"Everything happens for a reason." -Someone who has never mourned.
This dangerously misled and shallow misinterpretation of life is nothing less than emotional, spiritual, and psychological violence. It is nothing less than utter bullshit.
Whether you are mourning the loss of a loved one or a failed relationship or your lost health, this is the last thing you want to hear but it will be said to you. Someone out there with their incredibly naive perception of reality and Pollyanna outlook on your tragedy will utter this bullshit in response to your pain.
"Everything happens for a reason," "God has a plan," "This pain will make you a better person," and all your other painful paradoxical platitudes will not make it easier for me to watch my life shift in response to my lost health. All you are doing with these phrases is replacing my grief with unsolicited advice.
Now, I'm not saying that I do not recognize that I have grown immensely as a person since I got sick. I'm not saying that I didn't see wonderful changes in my life in the aftermath of my diagnosis. I am not blind to the beauty of the love that blossomed in the wake of my illness. But that does not mean that I had to go through this to grow or see change in my life or feel loved. I look around my life and I see hundreds of people growing and changing and finding love, and not a single one of them has a brain tumor. So why would I have to have this experience to have the same result that they did without any of my pain. So when you say "everything happens for a reason" I hear "You got sick so that you could grow, but I am not sick and I will still grow. But you should still graciously accept this unfair reality."
Although, I'm not an overtly religious person, I do graciously accept the prayers people say for me. That doesn't mean that I can feel the same comfort in the sentiment that "God has a plan." Okay, let's entertain the thought that God planned this: He has a plan and I'm part of it. This plan includes me getting sick and losing out on opportunities that I work hard for. What's the lesson there? Am I a pawn to teach those around me to be grateful? Am I suppose to wait here patiently while his plan plays out and I have no control over it? Am I suppose to throw out my plans? Cause I had plans. What about my plans? Maybe some people take comfort in the idea that God is steering the ship, but when you are watching your own plans fall apart in response to a debilitating illness, being told that it is because someone else has a better plan, doesn't bring much comfort. I already feel helpless and losing control of my own plan doesn't help.
Now maybe you can see that I've become a better person in this pain, that is your explanation for why this happened. I know that I have exemplified more patience and resilience than ever before during these past months. You might see me developing strength in response to this hurdle. But you do not see how angry I am. You don't see how cynical my view of the world has become. You don't see the self loathing I have developed. This is the other side of grief. Maybe I've grown as a person, or maybe I've just changed. Change isn't always positive and I know, from every time I've spitefully watched my healthy friends and felt uncontrollable jealousy, that my change has not been all positive. And to be honest, I resent the idea that you believe the only way I could become a better person was in response to a brain tumor.
So put away your platitudes. If you ask me how I am doing and I give you an honest answer, if I unload some of my pain on you, if I trust you with my burdens, do not give me advice. Allow me to grieve and grieve with me. Step inside the dark shadow I'm grieving in and feel it with me. I'm not asking you to help me indulge in self-pity or destructive depression. I promise, I will wake up the next day and continue fighting the good fight, but in that moment, if I am telling you that I am grieving, do not try to fix it. Some things in life cannot be fixed, they can only be carried. So help me carry this. And if you can't offer me anything but advice and solutions, understand that I will have to let you go in these moments of pain. I need people in my life, not platitudes.
This dangerously misled and shallow misinterpretation of life is nothing less than emotional, spiritual, and psychological violence. It is nothing less than utter bullshit.
Whether you are mourning the loss of a loved one or a failed relationship or your lost health, this is the last thing you want to hear but it will be said to you. Someone out there with their incredibly naive perception of reality and Pollyanna outlook on your tragedy will utter this bullshit in response to your pain.
"Everything happens for a reason," "God has a plan," "This pain will make you a better person," and all your other painful paradoxical platitudes will not make it easier for me to watch my life shift in response to my lost health. All you are doing with these phrases is replacing my grief with unsolicited advice.
Now, I'm not saying that I do not recognize that I have grown immensely as a person since I got sick. I'm not saying that I didn't see wonderful changes in my life in the aftermath of my diagnosis. I am not blind to the beauty of the love that blossomed in the wake of my illness. But that does not mean that I had to go through this to grow or see change in my life or feel loved. I look around my life and I see hundreds of people growing and changing and finding love, and not a single one of them has a brain tumor. So why would I have to have this experience to have the same result that they did without any of my pain. So when you say "everything happens for a reason" I hear "You got sick so that you could grow, but I am not sick and I will still grow. But you should still graciously accept this unfair reality."
Although, I'm not an overtly religious person, I do graciously accept the prayers people say for me. That doesn't mean that I can feel the same comfort in the sentiment that "God has a plan." Okay, let's entertain the thought that God planned this: He has a plan and I'm part of it. This plan includes me getting sick and losing out on opportunities that I work hard for. What's the lesson there? Am I a pawn to teach those around me to be grateful? Am I suppose to wait here patiently while his plan plays out and I have no control over it? Am I suppose to throw out my plans? Cause I had plans. What about my plans? Maybe some people take comfort in the idea that God is steering the ship, but when you are watching your own plans fall apart in response to a debilitating illness, being told that it is because someone else has a better plan, doesn't bring much comfort. I already feel helpless and losing control of my own plan doesn't help.
Now maybe you can see that I've become a better person in this pain, that is your explanation for why this happened. I know that I have exemplified more patience and resilience than ever before during these past months. You might see me developing strength in response to this hurdle. But you do not see how angry I am. You don't see how cynical my view of the world has become. You don't see the self loathing I have developed. This is the other side of grief. Maybe I've grown as a person, or maybe I've just changed. Change isn't always positive and I know, from every time I've spitefully watched my healthy friends and felt uncontrollable jealousy, that my change has not been all positive. And to be honest, I resent the idea that you believe the only way I could become a better person was in response to a brain tumor.
So put away your platitudes. If you ask me how I am doing and I give you an honest answer, if I unload some of my pain on you, if I trust you with my burdens, do not give me advice. Allow me to grieve and grieve with me. Step inside the dark shadow I'm grieving in and feel it with me. I'm not asking you to help me indulge in self-pity or destructive depression. I promise, I will wake up the next day and continue fighting the good fight, but in that moment, if I am telling you that I am grieving, do not try to fix it. Some things in life cannot be fixed, they can only be carried. So help me carry this. And if you can't offer me anything but advice and solutions, understand that I will have to let you go in these moments of pain. I need people in my life, not platitudes.
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