What Kept Me Here
What Gets You Through a Bad Day
After Maddie died, there were days I wasn't sure life was worth it.
A while ago my dad sat down on my bed and asked whether I'd ever felt that way. I told him yes. I wrote about that conversation [here]. This piece is about what got me through.
In my book I wrote a list of thirteen things. Thirteen was too many. I padded it. When I went back to it this year, eight held up.
None of them fixed anything. Grief doesn't get fixed. But on the worst days I could usually find one of them, and one was enough to get me to tomorrow.
Getting through the day
Laughter. Maddie had an audacious sense of humour. Remembering how she laughed reminded me I was still allowed to.
Sunshine. This one sounds too simple to count. It counts. On a clear day, with sun on my face, things felt more possible than they had an hour earlier. I noticed the difference on the grey days too.
Moving every day. A walk or a workout, every day, with an audiobook or a podcast in my ears. It was one thing I could count on doing when I couldn't count on much else.
Gratitude. This one was hard at first. Being grateful felt wrong when the thing I wanted most was gone. What I found was that small things still counted. A text from a friend. Zac and Sawyer laughing at something in the next room.
The people
Family and friends. A kind word from someone who loved me barely made a dent in what I was feeling. I want to be straight about that. Nothing anyone said could lift me out of it.
It still mattered. On days when almost nothing got through, a small thing from one of a few people was sometimes the only thing that did.
If you're close to someone who's grieving, go in knowing this. You won't fix it. Nobody can. Show up anyway.
What pulled me forward
A purpose. I started a business at a time when I felt completely lost. It showed me I could still build something. Years later, that same need became The MentorWell. It gets me up in the morning, and it's why I'm writing this.
The future. Watching the people I love reach their milestones. Wanting to leave something good for whoever comes next. Picturing that kept me going on days when next week felt too far away.
Curiosity. This one came from a mistake.
When Maddie opened up to me, I went straight into fixing it. I gave advice. It came from love, and it made her pull back.
Later I watched other parents do exactly the same thing with their kids, over and over.
So I changed how I listened. I stopped trying to fix things and started asking questions I actually wanted the answers to. What was that like? What happened next? What do you think?
My conversations with Zac and Sawyer changed. So did conversations with people I worked with, and with parents who reached out to tell me about their own kids. When you come to a conversation curious instead of trying to fix it, it lands completely differently.
Your list
Most parents I talk to could list what their kid loves faster than what keeps themselves going. Some couldn't do either.
Try it. Write down what gets you through a bad day. If you get stuck at two, pay attention to that.
Then ask your teen the same question. Ask it in the car, when nobody has to make eye contact. Be curious. Whatever they say, hold off on fixing it.
Their answer will tell you more than "how was school" ever has.
If you or your teen are having days like the ones I described, you can call or text 9-8-8 any time, anywhere in Canada.
You May Also Like
My Dad Asked Me If Life Was Still Worth Living
The conversation that made me say out loud what I'd been carrying. My father asked the question almost nobody asks. (Use the live URL once it's published, and link this piece from that one too.)
You Don't Have to Know What to Say
For anyone standing next to a person who's grieving and afraid of getting it wrong.
Why Parents Hide Worry About Teen Mental Health
Why so many parents keep a worry to themselves, and what it costs when they do.
I wrote the second and third descriptions from their titles. Check them before they go live.
FAQ
How do I get my teenager to open up?
Ask when nothing is wrong, in a setting where nobody has to make eye contact. Then listen without trying to solve it. Most teens shut down at the point where the conversation turns into advice.
What do I say when my teen tells me something hard?
Less than you think. "That sounds like a lot. What was that like?" keeps the conversation open. Jumping to a fix closes it.
Is it normal for a parent to struggle after a loss while still raising kids?
Yes. Grieving parents describe the same things over and over: the fog, the forgetting, the effort of appearing fine at work. It's common and it's worth telling someone about.
What helps when nothing anyone says makes a difference?
Small things you can repeat. A daily walk. Sun on your face. One person who checks in. None of it fixes anything. It gets you through the day, which is the job on the worst days.
Where can I get help right now?
Call or text 9-8-8 in Canada, or 988 in the US, any time.
