Title: How to Survive the Loss of a Love
Author: Melba Colgrove with Harold Bloomfield and Peter
McWilliams
Date: 1976, 1991
Publisher: Bantam
ISBN: 0-553-07760-0
Length: 212 pages
Illustrations: a few vintage woodcuts
Quote: “It's hard to look back on any gain in life that does
not have a loss attached to it.”
In this book, the authors attempt to guide everybody through
every conceivable kind of “loss,” specifically including bereavement, divorce,
unemployment, violent crimes, changes of address, illness, graduation, “success
(the loss of striving),” midlife, retirement, lawsuits, and waiting for test
results—all of this, using the end of a romantic infatuation as the paradigm. Alternate
pages reiterate in prose that the only way out of the grief process is through
it, and display free-verse “poems” about McWilliams' failed romance in the
early 1970s.
It does take courage for a grown man publicly to claim the
“poems” he wrote about a love affair that ended fifteen or twenty years ago, so
first this web site salutes McWilliams for that.
Now, does anyone really need this book? Does anyone not
already know that the only way out of the grief process is through it? I think
this book may help some people but I'd like, for the record, to say some more
about some of the ways I've seen it (and the kind of advice it contains) fail
people.
First, even the authors fell for a popular error of the
1990s. Ah yes, some people think they'd like to identify their grief
(or, more dangerously, someone else's grief) as “continu[ing] longer than
normal” and requiring medication, and the authors blithely assure us that
“Antidepressants, taken as prescribed by a psychiatrist, are non-addictive and
effective. If you wonder whether you need antidepressant medication, contact a
competent psychiatrist for an evaluation.”
And the helpful pharmaceutical industry has supplied that
psychiatrist with a checklist of symptoms that definitely will not include
the one I'd consider indispensable, “Has the patient honestly tried every other
alternative over a period of no less than ten years, and/or is the patient
already receiving treatment and/or hospice care?” That checklist may not
include, in so many words, “Have you ever been lonely? Have you ever
been blue? Have you ever loved someone who didn't love you? Are you
still alive? If so, you need antidepressants immediately,” but it won't be a
great deal more subtle than that; it will most definitely not be written to yield
results like “You're not depressed, you're a teenager,” and “You're not
depressed, you're bereaved,” and “You're not depressed, you're
lactose-intolerant,” and “You're depressed all right, and you need to watch
your moods as a symptom while seeking a diagnosis of the physical disease
that's causing your depression, so if you can't say no to all drugs including
alcohol it'd be a good idea to check into a drug treatment facility,” and, for
maybe five percent of all patients, “You're depressed, which is understandable
since you have an incurable disease, and an antidepressant may alleviate your
distress during the hospice process.”
Admittedly this approach to depression might allow some
people to suffer from gloomy moods longer, but it would restore the incidence
of murders of total strangers by females back to the norm of virtually zero, where it was before today's popular antidepressant drugs came onto the market.
Because many English-speaking people use the word “depressed”
to describe any noticeably “low” mood however transient, many people will say
that everybody gets depressed. Psychiatrists used to be required to limit
the discussion of “clinical depression” to cases where the patient insists that
s/he has felt intensely unhappy, consistently, for at least six months, in the
absence of real-world bereavement or other major losses or of treatable
physical diseases. The pharmaceutical industry has pushed very hard to create a
cultural atmosphere in which random acquaintances feel free to tell anyone who
seems calmer than they are all about the wonderful pills they can start popping
to “get rid of that depression” and be as manic as TV commercial actors are
required to appear to be. Those of us who prefer to live in a world where most strangers
aren't likely to murder us (and where we're not likely to feel a need to murder
strangers, ourselves) need to push back, reminding everyone that TV commercial
actors spend whole days splicing recordings to get the perkiest look and sound
from a hundred different “takes,” and end up merely boring and annoying us
anyway.
Meanwhile, with its wonderful 1990s discovery that
“antidepressants are non-addictive” (disproven by now), How to Survive received
a boost and reprinting...not specifically credited to any pharmaceutical
company. Despite the shiny new binding it's still the same
consciously “cornball” book that expresses where baby-boomers' heads generally
tended to be at (yes, that was the phrase) in the 1970s.
I'm a bit dismayed to see that my 1991 edition of How to
Survive was distributed as a Christian book, years after Dave Hunt
had guided Christians to repudiate The Seduction of Christianity by the
various New Age feel-good cults that were typically formed by and for ex-Christians.
