Within the Madness That Is Grief

By Jeannette Fagan

This book is about the grief of a sudden young death and the madness that I was hurled into as a result. On March 12th 2004 I found my beloved brother dead at his flat and I was overcome with the grief that followed. I am a Registered General Nurse and have dealt with death and suffering within my profession for over 20 years. However, the impact of my grief after finding Kevin dead lead to a nervous breakdown, the loss of my beloved job and the sense of myself as a person. I have had to write this book not only for me but also for the countless people out there who as I type are getting a phone call, a knock on the door, the news that a young person has died suddenly. The impact of this type of grief is within the pages of my book and I hope that my words and emotions experienced will support you within the madness that is created. But mainly it is for Kevin because I could not let his death mean nothing because he meant everything to me and his family. In memory of Kevin this book has been wrote but it is mainly intended for those that are left behind to live within the madness that their loss has created.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479750672

Book preview

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Preface

Chapter 1

Looking Back

Chapter 2

Kevin

Chapter 3

Intensive Hope

Chapter 4

Braveheart

Chapter 5

Suspended In Silence

Chapter 6

The Venom In The Void

Chapter 7

This Charming Man

Chapter 8

Profound Pieces

Chapter 9

Serendipity And Substances

Chapter 10

Mayhem

Chapter 11

The Painted Veil

Chapter 12

Through A Different Lens

Chapter 13

Tainted Love

Chapter 14

Altered Images

Chapter 15

Grace’s Song

Chapter 16

Ineffable

Chapter 17

And So It Is

Chapter 18

Goodbye My Hero

Chapter 19

In Disguise

Chapter 20

My Memory

Chapter 21

Destination Unknown

Chapter 23

In Dedication May The Road Rise To Meet You

Epilogue

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Dedication

For Kevin A man above all men in all the land in all the world.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I have had to overcome the madness within every word that has been typed upon these pages and yet I have succeeded. You see I could never have let my brother’s death mean nothing because he meant everything to me and his family. I can now finally find my peace because his death now means something and the grief bestowed upon me has found a purpose. How can I thank the wonderful people who stood by my side and supported me in the abyss that ensued. You know who you are and I will be forever grateful of your kindness and empathy against it all. To Dawnie, my friend and rock I wish you a thousand blessings. To Natalie my beautiful daughter who stood silent but strongly in the shadows of my grief and supported me by always being there, I thank you so much. To Nathan my handsome son, who adored his uncle and watched me in his vulnerable adolescent years succumb to the madness I am so very proud of you. For my beloved granddaughters Erinn and Charlotte who have created in my life the wonder of it all without the shadow of the madness I love you both so very much. For Grace, Kevin’s daughter who lost her daddy at the age of 9 years old thank you for holding my hand and wishing upon rainbows whilst also comforting me because you were his legacy. For Kevin because your loss is a sorrow that I carry every day in my heart and I miss your lovely soul beyond words. For my beloved ma, reunited with Kevin in a better world I hope you are proud. Thomas Nield who without him I would not have been able to produce all the technology via the emails and scanning. A major thank you to my publishers who believed in my story and have supported me all the way. Also to Archie Brown, for your constant phone calls and advice, I could not have done it without you Archie, many thanks and much love. To the readers of this book I hope that my madness will comfort yours and help you in some small way in your darkest hours.

Within The Madness

That Is Grief

In Memory of Kevin

PREFACE

I always wanted to write a book it was both a dream and an ambition that I have held for a long time. The events leading up to this book were both unexpected and devastating beyond comprehension.

It was therefore written in my fate that my grief would form the foundation of the book that I was destined to write. I had no choice but to follow the path that had been decided for me and to share my experiences with all of you that are now questioning your sanity.

I entered a world that was created from the emotions that death had in store. The only analogy that I can compare it to is like a nuclear weapon exploding in the whole of your sense of self. The tiny bits and pieces that were once you or what you thought was you are now scattered on the breeze of isolation. The world has changed and you no longer feel as though you are existing in the moment. Time becomes nothingness and you exist inside a catalyst of grief that no one can touch, it awaits in the distance just an explosion away and it scares you because its intensity is something that you cannot comprehend. It grips you in the silence and remains in the shadows just a moment away. It sits in the darkness that is yours to claim as the world or so you assume sleeps.

