How Have you processed death?

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ruveyn, thank God for the Kadisha people. They're so efficient and do a great job. Here, they're the official organization that deals with all the stuff you mention. There's no other one. But they don't bury in coffins, because unlike other countries, here it's not compulsory by law. The Kadisha guys are the ones who pick up the pieces of the bodies after a terrorist attack. They're truly saints.

Death....

Most people who died around me I had no particular attachment to.

My mom's dad died when I was very young. Most would say I was too young to understand what happened.

My dad's mom died when I was a kid. I knew the significance of it, but I knew she had died because she had health issues and for a couple of days my dad couldn't get her on the phone, very unusual. I kinda knew. I was more fascinated by the body at the funeral home than anything else.

My dad' father died before I was born. My mom's mother died when I was an adult. We all knew it was coming, but the funeral was emotional. My whole family was ill when we got home...stress from the event. Although I felt nothing for the loss, I didn't emote. Nonetheless the stress did affect me as I could sense the emotions of others. It was very uncomfortable being around so many people emoting.

People I knew died since then. Never felt anything for any of them. Lost a couple of uncles now, lost an aunt...for me, I always thought it was because I rejected my family because they had little to do with me when I was growing up. My sister always stayed in touch, so I figured that's why she got so emotional over these losses.

I lost a friend in 1993-94. It was sudden, no warning. He died on the job. I felt nothing because it was so sudden, but when I started to process it, I was more angry and maybe felt a little guilty about the loss. I lashed out with anger against some people, but there was a lot of other stuff going on...not just the loss.

I accept death as a fact of life. I should feel more when someone is gone, but I don't. As I don't get close to too many people, I figure that's why I'm so indifferent. However, I suppose if someone matters to me, the emotions eventually surface in some fashion...often much later than the actual death and funeral.

Yeah, I've often said the same thing about times when people in my life have died.

Granted, I cannot say that a great many people were actually close to me. I did not really know any of my extended family (grandparents/aunts/uncles, etc.), partly because of physical distance (several thousand miles), and partly because of a sort of mutual emotional distance that everyone in the family seemed to keep. No one seemed very committed to each other. What I knew of my extended family is that they seemed to enjoy doing their own thing (could this be my genetic basis for AS?).Communication or actual contact was sparse to the point of being nonexistant. So when some of them have died, I felt nothing. They were names only, not fully persons to me.

The situation was fundamentally different regarding the death of my mother. She was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was only 3 years old, and slowly declined until she finally passed away when I was 15. The difference is that when she actually died, I again felt basically nothing. I remember going to school the next day. I didn't feel sadness, or grief, or anger, or anything, really. Past therapists have suggested that the reason for this is because I had pre-emptively grieved my mother's death while she was still alive; that her slow decline allowed me to emotionally detach myself from her, so that death didn't really signify anything when it happened. Her death was a relief, actually. For her, in that her suffering had ended; but for the rest of us also, because having a dying family member in the house for years is a terrible weight to shoulder. I think that I really felt glad when she died, but was afraid to show it, because that reaction is generally seen as inappropriate.

When I hear about death, of those I know or those I don't, I do not feel sadness and grief. I am hesitant to say that Autism is the cause of this. For me, it has more to do with philosohpy. I personally do not believe in death as being a negative thing. It's a stage of existence, as much as birth is. Our incarnate selves are just yet another manifestation of LIFE on this planet. That it comes and goes is just part of a biological cycle. When I die, I would love to be composted for fertilizer and spread around in my garden.

You know, I do feel attachments to people. But it is so hard to hang onto these attachments. I can see that they are fleeting things. I have a tendency to let relationships and friendships fall away, because I cannot get deeply into them. This is where I think Autism may have a role. A comparable metaphor might be like this: If human relationships are like a big pool, I stay in the shallow end. I meet people, I might get to know them, and can perhaps even become somewhat intimate with them. But it feels like there is always a distance there. I can't get into the deep end. So when it comes to death, I feel no lingering attachment to a person. There is no pervading sense of loss. I certainly may have loved this person and cared for their well-being, but do not feel pain at their death. I don't really see a problem with this. I think I have a good perspective on how to process death.

Fascinating thread, by the way

Last edited by Acacia on 16 Mar 2009, 11:16 am, edited 1 time in total.