At their best the New Age groups wanted to blend a few aspects of Christian
practice that still felt warm'n'fuzzy with a sort of warmer'n'fuzzier
watered-down Buddhism, so they could make peace with their parents without
actually having to give up a few cherished sins. At their worst they were
psychological personality cults. If How to Survive hadn't been mistaken
for a Christian book I'd have no qualms about sharing it with Christians as a general-audience book, but
since that mistake has been made...
How to Survive is the nicer sort of New Age book. It
tries—sincerely, no doubt—to stay accessible to Christians but it advises
readers to adopt that bland, Buddhist-passivist attitude toward sin that is, in
fact, contrary to Christian teaching...not just blanket one-way “forgiveness”
(meaning emotional release), but an effort to dispense with all moral judgments
whatsoever. Many Christians are still trying to practice this (per)version of
our faith, because they've never taken a long step back and looked at the
results trying to embrace all behaviors impartially has had in the Buddhist
countries. No, not the absence of totalitarian governments, and not the absence
of material wealth; the absence of a firm sense of right and wrong is what
leads to slavery and thuggery and all kinds of abuse.
Individual Christians who have physical “anger addictions”
can benefit from recusing themselves from passing moral judgments. Society
as a whole cannot afford to do this. Most people are not anger addicts and need
to take a firmer, not softer, attitude toward immoral behavior, beginning with
our own. Instead of trying (futilely, if we have healthy moral senses) to
achieve warm'n'fuzzy moods by “forgiving ourselves for judging ourselves,” we
need to recognize what we did wrong, to whom, and ask those people what we have
to do to put things right.
If you understand forgiveness (as I do) to mean a process
that begins when we sincerely want to make amends for behavior we sincerely
intend not to repeat because we realize that it's done harm to other people,
then one of the losses you have to accept, at various times in your life, is
that some people are going to die before they can forgive us or we can forgive
them. Some of the emotions we release, without that process of
forgiveness, just in order to get on with our own lives, may include
frustration (that feels like anger) with the people who died before we wanted
to live without them.
I have found it useful to make a very clear, firm distinction
between releasing emotions (the one-way process that other people want us to be
able to rush through in a few hours, and usually we can) and forgiveness
(always at least a two-party process that can only ever begin with the person
seeking to be forgiven). It is harmful to others, as well as ourselves,
to babble about forgiving a child molester who is still actively abusing people
who are still children. It is wrong to try to feel good about having
“forgiven” a swindler who is still cheating other people out of money. The
emotional mood we feel about these things normally passes at a rate that
corresponds fairly exactly to the rate at which we're able to recover from the
physical, material damage that's been done to us. Thus, when we
FIX FACTS FIRST, FEELINGS FOLLOW.
One of the facts that may or may not be fixable is whether or
not the person who did us wrong has repented, so that we can forgive him or
her. If that hasn't happened, it's probably not a high priority. By fixing the more
direct damage done, we can look forward to reaching an emotional position from
which we can release our emotions about the fact that that person hasn't
received our forgiveness in this life and may thereby be disqualified from
receiving God's forgiveness in the next.
(Another fact, which may in some cases be “fixed” by thinking
about the matter more clearly, is that the person may not have done us
wrong...by ending or never beginning the sort of premarital sexual relationship
that the “poems” in How to Survive suggest, for instance, the person may
have spared us from the misery of premature parenthood, thereby doing us a good turn, as we can clearly see once we've
readjusted.)
It may be a source of tremendous frustration and anxiety and
pain to those who've trained themselves to alleviate their own emotions by
trying to “help someone else” (yes, that's one of the generally better
suggestions in How to Survive)...but we really can't help someone feel
better just by focussing on the person's feelings. We can offer
ourselves, if we so choose, as emotional crutches. We can listen-more-than-talk
about whatever the person wants to talk about during the (hours, not quarter-hours) it takes a normal emotional mood to subside. That will help the
person if, meanwhile, the facts of the person's life are improving or
being improved. Otherwise, it won't; the person will feel just as bad, or
worse, about the same thing another day. So if we want to do more than just
encourage the person to go on and on feeling worse and worse until s/he becomes
desperate enough to make the facts of his/her situation even worse than that,
we can sit still and chatter and blather about the person's feelings. If we
want to be the one who actually helps, we're going to have to exercise body
parts other than our mouths. Don't even bother uttering words like “Depart in
peace, be ye warmed and filled.” Get up and feed the person, if you find
someone whose main complaint is not having enough to eat.
