The Brain and Grief: Mourning a Former Self

 The Brain and Grief

Mourning a Former Self

Part Seven

      "You're wanted in four states."  Those are not the words that you want to hear when you are standing in line at the DMV.  Let me give you a little backfill, and no, I promise you that I'm not a felon or on the lamb.  Tiff and I moved to West Virginia in 2011 and shortly after went to the DMV to change our license over.  Tiffanie's was super easy.  She walked in and within thirty minutes she had her license in hand.  Mine was a totally different story.  I went to the DMV the following day and needless to say I should have packed a lunch.  The line was LONG and people were super cranky.  I waited over three hours before they were able to take my picture.  Things seemed to be going ok except for the long wait.  But I noticed the ladies at the counter staring at the their computer and then staring at me.  They were confused.  They called me to their desk and the one sweet elderly lady said "sir, are you aware that you are wanted in four states."  I would have spit coffee out of my mouth if I had any or liked coffee.  My jaw must have dropped.  The computer showed I was wanted in Ohio, Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona.  The one in Ohio was from over ten years prior....my child wasn't in their car seat.  Needless to say I wasn't in Ohio ten years earlier....and I was only fourteen at that time.  They clearly knew that must be some sort of glitch.  So we worked together only to find out that someone, in my early teen years, stole my identity and committed quite a few crimes.  It took quite some time to clear my name and get legal documents to show that I wasn't a wanted man.  Stolen identity stinks.

      We come to our final article about the relationship that grief has with the brain.  I want to put one final disclaimer; I'm not a doctor (nor do I play one on tv), a counselor, or a therapist.  I'm a fellow grieving person who has made my pursuit understanding the inner workings of grief in order to better understand how to love fellow grieving people.

      Identity.  This is the thing that defines you, that makes you, well, you.  Each of us have a unique identity given to us by God.  We are all distinct, special, or as the Scripture speaks, fearfully and wonderfully made.  Most of us are confident in this.  We know who we are.  Prior to losing Tiff I could tell you exactly who Matt was, what made him tick, what gave him joy, etc.  But loss is like a nuclear bomb that affects all areas of life, including our identity.  Our brain takes a lot of time knowing who we are and the people that we love.  Grief causes pain at the deepest, most inner level of our brain and thinking process.  It takes the road map of what we are used to know and turns it upside down.  In my first blog I referred to this as rewiring the brain, and to some degree grief forces a brain that is built on what it sees, hears, tastes, touches, and smells each day to adapt and change.  But it takes awhile for the brain to catch up.  A grieving person's brain will search for their loved ones, even if we don't automatically register it.  Let me throw out a big word to you, neuroplasticity.  That huge word simply means that the brain has a unique ability to change and adapt, unlike other organs.  The brain, over time, creates new 'pathways' or roads by which information travels.  Now, a unique feature to this is that the brain does this WITHOUT erasing the past, but instead to build a hopeful future around our past.  I recently watched the movie Sheep Detectives with my youngest son.  The movie is a cute movie about how a group of sheep try to solve the mystery of their dead shepherd.  I won't spoil the movie, but the sheep have an ability to permanently forget things at the drop of a hat.  They seem happy to forget things, but forgetting requires a high price to be paid.  God doesn't grant us the ability to forget the treasured love of our past, but instead to embrace it and press forward with it.

      Oftentimes a grieving person will say "I don't know who I am any more."  That isn't just words, that's feelings from a place of deep seated loss.  When our loved ones die it almost feels like an anchor is pulled up and we are tempest tossed.  The grieving person starts a secondary layer of grief, they start missing the person that they used to be.  Countless times grieving men will say to me "I miss the old me."  Sadly grief changes people.  Outsiders don't quite understand how grief works.  It doesn't leave you the same.  It affects you almost down to the cellular level.  I tell each grieving person that they will change, not for the worse, not for the better, but they will be different.  You will miss certain things not just about the person you lost, but you will miss certain things about who you used to be.  Others will pressure you to be that old person, they might even make cold hearted, premature remarks.  But you aren't that person, and that's ok.  

      Another identity shift is no longer holding a title.  When Tiffanie died I wasn't her husband any longer.  Don't rush to judgment when you hear that.  Yes, I still felt like I was her husband, I still loved her like a husband, but death severed our bond on earth.  Tiff tragically became my late wife....a title that I wrestled with for a long time.  I loved being a husband.  I am a romantic at heart.  I love to spoil the woman I love.  I remember buying Tiff Chick-Fil-A sweet teas, but they had to come in a Styrofoam cup because the paper cups just didn't do the job. At times I would buy sleeves of the 'good' cups just in case.  I rarely if even stopped at Sheetz without getting her a chocolate milk, and it had to be a specific variety.  I loved giving her back massages, texting her that she was pretty, and building her up.  I ached to be a husband.  So much of my life was wrapped up in that title, and when the title faded I felt lost.  If I wasn't Tiff's husband, then who was I?  This feeling disconnects you from your normal life and can cause you reel.

      So, what can a believer do when they identity is uprooted by grief?  What do we do when our 'before self' is what we start mourning?  It is vital in that moment to remember who we are and always will be.  If you are a Christian then you can rest in knowing that you are and always will be a child of God.  John 1:12 says "but to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God."  If you have received Him, put faith in Christ, then God says you are His child.  That is your identity.  Grief strips you of certain things about yourself.  It adds a secondary layer of grief as you miss you who you used to be in certain ways.  But there are some things that grief can never take....your relationship in Christ.  Your brain may struggle, you body may falter, your faith might be limping along, but who you are in Jesus never be taken from you.  May you rest in that thought when the storm of life wages against you.