Compiled
by Kota Discussion Group
In Honor and Loving
Memory of Our Children
The creator of this
Grief Journey Q & A
was Stephanie Marrotek;
the current coordinator
is Poppy Hullings who
posts questions once
a day or week or month
and invites all members
of our online discussion
& support group to post
answers. Some answer
only to the group, some
members have elected
to share their insights
in a more public way
through this column as
well. Our hope is that
you will find some spark
of inspiration or comfort
or help here. These words
are not offered as prescription
for the ways we "should"
handle grief. These are
just insights into how
others are managing
day by day after the
death of a child.
Answers:
- The three main rooms
in my emotional mansion
are jealousy, survival,
and anger.
The jealousy room is a very green
room, every object is green.
There are books about pregnancy
and newborns that I cannot get
into because they are behind
locked glass. I can see them
but can't read them. There are
closets full of old maternity
clothes, a crib, and baby toys
that are also locked away. When
I am in this room, I feel very
alone, very isolated. I feel
chained to this room, I feel
like I spend so much time in
this room. I want to leave it
but find it
very difficult to . Someday I
want to be able to lock this
door and never open it again.
The anger room is very dark.
The shades are always drawn,
no lights are on. There is just
one hard chair in the middle
of the room, with a punching
bag nearby. I scream alot in
this room, I hit the bag. I try
and release as much anger as
I can. I notice I come in here
alot less than I used to but
there are days I still come in,
usually after I leave the jealousy
room.
The survival room is a room I
was surprised by. I didn't think
I would ever come in here but
now find I spend alot of time
here. It helps me to read the
library of books on other parents
and mothers who have survived. There
are lots of comfy blankets that
I can wrap myself in. There is
an aquarium that brings me peace.
There is a small pool that I
can immerse myself into and let
the water just rinse everything
away. This room allows me to
make it one more day
and go into the rest of the world
and live life again.
- The three biggest rooms
in my emotional mansion
are Fear, Denial and
Acceptance.
Acceptance is the hardest
room to go into. For
it is here that I have
to leave fear and denial
at the door. In this
room are soft beds with
downy white comforters,
and big white couches
to rest in. It is alot
of work to find this
room, so when I get here,
I need to rest. The music
playing in this room
is peaceful and serene. One
of the main focuses
in the room is the firepace
in the center of the
room. This fireplace
is where all the bad
things have to go. There
is a huge picture window
surrounded by gauzy white
curtains, and to stand
and look out the window
is breathtaking, for
the view is amazing.
If you look into the
distance you can see
a terribly windey road
fraught with clifts and
drops offs, and the road
winds down to a flat
barren plain that stretches
for miles, but slowly
and softly gives way
to a beautiful meadow
that extends to the
house. Another object
in this room is a large
journal. But once you
write upon a page and
turn to the next, you
can never turn back.
This is my acceptance
room.
My favorite room is
the Denial room. I love
to go in there and escape
from reality. There is
a computer, with high
speed internet access,
food at my reach, a babysitter
for Charlie, and lots
and lots of houseplants
and scrapbooking things.
This is where I go to
forget all the bad things
in my life. But it is
a little dark in here,
and I am always searching
for a lamp, which is
never to be found. But
here in my denial room,
there are many many photos,
of only happy people.
There is nothing sad
here....but undertones
of depression do linger.
The main color of this
room is blue and the
music here is lively
but dark.
My last room is my Fear
room. This room is
black, and it is hard
to see where you are
going. The objects in
this room are big and
shaped like monsters
or ghosts. The music
playing is gothic and
frightening. The furniture
is all uncomfortable
and too small. And the
photos are blurry and
uncertain. There are
no windows and finding
the door again to get
out, is next to impossible.
Here in my fear room
is my past, and the chains
that bind me to it.
- Welcome to my
emotional mansion. There
are three very important
rooms in this mansion: my
peace room, my war room,
and my neutral room.
My peace room is my favorite
room. It is filled
with lots of sunlight that
bring in pleasant and positive
vibes to fill my soul
with peace. It is
the room where I make peace
with my own demons and
peace with outside
influences that may be
negative or cause negativity. I
find forgiveness in this
room in the novels of truth
that rest on the bookshelf.
Unlike the peace room,
my war room is not a happy
place. This is a
room where I fight with
the negativity in my life. I
struggle in this room searching
for a way out to find peace. I
feel chained sometimes. I
feel like I'm suffocating
as if I were in hell. There
is a pool in this room. It
is not a relaxing pool. If
I get as far as the pool,
I sometimes feel like I'm
a duck that can't swim
struggling to stay afloat...paddling
my weary legs to find stability.