As a kid growing up I never really felt anything when someone close to me passed, and my parents sheltered me from funerals so I'm 29 years old and have never been to one, and don't want to go to one.

But I found out a few days ago that an old neighbor of mine died. He was a little old man who lived about 3-4 houses down from me when I was a kid. I loved him and his wife as if they were my own grandparents, I spent SO MUCH time sitting out on their front porch with them in the swing, drinking sweet tea and just talking. They had their little cute nicknames for me and always said hi when I walked past on the sidewalk. Even when I went through my rough teen years, they were always right there to talk to. It really bothers me that old Joe has died, and I don't know what to do. I want to send his wife a sympathy card but I don't know what to say! He died about a month ago so I missed the funeral, though I probably wouldn't have gone anyway. I can't make myself stop in to say hi to her because I know she's lonely and I'll never get to leave. Even when they were together and not lonely, it was hard to stop by and see them and not get caught up for literally hours at a time sitting on their front porch.

Anyone here listen to country music and know that Brooks & Dunn song about "old man Wrigley"? I LOVE that song and always thought of Joe as my Old Man Wrigley, and I knew this day would eventually come though it bothers me still. In fact Kix Brooks is from my hometown, so it's like I have another connection to that song as well.

I live about 15 miles away now but I would still stop in every few months to sit on their front porch and talk about what was new in life, and the deterioration of their old neighborhood. And though I'm an adult now nearing 30, I still couldn't help but to think of myself as a little child when I'd be sitting on their porch passing the time.

I deal with death with acceptance, courage and authority. Through my own long term illness I have made a deal with Father Time, and the outcome is that HE will be waiting for ME.

But on the whole, I know and accept that death is an inevitable event, which I embrace warmly and with comfort. This has helped m,e to no end in coping wioth the uncertainty of life, and it's opposite.

i have traditionally had a very difficult time processing death. I noticed a long time ago that my grieving process wasn't "normal"..and I would beat myself up over it..so that while it would look like I was grieving, I was actually upset over my inability to grieve "properly"....

A death procession topic

I do not like funerals, but I understand the reason for them. People need a time and place to grieve, but if there is no grief, then to go to a funeral is pointless. But I went to the one below anyway.

The most recent funeral was for a brother in law who died in an accident in February, 2007. My children went, as it was an uncle they liked, and I did, out of a weird sort of curiosity (the casket was open and I wanted to see how he looked.)

The strange part was that the viewing of "John" was done over two days, and after a while the body began to emit an odour--a stinky combo of rotten meat and formaldehyde. I think John would have gotten a kick out of this contradictory display of phony bonhommie and tears. His widow did not give a damn--only that she lost her US citizenship for complicated reasons. She also got a hefty insurance settlement and her home was now mortgage free after only two years of living in it. There were no debts so she made money out of an untimely demise. He was cremated for two reasons--lower cost and the fact that the ground was too frozen to dig for a casket burial.

His ashes were scattered somewhere in Alaska, and she married another US citizen in less than a year's time.

Sometimes good things happen to bad people.

omg, Sue. Only an Aspie could write such a naked truth account.

im banned from going to funerals because i laugh. on me dying i havent really thought about it, obviously i dont wanna go out in pain so i'll be all hopped up on some of the best drugs

I had aunts and grandparents and other relatives die when I was a kid, but I wasn't allowed to go to a funeral till I was in my twenties, and that was my dad. I do recall crying then, but rather oddly, I remember wondering why I was crying. I was in couselling at the time, and my counsellor said (she was a sweet lady and usually spot-on) 'It's because you loved him,' and I was like: did I? I remembered having a good relationship with him as a kid, but when I got older he got nasty, and I came to the conclusion that because he was a male raised in a particular way in a particular era, he was, sadly, not the kind of guy who ever could understand the kind of woman I'd become. And I suppose part of it was to do with not having known him. And part of it, also, was that it brought out a lot of the rage and pain and frustration from some other things I was going through in my life and marriage at the time, which I wasn't supposed to show I felt bad about.

