…On My Experience Disenfranchised Grief.

If you’re anything like me, you probably read the subheading and thought, ‘disenfranchised what?!’ But, if you’re also anything like me you’re probably curious as to what this loaded word actually means. Disenfranchised grief occurs when someone dies and society determines who gets to grieve and who is supported in their grief. It more accurately occurs when our relationship with the departed isn’t acknowledged and therefore the affect of that person’s death (whether it be a co-worker, ex-lover, or old childhood friend) on us isn’t validated. It can also be when the circumstances surrounding the death don’t warrant society’s pity ( drug/substance abuse, suicide, etc.). Grief becomes disenfranchised when we don’t receive society’s stamp of approval for our loss and an allotted time period for the grieving process. Since society says we shouldn’t be grieving, we feel like we can’t share our grief with others and therefore we feel isolated in our grief. A feeling I’ve come to know all too well.

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For me, the very experience I had with disenfranchised grief came amidst celebrating the birthday of my brother. My Mother, who attends mass every Saturday and sometimes Sunday, heard the mass was being celebrated in Birthday remembrance of an old friend of mine I grew up with. Like most, our closeness dwindled after high school but the reason was ultimately because my friend was going down a path I couldn’t follow. One of drugs. I’d seen that same old friend two years before I sat on that couch in disbelief at my Mother’s words. He had seen my now husband and I while we were engaged. He hugged and congratulated us and we’d both promised we’d get together soon. He looked happy, he looked healthy, his eyes looked so clear. I remember leaving that conversation feeling like I’d had my friend back, a bit more mature but wiser and stronger. Now as I sat there with Mother’s curious eyes upon me all I could think was: What went wrong?

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I remember reaching out to someone both my friend’s mother and I had worked with and it was through them that I received the news that my former friend had lost his battle against addiction. I instantly broke down and cried. I still remember standing in my parents’ kitchen looking out the back window with silent tears pouring down my face. Not only was my old friend dead, but he’d died just a little over a month after I’d gotten married without me even knowing until one year and one month later.

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I still remember my husband, walking in and being totally unsure of why I was even crying, “You haven’t spoken to him in years!” He’d told me and while he held and comforted me, I couldn’t help but feel my grief was deeply misunderstood. I spent many nights on the phone with this friend, sometimes till 3 AM. I’d lay in my backyard, sometimes in the humid summer heat or the bitter winter cold on my diving board under the stars and we’d talk about our hopes, dreams and people we liked and didn’t like. I can still hear his voice if I close my eyes-I hope I always remember it. We went to school together, shared a best friend together and shared a lot of good times and bad together.

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He was a beautiful soul-someone who could both frustrate and amuse me at the same time. We shared secrets and jokes, we went to prom in the same small group. He was at one point one of my best friends. While Tom wondered how I can grieve, I wondered, how could I not grieve? A loss is a loss.

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The fact that it was an old friend made me feel isolated enough in my grief, but when people learned the death was related to drugs? I adamantly felt like I would’ve gotten more sympathy from crabs on a deserted island than the family and friends around me. It was hard for me to say, my friend’s no longer here because he lost his battle with addiction because I felt a tremendous amount of guilt that I couldn’t be there for him at his lowest. I, who pride myself on giving the best advice and save everyone, could not save him. He fell into a bad crowd and bad habits which I had no wrap for and so I went on with my life, making new friends and soaking up the college experience for all it was worth. ‘He’d made his choice, I hope he gets the help he needs’ I remember thinking. I often prayed for his recovery, asked his Mother how he was doing through the years and thought back fondly on who he was before all this was the issue. When we were kids he, our mutual friend and I, were like the Three Musketeers but after a falling out with that mutual friend a few years prior to my friend’s death, I was the only one left standing. The one person who would understand, who shared the same fond memories of our departed friend was no longer a part of my life to lean on and grieve with.

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How long was my friend battling this inner demon? Was he alone when he died? Was he scared? Did he realize what was happening before it happened?

So many thoughts rushed through my head, so many moments where I’d find myself crying. I didn’t feel like I had anyone who understood me but I also knew my friend wouldn’t have wanted me to have our good memories tainted with sadness of his unfortunate and tragic end.

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I decided to honor his memory by accepting my grief is valid, my love for him was as real as my love for any of my other friends. I indulged in some of my favorite sweets, watched some of his and I’s favorite movies, and wrote a private letter to him that I burned in my fire pit after writing. I sent a card to his mother and reached out to people I knew wouldn’t judge my grief.

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Slowly, I am healing, but I know I’ll always love and miss the person he was and mourn the person he never got to grow up to be. This experience has also taught me a lot about society’s stigmatism on drugs, having also lost a close friend in middle school to leukemia. The sympathy and support I received was tremendous when I lost her compared to the callousness of losing him to drugs. I’m 28 years old and lost two very close friends: one to illness and one to addiction. My grief for one should never be more valid than the other.