My neutral room is the
room where I find a happy
medium. In this room,
I do not completely find
peace, but I do not fight
the demons either. I
find reasoning in
this room to understand
and deal with both
negative and positive aspects
of life. I do not dwell
on the past in this room;
however, I may not find
forgiveness either. I
just learn to let go and
let things be sometimes...to
be neutral. Some
things can not be changed
in life, so I must stay
neutral on some subjects.
My emotional mansion can
be complex in each room
like life itself.
- In my emotional mansion
there are three rooms.
Melancholy, Happiness
and Love
The Melancholy Room
is long, quiet, dark
and cold. When I walk
into this room, I am
always wearing period
clothing. Something that
a governess would wear,
dark and drab, complete
with a corset and lace
up boots.
My hair is always darker too,
pulled back into a very tight
bun that always gives me a
headache. Because of
my clothing, it is always
hard to breathe in this
room. I always feel drained
of energy. Thick dusty
drapes cover floor to
ceiling windows all along
the far wall. Amazingly
shards of light show on the
ceiling and occasionally
along the length of the
window coverings. These
rays of light are the only
things keeping the Melancholy
Room from being pitch
black. Across from the wall
of windows, is the fireplace.
The Mantle has ornate
carvings of flowers and
vines all along the top
and down the sides. The
fireplace itself is large
enough for me to walk
into. Covered in soot
and never lit, it is barren
and cold. No wood, no
pokers. Nothing. I often
spend time standing there,
and kicking the soot from fires
past with my boots. Each click
of my heels sends little clouds
of dust into the air. Sometimes
there isn’t a
sound in the room, but the click
of my heels on the wood floor
as I pace along the length of
the room or the howling of the
wind outside the windows. Sometimes,
I sit on the single piece of
furniture, a settee with charcoal
gray fabric, placed exactly in
the middle of the room. If I
need music, it will play from
the speakers in the ceiling,
suddenly and for as long as I
want it too. Jazz, R & B,
Beethoven, or Violent Femmes.
Whatever I want, it is playing.
While it plays softly or loudly,
depending on the music, I sit
on my settee and work on my frown
lines, just staring into space
and crying on the inside. Others
have required of me that I be
silent, and the Melancholy Room
is where I go to practice that
and grieve for the son they don’t
want me to talk about. When
I was very first thrust into
this room, it was my home for
over a year. Finally I was
able to fight and claw my way
out of this room. There are
still scratches from my nails
along the doorway. From that
room, I found the Happiness
Room.
There is a window in
the Happiness Room, with
light blue, lacy curtains
on it. I can see the
green trees, grass and
curbside outside of this
room, and often I am
touched by the spring
breezes. It is where
I keep the façade
of my smiling face, hanging
on a nail on the wall.
Sometimes I smile for real
in this room because I
can reach out to the world.
It is the opportunity room,
equipped with my desk,
computer and telephone.
The place where I make
my plans for a better life.
The place where I pretend
to come to terms with the
possibility of never being
a mommy to a living child.
That is when I use my façade
the most. When I am only
pretending to be happy.
When I first came to this
room, I used my façade
constantly. Now I only
use it occasionally, like
on Mother’s Day when
all of the ‘mothers’ get
presents, but me. In the
corner of this room, there
is also a shower stall.
I go there when I feel ‘dirty’ after
using my façade.
When I feel that I’ve
been disloyal to my son,
because I didn’t
make a fuss on Mother’s
Day, or when I tell someone
that I don’t have
any kids, because to say
that I have one that is
dead will make me run for
the Melancholy Room, and
I don’t always want
to be there. Sometimes
I like to breathe. Often
when I am in this room,
I will hear tapping at
the door. Little tiny rat-tat-tats
will assault my hearing.
I never answer the door,
when the I hear those taps,
because I know that evil
little doubt monsters are
there. Their sole purpose
is to drag me back to the
Melancholy Room, by my
hair. They like to see
me in my catatonic state.
It gives them power. And
even with my fake face
on, I don’t want
to give them power. If
I choose when to go to
the Melancholy Room, I
maintain power over them.
Something I haven’t
always had.
The third room is the
Love room. There is a
skylight in the middle
of the ceiling that illuminates
the entire room, day
or night for some reason.
It is painted pink, with
red hearts of all shapes
and sizes dotting the
walls. Here there are
pictures of Patrick,
Apollo and Keevah. This
is also where I keep
a dresser full of Colin
Michael’s
mementos. I keep the pregnancy
books, in the bottom drawer,
where I normally don’t
look at them. I put his
clothes in the top drawer.