This book is about the grief experienced with a sudden young death, a death that was so unexpected and so shocking that it literally shatters your whole existence. It is also about experiencing the pain and distress of seeing a young man survive an episode in intensive care, pull through via a miracle only to be taken by his fate one year later. It is about pain, real but indescribable pain a sense of something gnawing at your soul as you inhale and take each unconscious breath that keeps you alive. It is both a story and a true life account of the subjective experience of a grieving soul, lost in a madness that no one could touch, feel or help. It is about the helplessness of illness, the soul destroying time spent in an intensive care ward holding onto an image of the person whom you love more than life itself and waiting while their future lies in the balance of life and death.

It is about recovery, the strength of the human spirit, the will to live and carry on. It is about all the things that society shuns and that your friends and family find too hard to discuss. For this book is designed to help me come to terms with the trauma and pain and to ensure that my brother’s memory will live on forever in these written pages. His death will not be lost in my madness and his spirit will become eternal living inside every word that I compose. For he was as big as life itself, his presence was noted in a room as soon as he entered, he was a much treasured person with qualities that shone as bright as the moon itself. I want Kevin to be remembered for his spirit and love of life, I need these words to bring to life a man who was above all men.

I know that you who are reading this book will have lost someone with the same qualities bestowed on as my brother. Although this is my own personal account you will identify, feel and understand the context because you are residing within your own madness. My grief will touch yours and I hope that somewhere you can take comfort from my pain and madness. A madness that was born when I encountered his sudden young death. A death that you cannot comprehend or register in your mind. For death is not sudden or so we think, we should have time to prepare, have an illness to make sense of it, have a form of release as a premise on which to look back on and reflect. Not the sudden and unexpected demise of a young man who was fit and well the last time you saw or spoke to them.

Not the end of a life not lived or experienced. No, this is not how it should be, this is not HAPPENING! Yet somehow it is, it has and with it your very essence and soul is lost amongst it. For it has claimed the very depths of your being and you are now experiencing the moments within the madness. But the moments are not really experienced, they are encountered and yet somehow sheltered by the human capacity to shut down and freeze in an instant. The shock renders the situation as a form of nothingness but yet it is so extreme but somehow at this moment you are protected. Your body adapts, the physiological processes do not respond, they are stagnant in the pool of reality and suspended.

At the time of writing this book exactly 15 months and 4 days after Kevin’s death my beloved ma died at the age of 68 years old and after much suffering. Her death has left a void that I have come to know so well and will be expressed as a book once I have faced and fought the madness that allows me to write with passion.

For now it is Kevin that is claiming my need to write, deep in my heart I know that they are both reunited and at peace. With this in mind I will await the feelings that are paused for awhile, for I know that once they come I will once again be catapulted into a strange existence. Im not prepared to stand outside of this life just yet as I have just re entered this funny old world. Being a trained nurse and bereavement counsellor has

Had no bearing on the words that I write, for my training has been based around processes, biological and physiological entities. My background in psychology has had no meaning and my witness of death with patients has just taught me to treat the dead body with respect and dignity. I have seen so many relatives left isolated and bereaved but my training ensured that their relatives had the most pain free and comforting death possible.

Death has been my profession for over 20 years and I hope I made a small difference to the relatives that were called to attend the hospital as soon as possible with the knowledge that their loved one had already died.

Such is hospital policy and the protection of those that have to travel to meet death and accept the following madness with all the human resources that they can muster, for the death of a loved one is an experience that we all try to forget. The resonance of the mind is that it will never happen to me. It has happened to me, the unthinkable, the unimaginable and the most extraordinary emotions that take on the form of fear.

The fear that death creates is a pernicious fear that creeps amongst the shadows of every thought. It has no logical sequence it arrives unannounced and unexpected. It makes you hold onto any substance that will keep it away, it has no order, it has no logic it just is.

No longer can you function in the way that you used to function, but you forget the way you used to live. No longer can you awake to face the day with the former commitment that you had to achieve. For death and the implications have now entered your life and you are not equipped to deal with any of the consequences.

This book is for Kevin and all that he represented in this world. His loss is a sorrow that I carry every moment of my life and the events of his death has created in my sanity a form of madness. It is with this this in mind that I write these words, from the loneliness of my soul to the emptiness of yours. It has been a year and a day since I was catapulted into the madness and I still seek a form of normality within the process. May you find an understanding within these pages and may you feel comforted within the madness that is grief.

CHAPTER 1

LOOKING BACK

All we do as bereaved families is look back into the past for the present is too empty and represents a new found existence that we cannot and do not want to recognise.

