In the years since my husband died, many times I have heard the phrase: “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.” I’ve been thinking about that lately and am not sure if I agree.
There are so many different endings I could add to the phrase that would fit better for me…what doesn’t kill you…only nearly kills you…or what doesn’t kill you…you wish would kill you…or what doesn’t kill you … only brings you to your knees and beats the crap out of you…all of these have fit my life since Dave’s death.
There are the positive endings too…what doesn’t kill you, shows you how much pain you can endure…what doesn’t kill you, changes you into someone new…or what doesn’t kill you, killed parts of you not needed anymore.
All that said – I don’t really like the phrase. All that said – I know more people will say it to me. When they say it, it is never negative and many times means they believe I am a stronger person having survived my husband’s death. They mean well. They mean to help me. All I can ever think of is – what didn’t kill me taught me surrender.
Surviving tragedy is often associated with strength. I imagine that people see my changes and my ability to keep going as strength. They often say that to me. They often admire my ability to move on with life, raise my children alone and get up every day as strength.
To me, it is surrender. I have learned that for me, what didn’t kill me taught me that I had very little control of this life I lead. It has taught me to surrender my life every day. I wake up, I realize another day has come, and I live that day. I don’t often live tomorrow or yesterday, I live today.
To me, that is surrender. I was a control freak in my previous life. I talked the talk of living in the moment, but I’m not convinced I walked the walk. I am now a recovering control freak and now I know that really the only thing I can control is me…and even some things about me I won’t be able to control…just like my husband wasn’t able to control the fact that he got pancreas cancer and died.
If it was his choice, his option to control, his moment that didn’t kill him…he’d be here today. He too learned surrender as he faced his disease and his death…maybe surrender was a lesson we were both on a journey to learn. His grace through his journey definitely started me on the path toward peaceful surrender.
I have spoken of peace many times in my writings. This “what doesn’t kill me” peace is something that has only come to me since his death. The concerns I used to have about daily doodahs, whatever they may be, don’t get under my skin as much.
Now, I did mention I am a recovering control freak…so, some stuff still does get me, but this peace I do not equate with strength. I equate this peace with my nearly unbearable weakness that came when my husband died. That feeling that life was spinning completely out of control. That anger I faced every day as the sun rose…I was so angry that I was left to face another day alone.
Day after day I faced my anger, my weakness, my sadness, my heartbreak and I was reminded that the only reason I felt any of these things was because I dared to love with all my heart. When I surrendered to the fact that my pain was only another fruit of my love, I could surrender to it. I could surrender to it every day because I knew that with love at the core I would survive.
So, what didn’t kill me…maybe didn’t make me stronger, but more aware that love really is the way through our lives. Love is the healing ale that keeps me moving, breathing, surviving and surrendering every day. So, for this love, this particular love for my husband that didn’t kill me…it made me more capable of loving more deeply, humbly, honestly and completely.
Christine Thiele 2011
Tags: anger, Depression, guilt, signs and connections
Christine,
What an insightful story, your story of surrender. I, too, hated it when people said I was strong, am strong, after my son’s death by suicide. I had never been so weak and pathetic in all my life.
In time, I learned to surrender and knew that was what I needed for my life to continue. My new life after my son.
Thank you for sharing and giving me more hope.
Christine,
I cant count how many times people have told me in the last few months since my boyfriend passed away how strong they think I am, and have passed along the saying “whatever doesnt kill you only makes you stronger” as their advice to me. I am glad to know that I am not the only one who found that saying to be incorrect. People tell me I am strong when I feel nothing but weakness. They tell me they couldnt handle it if it happened to them. They dont realize, as I didnt before losing him, that you would be surprised how many mornings you wake up even when your last thought at night is please dont make me go through another day. That you keep going because you have to and that the person you lost would be so upset to see you just give up your life when the life they had was taken from them. Somehow, I made it through his funeral, his birthday that followed two weeks later, and now our anniversary today, and I will make it through his burial and my birthday next month, all the milestones to come. Not because I am strong, not because I want to. But because that is what we do. We surrender to what we cant change, somehow adjust and keep going. When my time comes, and I look for him on the other side, I dont want to see disappointment on his face that I just completely gave up and wasted what he wasnt allowed to have. I am also a recovering control freak who now realizes I have very little control over what will happen in my life and many things that I once exerted alot of energy and concern over just arent that important anymore. I am still so new to all of this and am still trying to figure out who I am in this new life thats been forced upon me. But I am feeling this way because I loved him so much and he loved me. If he and I hadnt allowed ourselves to fall so completely in love with each other, I probably wouldnt be this way now. Weakness and heartbreak aside, I wouldnt change a thing. Someone asked me once if I knew how it would end, if I would still have gone out on that first date. Of course I would have. My response to her was probably bordering on rude, like how could you ask me that, but later when I really thought about it, it just hit me how different my life wouldve been had I never been graced by knowing him. If he had only been a quick glimpse in the obituaries and a murmured , “thats so sad, this guy was so young” and then turn the page and never think about him again. I have a huge hole in my life now that will never be filled, but the hole that would be there if I had never gone on that first date and all that followed, would be so very much bigger. I’m not sure yet how to end that phrase for me personally. Whatever doesnt kill you, only makes you….? I know it isnt stronger. But in the years to come as I learn how to live without his physical presence, I am sure I will fill in the blank. Finding this website and reading the stories of others in similar situations is a great help in moving forward each day.
And on a personal note to you directly Christine, I am so sorry about your loss. I have a close family member who is nearing the end of his fight with pancreatic cancer, and while I could never know how you feel, I know how hard it is to be helpless watching what this disease can do.
Vanessa and Christine,
thank you for writing these expressions. I lost my significant other and father of my children in a car accident on 4/10/11. I am having trouble returning to anything (like work) that helped to support and keep normalacy within our home. He was young, I am young and are children are even so much younger that I can imagine that I will have to do this journey alone forever while on Earth. I am really relieved to know that the feelings I am experiencing are natural, normal and will probably always exist. I feel so lost and alone at times. We were surrounded by family and friends intitially, which I knew would soon dwindle and then fade. I just wish I could pick up the phone and say anything to him – anything.