Tag: mental-health

We Are All Buffers

by This moment Matters, posted in Uncategorized

Years ago, in the 1990’s, whilst working at one of the children’s hospices, I had an experience which had a profound impact on me.

An experience that stroked my heart with it’s wisdom whilst simultaneously undressing me and laying me bare to the immense grief of a mum, dad and sister who had just had their lives implode following the death of their son and brother.

I was visiting a family whose adolescent son had recently died at home after a long illness. This young man had been visiting the hospice for respite for a few years and I, and other members of the team had built a lovely relationship with him.

On this visit to the family home, just 2 days after his death, the family shared with me, in detail, the final hours and minutes of their sons life.

It was not easy listening for someone in their 20’s.

But it was, for me, one of the most important and profound lessons in presence and listening.

Even to this day I remember where in their living room I was sat, who was present and where they were sat, how I was sat, who spoke and who sat silent.

I didn’t ask them for such a deep share. I didn’t probe.

I just showed up.

And provided the space and right conditions for them to feel safe and held.

I was the buffer. The cushion for alleviating some of the shock and a space where their intense grief, pain and suffering, their new reality, could meet the world outside of that.

I listened.

We held hands.

We hugged.

They needed to say it out loud, for their sons final moments to be acknowledged in this way.

And they needed me to hear their grief. Their pain.

Just one of the valuable lessons I took from this was that we are all buffers. Whether we are aware of it in the moment or not.

Where our grief (and everyone is grieving in some way), trauma and suffering meets the world.

Where someone’s pain and sadness meets your smile, your compassion, your kindness.

Photo by Sindre Fs on Pexels.com

We are all buffers.

Nancy đź’š xx

When Caring Is Hard

by This moment Matters, posted in Uncategorized

There’s a good chance that we will, at some point in our lives, become unpaid carers.

Parents, siblings, friends, partners, and, if you are very unlucky, children.

The scenarios I share below are ones I have witnessed across the board – from those caring for sick children at the hospice to those caring for a grandparent.

Or perhaps we might be supporting someone who is a carer.

Being a full-time carer for someone ill, frail or elderly is hard.

For you it may be an absolute labour of love and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Or it may have been thrust upon you by life circumstances.

Either way, it can be hard at times.

And I’m not going to dress it up in flowers and positive quotes.

What a disservice that would be to you.

You will stop sharing the realities, the truth of how it is for you because you will not feel heard.

You will think you are doing it wrong.

That your love isn’t strong enough for your person.

Or you will feel like a failure.

So let’s talk about this.

Many a times you will feel like you can’t breath.

The stress of being the provider, the person who needs to make all the decisions, of having to tend even when you feel your chest is about to explode from the anxiety and grief fermenting inside,

The stress of having to get up in the night when the exhaustion barely allows your body to function.

It takes over your emotions & the overwhelming guilt of wishing it was all over weighs heavy on your heart and mind.

But, each day you get up and you go through the motions of being a carer, of tending to your loved ones needs as best you can with what you have.

And with as much tenderness and love as you can muster.

But sometimes the reserves of those are low.

Or empty.

You try not to let the emotional turmoil show but sometimes it just spills over.

Sometimes as a trickle.

Sometimes as an explosion of explicit words.

Like a valve release.

For the pressure of having to put your own needs and your own life on hold.

You struggle through days, weeks and sometimes months hoping that it will get easier, that you will get used to this new way of living when in actual fact you find yourself losing a part of yourself and it crushes you.

You can’t see an end to it.

And then you can see an end to it and that is equally as excruciating.

Visitors come and visitors go.

Supporting carers come.

And go.

And you envy that they step out of the door and back to their own lives.

Carers –

I see you.

I hear you.

And know that, no matter how much you struggle, how hard it is for you, that is not a reflection of not loving enough or not being compassionate enough.

It is not.

With so much love to you

Nancy đź’š xx

End of Life Depression

by This moment Matters, posted in Uncategorized

Let’s talk about depression at the end of life.

I’m sure you’re aware by now that I don’t sugar-coat the realities of dying and death.

If all I did was share the beautiful, calm and non-problematic dying experiences I wouldn’t be doing justice to all of you who are struggling and you may feel more isolated and worry that you are doing something wrong.

You are not.

Dying can, indeed, be beautiful and life-enriching for some and for others it can seem like a hard slog to the finish line despite the best palliative care.

Depression is a common, although not universal, psychological condition among patients at the end of life and is estimated to affect around 5 -25% of palliative care patients and many experience depressive symptoms even when not given a clinical diagnosis. In fact, those receiving palliative care may face a greater likelihood of developing or worsening a clinical diagnosis of depression due to the awareness of their limited life expectancy. If left unrecognized and untreated this may lead to more severe illness symptoms such as pain, impair their ability to find meaning in life and consequently severely affect their quality of life, the quality of their relationships and bring about a poor prognosis.

The affect on the quality of their relationships can cause great distress to family, friends and care-givers at a time when a family member who is also a care-giver may be experiencing depression themselves form the huge burden of caring and the losses they have experienced and are yet to come.

The family dynamics face a major shift.

If the situation becomes intolerable family relationships can completely break down.

So let’s begin with this – do not confuse depression with grief.

Of course those dying will experience grief at their own demise and their own losses.

Grief and depression do share some distinct qualities and this is where the difficulties can sometimes lie.

