Finding HopeFather’s Day Without A Father
Posted on June 21, 2020
I’ve made multiple attempts and spent a lot of time trying to write about my Dad – how he died when I was thirteen and how overwhelming the grief still is twelve years later – but I’ve never been able to post anything. However I approach it, I always end up finding it too painful to finish and end up abandoning it.
In my experience, Father’s Day (and any day connected to my Dad) usually feels very heavy and emotional. It just makes me feel so acutely aware of his absence, even more so than usual. But despite this, I’ve finally reached a place where I also want to remember and celebrate him on these days.
I don’t know about you but I’ve often felt that our culture is constantly trying to simplify our emotions, telling us that we can only feel one thing at once. But that’s just not true. As human beings, we’re inherently complicated and so are our emotions. We can feel more than one at a time, even conflicting ones. So if you want to celebrate your father on Father’s Day despite how sad the day makes you feel, that’s okay to do. All that matters is finding a way to remember him and feel connected to him in a way that feels personal and special.
There’s no rush though. You don’t have to do this now. You don’t have to do this ever if you don’t want to. Grief is such a different experience for everyone and there’s nothing that says you have to process it in a specific way. There’s nothing that says you have to do anything that you’re not comfortable doing. But if you do want to celebrate Father’s Day, then here are some ideas that you might like to think about…
- Look at photos – It’s scary to feel that our memories aren’t objective, that they change shape or fade over time, so looking at photos is a really good way of solidifying your memories of your Dad. For some people, it can be painful to have photos around all of the time but sometimes it’s good to just take a moment to flick through them and just remember.
- Talk to or spend time with family – We all have our own relationships and memories with a person and it can be really cathartic to simply sit and share some of that together. But if it feels too hard to talk about him, then just arranging to be together on a difficult day can be good for everyone. These emotions are so big and complicated that talking about them can be overwhelming but just knowing that you’re all feeling them can be comforting and strengthening.
- Do something he liked – I’ve always found a good way to feel connected to my Dad is to engage in things he liked or things we liked to do together. Not only does it remind me of good times with him, it makes me feel like I’m continuing his legacy. For example, we’d go swimming or draw or watch superhero stuff together so doing one or some of these things can be really good for my soul.
- Do something that reminds you of him – Even if it wasn’t something you did regularly or something you actually did together at all, if it reminds you of him, that’s all that matters. It’s the connection that’s important, not where you find it.
- Write him a card or a letter – Sometimes saying the words out loud can be really hard. Too hard. Putting them down on paper or in a word document instead is a perfectly good alternative. And if writing directly to him brings you more comfort than just writing about him, then all the better. As I’ve already said, it’s the connection that matters, not where you get the connection from.
- Buy flowers – Simply having flowers around can be a gentle reminder of the day, of your Dad, without being too obtrusive or upsetting. It’s just a little something to differentiate the day from others if that’s what you want to do.
- Visit his grave or a place dedicated to him* – If there’s a place that makes you feel closer to your Dad, you might want to visit. You can take flowers, you can talk, or you can simply sit and think about him. Whatever you believe in, there’s a way to feel close to him. It may just take some experimenting to find the way that’s best for you.
- Make a toast or take a moment to think of him – Dedicating a moment to your Dad can feel really important but sometimes making a specific moment can be too much. You raise a glass or spend a minute thinking of him; both are just as good as the other. It’s whatever makes you feel comfortable, whatever creates a positive moment, that’s important.
- Create a memory box/scrapbook/photo album – Having a specific activity or task to complete on a difficult day can be a really positive experience and if that is something that makes you feel close to your Dad then that can be really healing. Having all of your memories of him in one place can be really comforting because it’s like storing all of those important moments in a safe place. You don’t have to actively carry them. They’re safe to tuck away for when you want or need them.
- Share something about him with someone who didn’t know him – Sometimes it can be a lot of pressure to talk about your loss with another person who also went through that devastating experience because you’re both bringing in some incredibly powerful emotions so talking to someone who didn’t know him can be much easier. It can also feel good to know that one more person in the world knows about him, that he’s being remembered by more people rather than less: the loss of a loved, important person is a hugely personal thing and I know that every time someone has shared something that emotional with me, I’ve held that lost loved one close and vowed never to forget them because what a disservice that would be to them and the person who had shared their story with me.
*Not advisable during lockdown.