The rest of the drawers
are empty. On top of the
dresser I have stacked
my PCOS books, because
I want to read to make
sure that I’ll be
healthy for Patrick, Apollo
and Keevah. This is not
something that is important
to me when I am in the
Melancholy Room, so sometimes
I am playing catch-up.
There is a big comfy couch
in that room. Huge and
blue. Next to the couch
is a table with a stereo
on it. There are CDs on
the table and piled neatly
around the table and blocking
some of the couch. In this room,
I am always listening to music,
normally cheesy love songs from
the 70’s and 80’s.
There are no visible doors
in this room. Because the only
way to get out is through one
of two secret doors. Each leads
to one of the other rooms,
and I can never quite remember
which one leads where. But
I always know that at any moment
the fancy may strike me and
I will choose a door, and accept
my fate.
- This is therapeutic
but makes no sense....except
to me...:) Warning made...
In my emotional mansion you will
find many rooms but 3 main rooms.
Darkness, Justice and Tolerance.
The first is dark. There are
many that branch off from this
room, but this is the root of
all of them. At its heart is
a sculpture like a glass ant.
It is nearly completely dark
except for a fireplace which
sheds light on a map stretched
out over a table. spiders crawl
across it and fight here. In
it are journals of things said
and things done and they are
written in purple chalk and wrinkled
with tears. There are cupboards
and doors I must not open here.
The next room has an extensive
library. With vaulted ceilings
there is a nice sound to it as
you walk in. It is being repaired
froma powerful storm that rocked
it. There is a pool of holy water,
but goldfish live there with
many shiny pennies. Pictures
adorn the sides and there is
carpeting on the floor...the
floor has marks where someone
has been pacing. All the clocks
are wrong here.
The final room is covered with
posters. Some of events, some
of stars, some of places. There
is a large nude statue holding
glass with food on it (apples,
grapes, cheese, etc). Music is
blaring and there are dogs on
the furniture. There is a punching
bag and a policeman is holding
a gun near it. tie dyed bean
bags are te only real furniture
here. In here, you can scream,
and it is only heard by you.
- Welcome to my emotional
mansion. You have my permission
to tour three rooms here.
The first is my "at peace"
place. This place is actually
a large covered front porch
with a big sturdy swing
bench on it and stairs
that lead down to a pool
made of red clay. The water
in the pool is warm or
cool as you wish. The porch
is always breezy and comfortable.
The swing has big cushioned
pillows on it so that you
can curl up comfortably
on it. There are no dangerous
things here, so you can
be barefoot and naked if
you like. There is so much
room on the porch that
you can do yoga out there
-- really stretch out your
arms for the Elephant and
never touch a thing. It
is a private area -- no
neighbors or others to
bother you, but there is
no barbed fence or anything
-- just a huge ring of
forest trees with the distant
sound of ocean surf to
keep you protected.
The next area you may
roam is my "Huntress" place.
This is again outside,
behind a house, a piece
of land next to a fast
rushing stream that is
fed by the melting snow
of a nearby mountain. There
are stepped pieces of land
going down to the water.
The water is cold, clear,
and shocking. There are
lots of rocks around for
you to noisily throw into
the water for making big,
loud, angry splashes. There
is a nook where some of
the water way spills over.
And in this nook, you will
often find carved spears
and other tools that have
been left for you by the
huntress of these lands.
If you take the time to
really talk to the fish,
ask them questions, then
they often answer by popping
a gem of some sort out
of their mouths. Very often
there are greens around
that are edible and have
a healing property. If
you are respectful, the
huntress will show you
how to survive here.
The last part of this
tour will go inside the
house to the dark wood
kitchen. It is cozy and
warm in here with a table
built next to a wall bench
nook -- the nook covered
in pillows so it is comfortable
to curl up here, too. This
area is for nourishment
of all kinds. Food, obviously.
Always homemade and good
for you -- including things
like creamy tomato soup
or fresh berries and cream.
But also there are books,
music, window, kleenex,
bells, candles and more
here. In this room you
can be sad, fearful, helpful,
intuitive, inquisitive,
happy, noisy, silly, anything
you want and need to be.
And the result of emotions
expressed here will always
be something constructive
in the end.
We'll have more Q &
A next month...
This is a discussion and
support group held online
thru the free services of
Yahoo Groups. Stephanie
Marrotek is the host of
the Grief Journey Q &
A. The full group is moderated
by the staff of KotaPress.
The answers given in this
Q & A were offered by
the generous hearts of the
members of our online group.
We cannot thank you enough
for your candor and honesty.
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