There are some good suggestions in How to Survive for
those of us who are co-surviving someone else's loss, e.g. the end of a Teen
Romance. By reading the book along with this person we may get ideas for things
that actually keep the emotional pain from expanding into, say, a physical
illness. In order to get the most use from this book it may be good to make it
a rule not to volunteer any thoughts about the person's emotional
feelings. (Listen if the person wants to talk through a mood swing, but don't
talk about the mood; let it pass.) Do offer to do things with or for the
person: cook, clean, walk, drive, do chores and errands. (Bereaved people may
be brainfogged by their overwhelming loss for months, and need you to do things
for them. Adolescents with heartache are feeling as if they'd lost
something they'd had, although they've not, and need you to do things with them,
keeping them in motion, until the hormones subside and they can go to sleep.)
Let them be the judges of how relevant, irrelevant, cheering, annoying, etc.,
McWilliams' poems are. You're outside of their emotions; that means you can
monitor, and when possible improve, the facts.
To Melody Beattie's expressed dismay, a lot of
baby-boomers chose to interpret Co-Dependent No More as telling them
they must never do anything practical to help other people. “If I drive for
someone who's crying, cook for someone who's not eating, or heavenforbidandfend
give or lend someone MONEY (expression of horror), the person might become dependent
on me! No no no, all I can do is tell people to get professional help to
deal with their feelings!” People who never depend on each other (as crutches,
yes) never bond with each other. If you do not, in fact, want to be a close
friend, you don't have to be one; you wouldn't be one in any case. You might
hand someone money while expressing a mental attitude that would guarantee that
the person might continue to use you, but would never ever like, trust, or
respect you, for the rest of your lives. If your friend is in financial
distress, whether you prefer to be “Lady Bountiful, That Stupid Sucker” or
“Scrooge McWorthless” may be the only choice you're able to make—if you're
really all that attached to having more money. If you do choose to be a
friend worth having, you should know that (1) most people naturally prefer to
be independent (many of the people exploiting Lady Bountiful, That Stupid
Sucker, turned down several offers before they realized that she likes to
be exploited), and (2) the time to haul out Co-Dependent No More is when
you see evidence that someone is excessively dependent on you, at which point
you can always say, “I offered to drive for you while you were crying every
day, but that doesn't mean I like driving,” or “I appreciate the part-time work
you did while I was able to pay for it, but with the medical bills I have now I
can't afford a lawn service,” or whatever may apply.
Which brings me to a final observation: If you read a few
cubic yards of the popular psychology-philosophy-religious thought of the
1970s, and you used what you found good in it and threw away the rest, such
that as an adult you live with inner peace and self-respect and integrity and
all of those things that some hoped would displace spirituality, and you also
have spirituality...oh wow, are some of the self-appointed amateur
psychotherapists of this world ever going to hate you. Would you rather be
co-dependent and depressive and addictive and blah blah blah, and have friends,
or be liberated from all the emotional dreck and be your own, and only, trusted
friend? (It's up to you, but here I stand to testify: the latter is more fun.)
Readers of the book of Job in the Bible have always agreed
that, of all Job's miseries, his four longwinded friends had to have been the
most likely to turn him against God. The book of Job is generally thought to be
a legend from far back in the mists of prehistoric time...and it's been hard
for friends' reactions to alleviate, rather than aggravate, any source of pain
anybody has ever had, ever since. Sharing How to Survive with a
grief-stricken friend can have either effect. I've discussed some common
pitfalls into which people my age have fallen since 1976; that may not prevent
you and your friends from discovering new ones. Then again, it may actually
help you, your friend, and your friendship survive that first doom-guaranteed
Teen Romance...or even the loss of a job or a relative.
Melba Cosgrove is alive and active in cyberspace, so this is a Fair Trade Book. When you send $5 per copy of this book, plus $5 per package (at least six and possibly eight copies of this book would fit in one $5 package), via U.S. postal order to P.O. Box 322, or add $1 per online payment for a total of $11 via Paypal to the address you get by e-mailing salolianigodagewi @ yahoo, this web site will send $1 to Cosgrove or a charity of her choice.
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