As I said, there are no rules that say you have to do any of these things – this year, next year, or ever. Even having made the list, I’m not sure I’ll feel up to doing any of them. We’ll have wait and see.
I hope this list has been helpful. And I hope that, if Father’s Day is a difficult day for you, you allow yourself to feel whatever you feel and do whatever you need to do to get through it. I’ll be thinking of you.
If you do anything not included on this list that you think might be helpful to others, please let me know in the comments…
I Rediscovered Swimming
Posted on November 3, 2018
One of the most common pieces of advice with anything mental health or mental illness related is to exercise. And while that’s not bad advice, it’s not necessarily good advice in the practical sense. It’s about as helpful as saying, ‘eat healthy’ or ‘get enough sleep.’ It’s something that has to be tailored to you. Specific types of exercise will help where others may make you feel worse. So you need to find the one for you.
For example, I hate running. I would love to love it but I hate it. I find it at best uncomfortable and at worst painful: it’s like my bones are rattling inside my body. I’ve heard this from others with Autism but I don’t know if it’s specific to that or whether it’s a coincidence. But anyway, running is not the thing for me. Swimming however…
I have always loved to swim. I love the feeling of moving through water and when I was a kid, I loved the silence that comes from being underwater. I would’ve given anything to be able to breathe underwater so that I could stay in that silence. That’s pretty ironic given that I would grow up to develop anxiety that is triggered by a lack of noise and distraction.
I got back into swimming a couple of months ago. At the beginning, my anxiety was so bad that I couldn’t even swim: the lack of stimulation for my brain meant that I just spiralled and my anxiety became completely overwhelming. So me and my Mum would walk and talk, planning the day or talking through whatever thing was on my mind that morning. Eventually my anxiety mutated into a different state and I was able to swim. It’s had such an impact on my life so I really wanted to write about it.
Swimming pools have the potential to be very difficult for me, from a sensory perspective. When it’s busy, the sound bounces around and around, making it one big fog of noise, which makes me very anxious. And the fact that I’m so short sighted I can barely see without my glasses makes that anxiety even worse: I can’t see anything and the sound feels like it’s coming from everywhere and that causes me paralyzing anxiety. It’s how I imagine it would feel to be on a carousel but if the carousel was going at ten times the normal speed. It’s scary. The best times to get in a quiet swim seem to be first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I’ve been sticking to the morning; it makes for a more productive day for me.
Knowing that this is the time that allows for the best swimming experience, I’ve been getting up early and getting to the gym for about seven forty five (sometimes I even get the pool to myself, which is glorious). And knowing that I have to get up that early, I’m going to bed at a sensible time, rather than accidentally staying up until three in the morning. So a routine sort of formed by accident and that has been so good for me. My relationship with sleep has never been so good.
Exercise has always been difficult for me given my historic struggle with energy but also because ‘weight bearing’ exercise often feels very jarring. As I’ve already said, it makes me feel like my bones are rattling inside my body and each impact makes it worse. Sometimes it’s not that bad and I can be distracted by whatever I’m doing but sometimes it can actually be painful. So swimming is perfect. It takes that whole aspect out of the equation and makes exercise actually enjoyable. It reminds me of my arthritic dog: he goes for hydrotherapy and as soon as he’s in the water, chasing tennis balls, he’s like a puppy again. He loves it and I can totally relate.
The best thing about swimming is that it’s something that makes sense and that’s something I really need at the moment. The world feels hard and unfair and this is something that I can control. The more I swim, the stronger I get. I can see the results. I’ve been swimming most days for the last three months and I see my own progress: I’m swimming further; I’m swimming faster; I can see my body changing. It makes sense. That grounds me.
The one thing I do have to be careful of is my tendency to obsess: about the number of laps, getting to the next ten, getting to a hundred… Once it’s in my head that I ‘have’ to get to a particular number, there’s not much I can do to change my own mind and it causes me serious anxiety if I don’t reach the number I’ve ‘decided on.’ So I have to be aware of that. Sometimes I can avoid it by distracting myself or by deciding on exactly how long I’m going to spend in the pool but sometimes I just have to manage it. Sometimes that’s all you can do.
But overall, rediscovering swimming has been one of the major highlights of this year. It’s helped my physical health and my mental health, as well as my day to day life. So I feel very grateful to have found it again.
And since I can’t take my phone into the pool with me, here’s a photo of my dog, enjoying his fortnightly swim.