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At the end of the day these are two young people who lost their lives much too soon. Society needs to realize that drugs kill more than automobile accidents and Breast Cancer combined. This is an epidemic. This is serious problem that requires society to re-think the lack of support for parents, friends (both current and former) , co-workers and most importantly family members left behind to pick up the pieces after a loved one loses their battle to addiction. Perhaps if so much stigmatism which results in disenfranchised grief wasn’t surrounding drug addiction and abuse, my friend would have gotten a proper send off and celebration of his life surrounded by everyone he knew and loved. Perhaps he wouldn’t have wanted that, perhaps I did more than anything because it would of given me the proper closure I received with my other friend who died at the tender age of 13.

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Out of respect for my friend and his wonderful family, I have chosen NOT to give any part of his name on here. It’s not my place to. It is my place though to say that as a society, we need to re-evaluate who gets to grieve and who gets support. People who lose love ones to addiction require just as much compassion as those who lose their loved ones to illness. Often times the people left behind have so much guilt, shame and profound sorrow.

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Those left behind feel like they didn’t do enough to save their loved one from the inevitable even though they actually did everything they possibly could. These people are parents, friends, co-workers, teachers, doctors, lawyers and family members that are affected each day by watching a loved one die or struggle with addiction. Addition doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, it doesn’t matter your religion or race. Addiction comes and it destroys both the people struggling with it and the people who love them that are watching them fight an often times losing battle. These people have stories about loved ones whose lives were so much more than just a ‘drug addict’.

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These ‘addicts’ were still just people with families and friends left with more questions than answers and nobody to talk to. I think it’s time as a society to honor these people’s dignities by allowing those who loved them to share stories and grieve. To be able to say ‘I’m here for you, I’m sorry for your loss and grief’ and genuinely mean it. If we can stop sweeping addiction and it’s victims under the rug, and support those left behind together we can raise awareness and put better support in place for those still battling and their families who feel so utterly lost in the wake of a loved one’s addiction. It’s up to us to be that change.

Recently, Chris Christie has been pushing for addiction to be recognized as an epidemic, I also have been seeing a lot of ads which are acknowledging opioid addiction is a real issue in this state and country.

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I think of my friend whenever I’m bombarded with these ads and commercials and wonder if something like this had been in place 10-15 years ago, would he still be here? I’d like to say that finding ways to deal with my disenfranchised grief helped me to heal completely but I can only say it helped and inspired me to write this. Dealing with disenfranchised grief made me sad, withdrawn and isolated from my current friends (who didn’t know my former friend) and family members. It made me lash out at others because I was hurting inside with no proper outlet, and nobody who understood.

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I’ve had way more good days in the last eight months but I still have bad days where I want to cry. The grief I feel is no different than losing anyone else that mattered to me-the effect is the same even though the circumstances were different and that’s my prerogative.

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If you or someone who you know is suffering from addiction please contract The Drug Abuse Hotline at 1-877-486-1655 today. You are not alone, you or your loved one’s life is precious. Please get help today.

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Love You. Mean It.

Brittany

Xoxo

Not to go to my 10 Year High School Reunion…

High School Reunions, that event that comes around every 10 years to remind you just how old you really are and how long ago those days of adolescent carelessness have passed us by. Everyone’s experience with high school is different, depending on who you talk to they will either tell you high school was “the best time of my life“ or they will tell you “that period of my life was what I call my version of the dark ages”. My experience with high school was neither of these things but rather it fell through the cracks as neither memorable nor horrible. Come to think of it, if I really contemplate my high school years I view them as unremarkable.

Naturally, when the time came for my former classmates to track me down and give me the details of our ten year reunion, I firmly decided not to go. My choice, isn’t a popular one by most people’s standards, most when given the choice opt to spend a night of nostalgia with the people they grew up with-those people who saw us at every awkward phase and bad haircut ‘whoops I cut my own bangs’ stage. Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Lisa Kudrow and Mira Sorvino as Romy and Michelle more times than I can count. I’m certain there’s at least one or two people we’d all like to march up to and say: “oh yeah, well, I hope your babies look like monkeys!” But is it really worth it? When I watch that movie now, having been graduated from High School for 10 years and 4 months I wonder why Romy and Michelle felt the need to go back and impress everybody. I also realized this is one of the many reasons I don’t want to go. It should be noted that it is not the only reason I don’t wish to go and this post isn’t meant to discourage anyone from attending their’s if they so desire. These are my reason not to go.

