Art of Angela DeRiso

After my post on dealing with family estrangement after family deaths, I realized that the grief itself is worth discussing. Its affects are far reaching both on a mental and physical level. Even years later, I’m only now really understanding what the process did to me. I figured I would share my experiences here so that others facing similar ordeals might find something to relate to. It can be helpful to not feel so completely alone during the times when grief has taken hold, or even when its been present for a long time.

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Shock & Despair

When all the walls are closing in on you, and you have no escape to any thought of “It’ll be ok.”. This is the moment when the sense of dread settles in. A sense of unreal-ness falls over you, as if you are watching someone else’s life. After my Dad died suddenly, I went numb. I couldn’t properly cry until about 8 months later. I know now that this is disassociation.

For me, there were a few other moments like this. One example, my Dad’s funeral had just finished a day prior, and my sister came home with an immediate hateful attitude toward me. A lot of unkind words were thrown at me. Looking for support, I called a so-called friend to come by. Instead of a supportive friend, a get a person who sided with my sister. So, I ended up with two people yelling and talking down to me in the worst possible moment of my life.

After that, my trust in people was pretty damn low, so I had very few people I trusted at the time. It will never not amaze me the amount of people that will pick the worst times in someone else’s life to make things about themselves. Instead of communicating clearly, they lash out when they can’t stand to be vulnerable, or if they already dislike the person in some way.

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The Anger

This was a part of grief I didn’t expect. I was angry at the fact that my Dad was gone forever, and that I’d been left behind without him. While my anger wasn’t directed at anyone, it was still something my body felt. I wanted to punch holes in the wall, throw, and break things. I got pissed every time someone would say things like “Everything happens for a reason” or “His death was a gift”, as if that would take any of my sadness away. I grew angry with family members who expected my Mom and I to go on as if nothing had happened. We were caring for my Grandparents (Her parents) during that time, and received little help from others. There were also petty disputes over what would be inscribed on my Dad’s headstone, and I had to witness my Mom breakdown over the phone trying to stand up for herself as a wife and next of kin. While years have dulled the hot anger I once had, the coals are still smoldering for what they put us through.

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The Sadness of What Will Never Be

More recently, I’ve noticed myself experiencing a different sort of grief. For 17 years since my Dad’s loss and the family estrangement that followed, I shut myself down emotionally and went into autopilot mode. It was a means of survival as a result of the experiences at that time and the toxic interactions with family members who couldn’t have cared less. While I do blame them for their behavior and petty, hateful actions, I can’t entirely blame them for how I reacted. My body and mind decided it was best to shutdown and simply focus on survival and getting things done in the moment. Even this reaction was subconscious in some ways, and I may not have realized what I was doing to myself.

For those years, I worked short-term dead end jobs, helped my Mom and Grandparents how I could, and mostly stayed to myself. I didn’t go out of my way to socialize or do anything big. I simply survived and played it safe, because if I couldn’t trust my own family members, then how could I trust anyone else?

When I look back on that time, I see someone who might’ve acted to better themselves, go out and mingle, establish deeper relationships, and build a career that would last. I didn’t do any of that because deep down, I was too fearful of more disappointment and pain. When I think back on all that time, I hate myself for squandering it. But, maybe it’s just that my mind wasn’t prepared to open itself back up again. I know I’ll have to forgive myself for that eventually, and that will be a process. Sometimes, people get a different timeline of events than everyone else. At least, that’s what I’ve heard here and there. I have to learn to let go of the idea of the timeline I had in mind for myself, and be okay with the fact that things will be different for me. Making peace with the loss of time and experience is something I will need to grapple with.

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The Grieving of Previous Expectation

Another thing I put on my own shoulders was to be a successful artist. It’s one of the hardest things to do, and there is no end to the competition out there. As a child, people would say things like “Hey, remember me when you get famous”. Comments like that weren’t bad by themselves, but I internalized those ideas, believing that was what I was supposed to do. As an adult, the fact that I haven’t made a living through my art weighed on me in a way that made me feel like a failure. The truth is, I’m not a failure. I’m just a regular adult struggling in the real world, and that is already a tough thing. The expectation of success, or building a name are things I placed on myself. We are our own worst enemies, and unfortunately, I was good at that.

The main thing I’m coming to accept is that I don’t have to be anyone special, I just have to be Angela. Yes, I’ve developed an ability for about 25 years, and that counts for something. People still admire and sometimes purchase my work. It isn’t steady, but it can still build over time. I have to accept that life is a journey full of unknown results, and that I can’t be as hard on myself anymore.

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Conclusion

If you or someone you know has suffered with grief, and there are many kinds, let me know. I’d love to read and share others’ experiences. One of the things that has helped me through these periods of grief is knowing that others have also endured them. I don’t mind sharing my own, and hearing someone else’s. Drop a comment if you like.