Here are some of the symptoms of depression at the end of life:

irritability

insomnia or excessive sleeping

argumentative,

tearful

changes in appetite or an increased craving for food

lack of pleasure

more or less demanding of your time

agitation

sadness or unhappiness,

decreased concentration

forgetfulness or confusion

loss of energy/fatigue

feelings of

hopelessness

helplessness

guilt

resentment

worthlessness

thoughts of death or suicidal ideation.

Depression at the end of life (or at any time of life!) can cause significant suffering.

If in doubt reach out to your care provider – your gp or hospice/palliative care team.

Please don’t ignore it hoping it will go away – it won’t without some form of intervention.

If you recognise your own experience in this, past or present, know that you are loved and that it wasn’t/isn’t your fault.

With deepest care

Nancy x đź’š x

It’s Not a Competition

by This moment Matters, posted in Uncategorized

“How d’ya think I feel!?” (emphasising the “I”).

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve heard this from either side of the relationship.

And the storm clouds gather.

Facing the end of your life after a terminal diagnosis is not easy.
Most terminal diagnosis or Life-shortening diagnosis are not short-lived illness’s but typically months and sometimes years. And it doesn’t necessarily get any easier over time if it is a long term illness such as MND, COPD, dementia or Parkinson’s.
In fact, living with the slow progression of an illness that erodes physical and mental health, independence and dignity over a period of years can be hugely difficult.
Equally, it can be incredibly difficult for the primary carer, often a partner, sibling, adult child or other family member. It can push a carer to breaking point many times. To support, to witness, to give up the life you knew or hoped for is incredibly difficult.
Even when it is done with the utmost love.
Relationships can get tense.

But here’s the thing – it’s not a competition of who has it worse.
Both are equally challenging, difficult and painful for very different reasons.
You each carry a burden.
The suffering of each of you can feel immense.

It is not easy to navigate this.
I’m not going to dress it up with niceties.
All we can do in these times of suffering is be compassionate to ourselves.
You are still husband, wife, daughter, son and you are you.
Don’t lose sight of yourself beyond the illness or caring role.
Each of you still has wants and needs independent of each other.
When you feel relationships getting fraught or, perhaps, resentment creeping in ask yourself – “what would love do here for me?”
Take a little time to sit and notice your breath – even if the only time you get is when you go to the bathroom or when your care-giver goes to the bathroom.
Remember – it is not a competition as to who is suffering most.
You are enough and you are loved.

Nancy xx

Grief Groceries

by This moment Matters, posted in Uncategorized

Grief groceries.

Earlier this week I popped out to pick up some grief groceries.

And, I’m likely to be doing another grief grocery shop in the coming days.

Now, you might be wondering what grief groceries are?

So let me share a little bit of wisdom from those grieving.

One of the many things that are said to a griever when their person has just died is “Let me know if you need anything” or “How can I help?”

But here’s the thing, when folks are grieving making decisions or even knowing what they want or need can be just far too difficult.

And this is where grief groceries comes in.

It’s not that they can’t get to the shops (some grievers are high functioning) and it’s not that they have nothing in the house.

But…

Changes in appetite are a universal component of grief, particularly in those early days.

People can lose their appetite completely or over-eat.

Keeping it simple can be helpful to the griever when the physical, mental and emotional capacity to cook diminshes.

So picking up some groceries, food that is easy to cook, some healthy goodies and practical stuff like tissues, lip balm (lips can dry and crack so easily when people are grieving, stressed and crying a lot), hand cream as a treat and for a special touch, a candle to light.

Perhaps add in a precooked home-made meal or two.

Let’s not forget some things they can snack on too and that might include some healthy and some not-so-healthy snacks.

Let us not judge their choices or impose on them what WE think they should be eating. In those early days of grief it is sometimes all a person can do to function.

If you are unable to get them any groceries how about a voucher for a takeaway that can be delivered direct to their door?

Grief groceries.

Just a little way of showing that we care at a time when we can feel so helpless.

With love

Nancy xx

Meditating in Times of Grief

by This moment Matters, posted in Uncategorized

Meditation in Times of Grief.

Those of you who have followed or participated in my teachings of meditation will know that I encourage you to explore different forms of meditation (it’s not about sitting cross-legged on a mat, laying down or emptying your mind), different styles, methods and teachings.

It is not a one-size-fits-all.

And let me tell you here that the aim of meditation is not enlightenment.

Or transcending anything.

It’s about presence.

Your practice will evolve and grow, ebb and flow, shift and change.

And when it comes to meditation in times of deep grief everything you think you know about your meditation practice flies out the window.

Because grief is not just a physical set of symptoms but is energetic too.

And it lands differently.

As it did with me some years ago.

No matter how much I thought I knew and understood about my mediation practice, when I was grieving deeply meditation became incredibly difficult.

Whatever form of meditation practice I was doing all I could do was cry.

Whether I was still or moving, whether my space was quiet or filled with sound every time my practice began I would just cry.

Actually, crying doesn’t quite cover it.

I sobbed.

Consumed by my grief.

And I became frustrated.

Defeated even.

And then I realised –

my tears, my crying, my sobbing was meditation.

And in that moment I was able to let go of what I thought meditation should look or feel like and be present with myself in a very different way.

What a powerful, profound and transformative insight that was for me.

So, if you find your meditation practice faltering or impossible during times of grief give yourself some slack.

And allow whatever it is that you are feeling to flow.

It’s not about emptying the mind, being quiet or still but feeling into your soul.

It’s not about a moving meditation practice that feels freeing and expressive but the ability to hold your body with love as it curls into a tight ball, throws fists at the floor and wails.

With warmth

Nancy xx