1. It’s Been 10 Years- Let’s face it, our lives are very different now. I am not the same person I was 10 years ago anymore than any of the people I graduated are. We grew up together, and most of us grew apart. Aside from those one or two people that stood through the tests of time you’re virtually meeting up with strangers and if you’re one of those people who are hoping to come back to a reunion to make your impression on old friends and reconnect with ‘that one who got away’ than I got news for you: should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. The people from your past who do not make it into your future are best left in the past.Most of my graduating class are recovering addicts, dead, or parents to young children which means we have even little in common now than when we went to school together 10 years ago. This is not made to sound bitter, it is just a simple fact of life, everyone is in different phases, this is our late twenties there’s no road map. Our journeys aren’t meant to be exactly the same and while the idea of a reunion is well meant it’s just not necessary to go back and talk to people about everything you’ve gone through without them for the last 10 years.
2. Some People Truly Live In The Past; While Other’s Only Want To Tell You About Themselves- Reunions have two types of people: the gloating ‘look where I’m at and all I’ve done’ people and the ‘do you remember that time?’ People. Some people truly believe that the best time of their lives was in High School, and they will want to relive every adolescent triumph, every moment of glory while the others will go on and on about their careers, spouses and kids-oh or rehab. I truly hope everyone in my graduating class is happy and successful, I hope with all my heart that they love the life they made. I would just much rather continue focusing on that life I made for myself, with true friends and loving/supportive family members. I don’t need people I went to grade school with to approve of my life choices, once more, I went ten years without seeing or speaking to some of you: why the sudden urgency now?

Aside from those two reasons not to go, I can’t honestly think of a reason to go. The people from High School I loved dearly, I still speak to, even if only on Facebook here and there. I’m in touch with those who matter cause I matter to them too. I was one of those people in High School that people either loved or hated but everyone knew my name, everyone knew who I was. I think it’s only fair at this stage of my life that I get to chose who knows who I am now.

But for those of you who will wonder where I am that night, please accept my warmest regards and follow this blog if you’d really like to know me. My name is Brittany Schmidt now, but you’ll always remember me as Brittany Hackett. I am married to a wonderful man, named Tom and we have a beautiful fur baby together, his name is Draco. I have a house, paid off my car, and spent the last six years out of 9 years at my job teaching 3 year old pre-School. I have good days and bad days, ups and downs, I don’t have any human children and I’m not sure if I want any. I was 4 votes away from winning ‘Most Unique’ in our graduating class, I still like to think of myself as unique and I still march to the beat of my own drum.

I wish you all the very best life has to offer and every now and then when I run into your parent or sibling I say a little prayer for you that you’re happy, healthy and surrounded by all the things that make you smile. That’s all anyone really needs to know.

Love you. Mean it.

Brittany

Xoxo

Newton’s 1st Law States: “an object will remain at rest or in uniform motion in a straight line unless acted upon by an external force. It may be seen as a statement about inertia, that objects will remain in their state of motion unless a force acts to change the motion.”

Cam Newton’s 1st Law: For Every Cam action there’s a media and critic OVERREACTION.”

Many would consider this story old news, but it’s still a touchy spot I’ve had to comment on especially when the Panthers played Thursday Night Football verses the Eagles. I’ve been pretty silent on the whole ‘Cam controversy’ but I’m breaking my silence today:

I’ve been a Panthers fan since I was six years old. The Panthers played the Jets that year, I just so happened to be watching the game with my dad and I instantly fell in love with them. I always joke that Tom was my second experience with love at first sight: the first was my Carolina Panthers. They were the underdogs much like I felt my entire life; I had to fight for every victory I achieved so did they. I have been a fan long before Cam Newton’s face graced our franchise and I will be a fan long after he retires.

In my 22 years of being a fan, I’ve been proud of almost every player (past and present) on my team. The only exception to this is Ray Caurruth (the man who killed his pregnant girlfriend and as a result permanently disabled his child). My team may not have won a Super Bowl but we’ve made it to two.

For all the crud people talk about Cam Newton and the Panthers they don’t see what amazing people and athletes with inspiring stories they have to share. Ya’ll don’t know that Steve Smith (former Panther) was told in college he would never be able to play because he wasn’t big enough but he laughed in the face of adversity and achieved that and so much more! Ya’ll don’t see all the good Cam does for kids and his community. You don’t realize my team is home to two Walter Payton Man of the year nominees (Thomas Davis and Greg Olsen). You don’t know Greg Olsen donates so much money to children hospitals to help children born with heart defects because his own son was born with one. You don’t know Kelvin Benjamin is playing every snap this season (2017) for his mom because she died in July. You don’t know our motto “Keep Pounding” was born out of symbolism of Sam Mills’ (a NJ native) very heart wrenching battle with cancer (which he lost). There’s a lot of players on the team that you don’t know their story, but if you ask me I would be happy to share that and many more with you.

My team may not have won a Super Bowl but I will always be proud to wear blue and black and cheer for them each and every week as long as I have breath in my body win or lose. I love my team and every player on it, I see them for the people they are, I look at the work they do off the field, I see what they do for their communities. When I look at the Carolina Panthers I see a team that is more than deserving of their chance in the spotlight, of their chance to hold up that Lombardi trophy. I don’t see my team through snapshots of various interpretations of a two minute interview like many other fans do. I will be a fan of the Panthers long after my body is ashes, my spirit will be on the sidelines every single game as a warm gentle Carolina breeze cheering on my boys wherever they’ll go. I still think Cam Newton did nothing wrong. So for the record: I stand with Cam, I stand with the Panthers, and if that makes me ‘sexist’ I’ll stand with that too.

Love you. Mean it.

Brittany

Xoxo