you are probably thinking, 'oh yeah, he's right'. I am right, its all over the place. It was even on Stranger things this season too. That was the understory to why Jim Hopper has been a bit of a dick all these years.
Every time it happens Kate and I look at each other and its a shake of the head that says nothing more than 'oh fuck off.'
Its not true. Its not grief. It's damn well insulting. It offends me and it makes me angry for the parents I know out there that are trying their best to be happy. Sure maybe not having another child to live for makes it harder, I'm also sure injustices in grief must also unbearable. There are levels to this I know. But it is consistently wrong and it is consistently the absolute worst case scenario.
There has been one instance of a character displaying grief and it was played by Shaun Dooley. Shaun and I went to the same High School - or at least his sisters definitely did - so I always like seeing him on TV. There's a warmth that comes from seeing kids from my world doing well for themselves.
In this series he played a detective, another one of those slick BBC or ITV dramas from the UK that span about 6 episodes. A typical murder mystery where the main character has an under story revealed slowly through the course of the episodes.
In this particular one the detective had lost his kids. I cant remember if it was the typical cancer or an accident. It doesn't matter. The key was how the grief was portrayed and how it was acted by Shaun. It was hidden subtly in quiet moments. A deep breath here and there while at work and then one particular scene where he was at home, listening to his music and having a quiet weep at pictures with a glass of wine.
That was it. That was grief. Finally I associated with a portrayal of how I felt, how I act. Probably how all those other Dad's act. Shaun nailed it.
The difficult moments were hidden. His grief, although public, was hidden. he was functioning detective and living his life. I tweeted Shaun to say thanks.
This isn't to say I'm unaffected by everything we all went through. I'm absolutely different to the person I was in early 2017. There are things I no doubt do differently, and react to now, because of things that happened.
But why does the narrative on TV make it feel different for everyone else. Why tell everyone this is how you think grieving parents should act. Why normalize destructive behavior in grief. Why even make people feel the way they do after watching it.
I feel like its someone's perception of what losing a child must be like. Yes, it is absolutely the worst thing that can happen to a person. Of that I am convinced. But give those grieving families some credit. Tell the stories of hope, tell stories of the families who create charities to help others. Tell me about the Dad's living their lives and honoring their kids.
Its the same with extreme mental health and those that sadly lose their lives because of it. I watched Paddy Pimblett fight on Saturday and he poured his heart out after he won. One because of a four year old he had befriended who had sadly died from a brain tumor. But also because he had recently lost a friend to mental health.
Paddy's response was pure and it was from the heart and it was said with all the sincerity in the world. It was clear as day. What he did there, opening his heart to millions will have had a positive effect on many I am sure.
He's absolutely right. Men do need to communicate more, men do need to share their feelings and we need to normalize that it is absolutely okay to not be okay. Paddy called on lads to open up when they don't feel like there is a way out. Honestly, please listen to that advice.
Also though, and just as important, we need role models. We need people to share, we need their stories to be shared. Tell me stories about people who have recovered. Tell me stories about how they did it, who, and how they helped them, and normalize that process.
TV shows play their part too. Too often its the aftermath of it rather than the recovery because for whatever reason drama must be utterly depressing. It doesn't have to be this way.
That's why I felt full of terror for the future after Hannah died. As if the prospect of living without her wasn't terrifying enough. But I had been mostly conditioned to feel that way. In the end it wasn't the way. I had Dad's reach out to me. Grieving Fathers from all over world reach out to me and tell me how they were doing. Giving me insight into what I had to navigate and ultimately giving me hope.
More of that please. More stories of hope. More sharing and normalizing how fragile we can all be and how there can always be a way forward.
My thanks to those Dad's. Some of them are friends. Hopefully they know who they are. People like me need people like you.
With Hope In Your Heart x
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