My mother died earlier this year, and the only time I cried was briefly on the way back home. That was more from relief than anything else; I'd put on my 'hello, I am a normal person' face round relatives all weekend and I just collapsed from the effort the minute we drove out of sight. I felt a little weepy on seeing the seldom-seen family friends who'd come along, but to be honest, I didn't feel anything around losing her. I'd been wondering how I would handle it because we did not have a 'normal' mother-daughter relationship for many reasons, most of which were down to issues she had with me as a person. I couldn't mourn for her the way I would be expected to as a 'good daughter', because I wasn't her 'good daughter'; I was someone who could never please her, and it's a bit late to start now. I felt relief because she wasn't in pain any more, but that's something I'd feel for any human being who'd been suffering chronic illness. (I got the biggest kick out of the fact that at the ash scattering, her remains ended up all over my husband's shoes. We nearly peed ourselves laughing over this, for reasons I won't attempt to explain.)

The one way I dealt with it, in my own way, was by writing my mother an unsent latter which said a lot of the things I didn't have the guts to say to her when she was alive. It may not accomplish anything practical, but it felt good. It was a release for me.

The way people deal with death and remembrance fascinates me, actually. The official set rituals like funerals are interesting in themselves, but the more personal things people do are even more so, because they're less about the 'done thing' and more about what it is people are actually feeling (or not), what they actually want to acknowledge.

millie, This post is not easily answered but, I'll do my best to put forth a reasonably valid response as best as possible.. Myself, I've had a great deal of unpleasantness in my family from loosing both grandparents on both sides of my family, an aunt, great-grandmother,and lastly my brother therefore, all of this has impacted my life in various ways one could say, mainly from having to deal with much depression in my life over the span of 22yrs now. Still, I manage to live my life as best as possible despite how at times I do feel lonelyand sincerely try to hide such feelings for, I'd rather not anyone else notice such or have awareness of such things, if I may say as such.. Personally, I realise my own life-span has been reduced somewhat from not only managing Depression but, diabetes does tend to cut away years off one's life however, I'm always pressing onwards despite the fact, I tend to feel alone in the world at times...


ProfessorX

Yes I can say the same as others, we all know that blank feeling, as if it hasnt really happened at all and they are going to walk through the door tomorrow. I have been to a couple of funerals and memorial services and to me it seemed like an elaborately staged play, it just didnt feel real, and I couldnt shake the feeling that they werent gone at all.

This is what led me to AS, it made me realise I was more different to other people than I had thought. I was always the weird girl but when I started to lose friends and relatives and I realised my reaction was so different to theirs it occurred to me that my weirdnesses were not just a surface thing, that I was different to other people through and through.

I am a spiritual person and I feel it is important for me to keep the faith and believe that when my time comes the people (and animals) who went before me will be there already, waiting for me.

Depends.

In freezing weather, a woodchipper and compost pile ususally suffices.

In warmer weather, a meatgrinder, or tub full of concentrated hydrochloric acid.

When my grandfather died I walked around the apartment thinking what I could bring with me home as the rest were gathered around the body mourning and crying. I have never cried for him. They were quite mad at me and called me a cold hearted looter (I was 14 and thought he wouldn't need it anymore).

When my cat died (last year, she became about 16 years old and I loved her) I cried so hard my heart nearly stopped.

My grandfather I didn't know very well and I didn't care at all.
My cat was my everything, the only thing I ever showed my true emotions to and she responded equally. We had a connection, more than what I ever felt towards my grandfather or ever will towards any human.

I never felt anything special about such situations even if I liked those people whose funerals I attended. I would like to be able to experience feelings (so also the feeling of grief) like ordinary people do for one day because I’m extremely curious how it is to be so sad and driven to ultimate despair. When I was younger I even didn’t believe at all others could have any other feelings in this respect than I had and I thought they were only hiding those real feelings from me – now I know I was wrong, I’d like to see how it feels though.

As a child I experienced something similar: I took pleasure in my uncle’s death (he was nice, it wasn’t like that I disliked him) because it meant I could get his belongings I always admired every time I paid a visit in his flat: books, shells, a figurine of a small doll dressed in a national costume which was always standing on the TV set… Uncle was a bachelor, he lived alone so all family members simply took home things that previously belonged to him which they liked. For at least several weeks afterwards adults were scanning his flat searching for hidden money – before he died, uncle had time to tell one cousin about cash hidden in his house but nobody ever found it.

Several years later when my grandfather also died and my mother and I visited another uncle of mine on this occassion, I saw his daughter had a cool collection of s-f novels. For quite a long time afterwards I had fantasies the whole family died in an accident so as I could take possession of them (the book I cared about most – 451 Fahrenheit, when many years later finally I had an occasion to read it, turned out to be boring).