We look back to happier times when life was filled with the close cohesiveness that only a family possesses. For no matter how many friends we have in life, no friend can claim your heart or make you feel as secure as the family bond. It is beyond words, it just is and therefore we live as one unit, united with the same blood and having the same view of life. Even though we have different paths and destinies to follow our family always lives in our souls.

I look back often, I peep into my childhood days and reflect on the innocence of youth and the uncomplicated fun filled days that were once had. My parents were Irish, they came to England to find a future to build together that would offer more than rural farmlands and prospects in their beloved Country. They arrived with hope in their hearts newly weds and so the story begins as the children arrived. Five children were born and so the family that I was destined to be with was created and it consisted of Barbara, me, Kevin, Gary and Anthony. I love having Irish roots and I love the fact that as a family we had a strong Celtic bond that was established by my ma who loved us all so very much and ensured that we were happy, safe and well mannered.

And so I look back, we didn’t have much in the way of material wealth but we had something that money could not buy, a strong deep love for each other and an empathy that if any one of us were hurt or in pain we would feel it as they did. Like all families we would fight and often I recollect the times that I hated Kevin so much we would end up physically fighting as our Irish tempers got the better of us. We drove our poor ma mad at times, five children in the house on rainy days with nothing to do but argue and moan.

In relation to grief we cling onto our memories we are hungry for anything that brings to life those that we have lost, we search the mind for a moment, a picture, an event, anything that captures the essence of the person that no longer exists.

We are forever in a past moment living but remembering, moving on but always moving back, it is as if we are on a treadmill tied to what we once had but struggling to live.

Its like having a video running inside your head as you play and replay the events of your past, sometimes pausing the picture as you try to relive the happier times that were once yours. The holidays in caravans, the ways in which you entertained yourself because money was tight. The amusement arcades that were always beckoning but you knew that once your daily allowance was spent you would just sit and dream of being rich.

Days spent sitting by the sea and daring to venture into its icy coldness being brave in front of your family as you braved the elements and they joined in to prove who was the strongest. Searching for baby crabs and small fish that were washed in with the tide and the joy of catching one or two in our little plastic buckets. Innocent little souls wanting nothing more than love and care, each with an individual self but all viewing the world with wonder and magic as a collective whole connected from the same soul.

Its hard at times to recapture the feelings of those treasured moments as they are replayed upon the memory. Our adult perspective and all its responsibilities means that we lose the capacity to really look back and feel that wonderful emotion of innocence. To reclaim it I often watch children play and hear their heartfelt laughter fill the air and if Im lucky I sometimes step back into that innocence and smile. It is only inside the emotions of grief that we are catapulted into a state of reflection and longing. We sigh a thousand sorrows as we experience a moments memory of what we once had.

We get braver in our quest and look at photographs of days long since gone. At first the pain of looking at the image hits you as you search the eyes of those now gone, wishing for them to blink and come alive. They look so real, so alive and for a brief magical time their whole essence is back within you. You hear their voice, you touch their warm skin and you feel safe again, bathed in peace.

Reality, the gnawing, consistent awareness is always in the distance waiting to unleash its truth, to make you face it full on once you have enjoyed the image of a life that no longer is. You shout at it and curse it, you hate its cold dark grip, you hate the fact that it always wins and that you cannot exist inside a memory. For they are brief, like a cool breeze on a hot day they provide a temporary relief, an antiseptic to an infected soul, a temporary glue for a broken heart. And so the pictures are put away for another day, or left up in beautiful gilded frames encasing the image of those that you cannot live without but cannot bare to forget.

Of those that haunt your every waking moment, of the stillness their passing has created, their image is branded into your mind and you cannot lose it for you fear that if you do you will forget how they were. Every detail is imprinted, every blemish magnified, the details are essential in order to keep them alive.

For each of you reading these pages your experiences of family life will be different but yet the same, your memories will however, flood through the walls of silence that you are now in. Your hunger will be no different than mine as you search through your life events in the hope that it will comfort you. Your comfort will be as short lived as mine and your pain as acute and ongoing. The pain of bereavement and loss cannot be described by mere words, for how can you explain this numb world of fear and despair. How can you communicate a growth inside you that cannot be detected or treated. The only cure is for the person you lost to walk in through the door and so the madness begins.

Yes I look back often, every day I tread the years of the past in the hope that it will provide a moments comfort in the present. Yes I get lost in a world that once was and bathe in its peace for awhile. Looking back is the only way out of the madness that is grief. It allows you to rest in the knowledge that once you had it all and enjoy the sanctity of this little haven. It rescues you from the abyss and soothes your over active mind when you go on this little journey.

