Reject Despair! (if only it was that easy)

In issue #55 of Dr. Strange (1974), the great sorcerer supreme is grieving because of the loss of his lover, Clea. Later in the comic, a malignant force called D’Spayre preys on this weakness. He tries to make the sorcerer give up on living in the real world, where his tragedies continue to ail him, and retreat to an “unreality.” D’Spayre’s seductive offer sounds a lot like an unhealthy coping mechanism, like people turn to drinking or drugs to escape the pains of reality. However, Dr. Strange manages to snap out of it, and “reject despair,” but for most of us, it isn’t that easy. Some of us turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms and don’t move on for years. In general, I think many of us tend to withdraw from others when we’re grieving. Maybe it’s because everyone else seems to carry on as usual, completely unaware of the loss that has shaken our world, and we can’t stand to be around people who don’t feel that same sense of despair. Maybe it’s because we’re told mourning is a solitary act, something to be done alone, so we do not reach out to others.   

Personally, however, I have yet to experience the loss of anyone close to me. My family is quite small, and while there have been a few hospital visits that have sent my heart racing, those people have all recovered. I have been very fortunate, but if I had to choose a time that came close, I would say it was when my dad was in the hospital for two weeks, recovering from a few 1st, but mostly 2nd and 3rd degree burns. Of course, my dad recovered, so this can’t compare in the same way to the death of a loved one, but the experience was traumatic. The grieving process isn't the same either, but I think the thing that helped me most was trying to do all that I could for my family. I helped out more at the house and did my best to be there for my siblings. Helping made me feel useful. 

The most draining thing was trying not to relive my dad’s accident over and over in my head. Logically, I knew I couldn’t change what happened, but that didn’t stop it from consuming my thoughts. Friends and family who visited the house only increased this train of thought. They were all kind, of course, and gave us their sympathies, but this also meant that the only topic of conversation was my dad’s condition in the hospital and how he had gotten burned.  It was unhealthy for me to be thinking about the accident all the time. I wasn’t being an active participant in my life, so I found it useful to distract myself sometimes. I hung out with a few friends, who understood that I needed a break, and during those times, I allowed myself to relax and enjoy the moment. That didn’t mean I forgot about my dad, but it did mean that I wasn’t becoming zombie-like anymore, and those moments helped me deal with the situation.