The 10 Biggest Lies I Told Myself When My Son Died

The unimaginable is only compounded by the untrue.

grieving woman Olga Pink / Shutterstock
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As a military psychologist who works with returning warriors dealing with the effects of losing someone close to them, I found that stages of grief are a myth.

When my own son was killed, I lied to myself. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross got close when she talked about the characteristics of grief being denial, anger, depression, and bargaining. I have yet to find complete acceptance.

Grief research does not support distinct stages but suggests that grief is a combination of feelings, actions, and biological changes.

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Here are the 10 biggest lies I told myself when my son died:

1. You will stop grieving after a year has passed

I wish it were true but it’s not likely. Everyone is on a different timeline. When my son died, I didn’t want to feel better. The one-year anniversary was an extremely difficult time and yes, I felt relief, but I continue to grieve.

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2. You are mentally ill if you are seeing dead people

No way. Seeing your loved ones means you are missing them. Possibly, you have unfinished business with them or possibly, you were not prepared for them to leave.

Seeing them means you care. No one knows how this happens because no one has the answers to life’s most difficult questions.

A corollary to this is, "That superstitious stuff is weird." Not so. Hearing your name called, finding a dime, seeing a butterfly, or hearing a special song at a key moment is not superstition.

It is a relationship, a way of continued contact that fills you with hope. As a psychologist, I can explain it away, but as a father, I don’t need an explanation.

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3. Stop crying, you will feel worse, and you look weak

Wrong. Crying, regardless if you are a man or woman, is a healthy function that purges your body of toxins.

It may seem unsettling to see someone cry but it is their way of dealing with the pain. Let them.

4. No one knows your pain

Not quite. I feel a bond with others who experienced the loss of a child as if we are part of a unique club. It feels good to be around them because they know that words are sometimes meaningless and a hug is what I need.

I also have friends who don’t even have children, and they also understand. While no one knows exactly what I am feeling, when people try, I feel validated.

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5. You need to get right back up on the horse

Forcing yourself back into a schedule is not always the best thing to do. I tried to return to work but I just wasn’t ready so I found other ways to be productive.

Returning to my previous schedule was disastrous for me. I changed and I didn’t want to go back to my old world.

RELATED: Why You Need To Stop Letting Others Tell You How To Grieve

6. The world is unfair

Not really, but the world isn’t fair, either. The world just is. And it is up to you to decide what you are going to do about it.

Are you going to drink yourself sick? Are you going to seclude yourself in your house? Or are you going to recognize how short, precious, and meaningful it is?

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7. You are selfish if you want to die

This was a tough one for me. It is not uncommon to want to be with your loved one. You hurt, you want the hurt to end but more importantly, you want to be with them.

Your apathy about life does not always mean you are going to try nor does it mean that you're selfish. Life has just been extremely hurtful, it makes sense that you would not want to be hurt again.

It does mean that you need to talk about it with someone who understands.

RELATED: How To Get Through Grief When You're Feeling Hopeless After Losing Someone You Loved

8. You shouldn’t be angry with God

Wrong. God was angry when his son died and he was angry when my son died. You can be angry too.

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It takes time to work through your anger and to recognize that with the freedom God gave us came the possibility of bad things happening.

9. Praying is pointless because they died anyway

Wow, I totally get this but it’s a lie. I didn’t pray for months but when I did, something happened. I started to connect, I started to feel grace. I started to forgive. I started to deal with my anger.

I talked about it, and now I reach out to others. Now I have a story.

RELATED: I Wrote The Book I Wish Someone Had Given Me In The Depths Of My Grief

10. You are not getting better

This may be the biggest lie. Look at where you are today compared to yesterday, compared to last week or last year. Small steps. You will have setbacks but you are getting better.

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And here is one lie I put in a class all by itself: "It's my fault."

It's natural to feel responsible. Sometimes it's called survivor guilt. Sometimes it's called being a parent. Often the people who do the best feel the worst guilt.

It should be the opposite, but the people who are the closest tend to feel the greatest pain. Regardless of the situation, we often feel that somehow if we did something different, the person would be alive today, even if we are not even in the same state.

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We do not choose death, it chooses us.

The truths that you need to remember are these:

You will never be the same. This is not a myth, but it is your choice if you want to be better. And it will take time. Give yourself that time. Yes, you may always have a hole in your heart but seeing new life, and seeing growth in the world around you will give you hope.

You have a purpose. Yes. Yes, yes, yes. You now have a story.  And the world needs to hear it.

RELATED: The Reality Of Losing My Brother & Grieving With My Parents

Dr. Andrew Davidson is a Board Certified Clinical Psychologist with more than 20 years of dealing with military members and their families, relationship issues, grief, and bereavement. He's the author of When Sunday Smiled: Walking Through Life and Loss.

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