You travel lightly here, for in the present you travel with a weight that is all consuming and laden with sorrow. You disappear from what is to what was and you feel love instead of anger, you cannot hurt anyone in this place because you are content. And so once again I am with Kevin, I hear his voice, I smell his aftershave I am alive again and we talk.

Once again I have found a status quo of tranquillity and I no longer have to be all that I represent to others. I no longer exist on the precipice of life looking into a different world that I once lived amongst. For here as I look back I fly with wings of silver in a different dimension a different place. I let the tide of peace soothe my fractured mind for I know that in the moments awaiting to be lived a tsunami may erupt at any given time and I hate the knowledge of its force.

We have the capacity as human beings to look back and reflect, it is how we make sense of our little routine lives, it is how we cope with the not knowing of what lies in store. Our minds are constantly receiving information and our perception and experiences gather it all together and store it into digestible sections. When we are ready to analyse an event, a moment a beginning, we tune into the sections and wait for the show. In bereavement we know that the show must go on but we have somehow lost the capacity to retain the information that has helped us live and our memories are filled with blank empty spaces. The emptiness adds to the isolation and despair, we can no longer do simple tasks or make a decision. We wander aimlessly in a world that no longer has any meaning and we try to survive amidst the chaos, we adapt to the strangeness and we hate its company. So we decide to once again look back, it has now become a therapy in itself we are own psychiatrists and physicians. We have to create a world within a world, we have to survive in the emptiness that grief has bestowed upon us. We are now becoming our own healers without any information or advice, we are learning slowly but surely the impact of how this form of escapism provides a temporary relief.

How articulate we become in this solace, how wiser we are here in our special place. With our innocence of youth lying in the background we have a new canvas to paint a new sense of living to achieve but now its within a madness that grief has bestowed on us. You can hear a gentle whisper do not be afraid does it comes from your exhausted imagination or does it come from those that we have lost ?

Let it come in all its glory for it is a ray of sunshine in the shadows, it is a warmth in the cold of the night and it is a comfort in all that lies ahead that we have no comprehension of just yet. All we know at this stage is how to provide a temporary release from the pain of loss, to step back in time and linger there awhile.

To exist in a safe haven of memories and laughter, to feel again the emotions attached with all that was once well. How wonderful is this moment how great it feels to be you again without the pain of loss, how selfish is this reflection but how necessary is it to our sanity.

As I let my eyes focus on childhood memories and the little cheeky grins of my three brothers stare back at me I smile and touch their little innocent faces. For little did I know that one day I would be touching Kevin’s death, Gary’s battle with alcoholism and Anthony’s heroin addiction and imprisonment.

Three young goofy grins locked in an innocent moment captured by a camera. Three young handsome men with the world at their feet locked within their own torment. One sister destined by fate to have the honour of knowing my eldest brother for thirty seven years. For not only was he my brother, he was my soul mate, my protector, my hero and my guiding light. He rests now in a place that I cannot imagine, in a world that exists outside mine and at times I cannot bear it. The longing, the pain, the loneliness, the loss are the ingredients that have made my madness form, my grief is my madness.

CHAPTER 2

KEVIN

Where does one memory begin and one end? How we search our minds for the very essence that comprises those that we have lost to death. The coldness of death is replaced by the warmness of life and we tune in with our senses, we smell them, we touch them and we imagine them alive and full of energy. They are existing in our fragile minds and memories but at least here they are existing and this provides us with the strength to live within their existence and be with them once again.

We talk, we laugh, we are as we used to be but somehow this time we are perfect and so are they, our souls are without sin and our hearts innocent.

It is so very easy to place our loved ones on a pedestal, we somehow worship those that we have lost and turn them into martyrs. We give their life a new dimension to the one that they lived, we adapt the story to incorporate our own version of events because it provides a blanket of comfort. We only speak of the good times, for the bad times are edited and re written, we do not speak ill of the dead for it is unacceptable.

For they like us are not saints but sinners, they like us have to navigate their way through life just like us, learning and growing within their mistakes. But in death their weaknesses are replaced by their strengths, their faults by their qualities and how we miss this person that we have reconstructed. No longer do we reflect on all that was wrong in their lives, no longer do we remember their human flaws and inadequacies. For it is too painful to remember them in this way as it also brings with it a dark cloak of guilt that engulfs the very core of your being because you are now faced with your own faults and failures.

So I remember Kevin in the only way I know how, I want