but kept going. “I screamed and somehow got her down, praying she was still alive. Then I ran to dial 911. The ambulance came within minutes, although it seemed like an eternity. I held Beth until the medics took her from my arms. Mother arrived home as they were taking her out and collapsed, wailing over and over, ‘My baby is dead.’ I didn’t know what to do, so I just stayed with Mother and tried to calm her down as they drove off with Beth.”
Anne and I sat together quietly for a few moments. “Anne, I’m so sorry that you suffered this terrible loss and were so alone in it, comforting your mother instead of being comforted by her.”
“The worst part for me has always been the guilt. I feel like Beth’s suicide was my fault.” Anne’s bloodshot eyes continued to weep.
“How could you have thought that?” I asked with genuine concern.
“Beth told me that she wished she was dead, and she was so sad and desperate after Father left. I could tell she was coming undone. I should have told my mother or someone, anyone, who might have helped. I didn’t do anything. Not a day goes by when I don’t feel guilty.” Anne sobbed as she rocked back and forth.
I tried to console Anne and help her to reframe this traumatic memory. I said, “You were a good sister to Beth. She loved you and trusted you. The dysfunction in your family affected everyone individually and collectively. How could you have possibly known that Beth’s wish to be dead was for real? It’s not unusual for unhappy people to say that they wish they were dead without really meaning it. I’m sure such thoughts crossed your mind, too. Even though you knew and loved Beth as you did, you could not have known that she was capable of killing herself. Beth needed help from the adults in her life, but how could you have convinced your mother of that? Your mother’s instability made it impossible for you to speak with her.”
For Anne, this was a watershed moment. She wept until the end of our session. I let her stay until she felt ready to drive home. At our next session, she told me that she had cried on and off throughout the week. She reported feeling sad but relieved.
For almost thirty years, Anne had hidden her feelings of loss and guilt. Sometimes we remain stuck in grief because the pain of loss keeps our loved ones alive in our minds. Or we believe that if we feel happy, it will diminish the significance of the relationship we once had. The truth is that when people we love die, our relationships with them do not die, in the sense that we continue to have feelings about them, memories of them, and thoughts about what might have been.
Because of Anne’s family dysfunction, she never had the opportunity to mourn the loss of her beloved sister. Her unresolved sorrow had turned into a complicated grief, where her painful emotions were so long-lasting and severe that they interfered with her own well-being.
“Perhaps you need to find a way to forgive yourself and your parents and say good-bye to Beth. It isn’t that you can ever completely resolve such a traumatic loss, but you are still living in the shadow of Beth’s death and it is causing you pain.”
We talked over the next few months about Beth and their relationship, and Anne continued to practice breathing, meditation, and self-affirmation strategies. Soon thereafter, she came to her session with another breakthrough: “I realize now that all these years I have felt such guilt over Beth’s suicide and that I was the one who survived the wrath and craziness of my mother. How I wish Beth could have done the same. Although my life is far from perfect, I’ve gone on to have so many wonderful experiences. I married a good, loving man and have been blessed with two beautiful children. If only Beth could have endured the suffering a little longer, she too could have escaped and created a decent life for herself.” Anne sat silently.
Learning to Forgive
Weeks later, Anne announced, “Beth will always be close to my heart, but I’m beginning to accept that it really wasn’t my fault. You were right. We were all in the same boat. In fact, each of us used to say we couldn’t wait to get away and that death would probably be a better alternative to living with Mother. Beth did get eerily depressed those last few days, but I never imagined that meant she could possibly kill herself. It still breaks my heart, but I’m getting better at missing her without having to punish myself and shut others out. But I do find myself still feeling infuriated with my parents. They should have known better, they were the adults.”
Over the next few sessions we centered on Anne forgiving her parents as well as herself. I suggested that she examine her story and find a way to reframe it. “Instead of focusing on the old story riddled with pain and suffering, think about creating a new narrative, a new way of interpreting your past,” I suggested. “Perhaps you can focus on the life that you have created for yourself. For instance, you had the power to leave your family of origin and start your own family. You did not repeat your history or remain a victim. You survived a difficult childhood, created your own beautiful family, and stopped the cycle of abuse for your children. These are huge accomplishments and have taken immense courage. Now you are in the process of transforming yourself further as you tap into your strengths. Your healing is well under way.”
Anne was ready to hear more about how forgiveness could help her transform anger and hurt into healing and peace. Author Anne Lamott suggested that “forgiveness is giving up all hope of having had a different past.”5 Besides the reward of letting go of a painful past, there are powerful health benefits that go hand in hand with the practice of forgiveness, such as lower heart rate and blood pressure, reduced fatigue, and better sleep quality. Psychologically, forgiveness has been shown to diminish the experience of stress and inner conflict while simultaneously restoring positive thoughts, feelings, and behaviors.
The problem for many of us is that although we can choose to forgive another, in our heart of hearts, the anger or resentment lingers. So, how do we give up a grudge and forgive someone who has hurt, disappointed, or betrayed us? Fred Luskin, PhD, in his book Forgive for Good,6 explains that forgiveness begins with reframing our grievance story. That’s the story you tell yourself, and possibly others, about the way you were maltreated or became victimized—over and over. Dr. Luskin’s book teaches how to reframe that story in such a way that you become a survivor of difficult times, or even the hero of your own story.
The following strategy for learning forgiveness draws from the work of Luskin and other researchers, along with my own work and experience as a psychologist.
Forgiveness Strategy
Take a few abdominal breaths to relax. Inquire about the root of your anger or grudge. Look at the situation fairly. Do not embellish or rearrange the details. Pay attention to how anger is holding you back and keeping you hostage.
Review your grievance story. Now restate it and visualize yourself empowered.
Perhaps you broke ties from a friend or family member who hurt you. Maybe you left a toxic partner. Restate your story in such a way that you become the survivor and hero in your own narrative. Look at the strengths you developed as a result of this situation. Being hurt or compromised can be a catalyst for change that leads to a new path and greater personal power.
Bring some empathy and compassion into the mix. Blaming yourself for not seeing the signs sooner inhibits the healing process. Know that bullies and abusers have often been abused themselves. Without accepting hostile or negative behaviors, try to comprehend the suffering they endured. You can understand and forgive, without necessarily tolerating bad behavior.
Create a ritual that says goodbye to the past as you once experienced it. Welcome the love and support that you now invite into your life. For example, light a candle and say a prayer or affirmation to symbolize
