Help with Grief

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Information about Grief that can help

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We write about the dead to make sense of our losses, to become less haunted, to turn ghosts into words, to transform absence into language. Death is an unparalleled experience, so we look to death narratives, and to the people in our lives who are dying, for some previously unknowable insights, which we hope they will pass on to us in some way.
— Edwidge Danticat, from The art of Death

 

Grief is one of the most misunderstood natural processes that all human beings experience, and often overlooked as a catalyst for growth. Below I answer basic questions, based on a lifetime of experience and research. I am not a psychologist or therapist. I am an artist who enjoys reading about grief, talking about it, and being around people who are in it.

What is grief?

Grief is the normal, natural response to loss. It is powerful. It’s also an important part of growing up. As Queen Elizabeth ll famously said, “Grief is the price we pay for love.” (She was actually quoting a British psychologist named Dr. Colin Murray Parkes.) I would add that we learn a lot about love through our grief.

 

What are the five stages of grief and are they still relevant?

The five “stages” of grief, as outlined and defined by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross have been criticized and discussed for the five or so decades since she published her seminal work, On Death and Dying. Though her research was with terminally ill patients, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance became widely used for understanding the symptoms of survivors. They can be a useful framework for talking about grief but are largely misunderstood by the general public, which has led to much of the criticism. The term “stages” implies a sequential order, which she never intended. Many others since Kubler-Ross have proposed models of grief, but many, if not most, derive from her important work. The main thing to understand about “the stages” is that they are a framework, to use or ignore as needed, and there are other frameworks to explore. I think of the classic “stages of grief” as some of the natural responses one might have (in any order and often simultaneously) in the wake of a loss. But we can also experience a lot of other things too. Like guilt and regret, joy and confusion. The list is endless.

Human beings grieve constantly throughout life. The mechanics of the process are the same. You can grieve a lost shoe, a lost opportunity, or a lost pet the same way you grieve a loved one. The depth and duration of the process will vary in proportion to the magnitude of the loss and one’s experience with grief. We know how deeply the loss of a beloved toy can affect a child. As we mature, we learn to cycle through the same aspects of grief in a few minutes, a day, or a few weeks. But when a family member dies, unexpectedly or not, it may take years or the rest of one’s life to feel all those feelings. Multiple losses may result in compounded grief.

If you’d like to read more on how misconceptions of the “stages of grief” can backfire, I like this opinion piece from the NY Times. Even though it dates from 2015, it’s still relevant today.

 

What is normal grief? How long should it last?

“Normal” is defined by what society deems normal, and everyone grieves differently. A teenager may want to go right back to school after their parent dies, but a mother may stay in bed for months after losing a child. Both are common responses.

In contemporary American society, grief is barely acknowledged. Most people in the U.S. believe grief should take two days to two weeks. In movies or TV, it’s over in a matter of minutes. The belief that grief is momentary is reflected in the fact that most employers expect the bereaved to come back to work or take unpaid time off. I think most psychologists and therapists would agree that each grief experience is unique and open-ended.

 In other words, there is no timeline for grief. It depends on the loss and it takes as long as it takes.

 

Is it okay to grieve alone?

Yes, but we should not grieve entirely alone. Most people are more comfortable crying by themselves. We often apologize when tears start to flow. When someone cries in front of me, I say, “Good,” because it’s good to feel your feelings and express them in the company of others. And it is even more beneficial to cry in the presence of a family member or close friend who understands. We are human. We are built to comfort one another, not to cry alone.    

I advocate public displays of grief (which is why I love Anderson Cooper’s podcast because he cries openly) and it’s good for society to see crying as a normal activity. We have no objection when a baby cries. Children and adults need to cry too.

What about children and teens?

Children and teens don’t grieve like adults. They may appear to be fine when they’re not. They have the ability to suppress grief which is necessary, natural, and healthy. But they still grieve. When a child or teen loses a parent or sibling or another close person, it stays with them for the rest of their life. Adults often think a child will grow out of their grief eventually, but this is not a reasonable expectation. The grief will become less painful, and it will change, but it will not go away.

When I was ten, my aunt died by suicide. I saw how this upset my parents, though they were careful not to cry in front of me. The quality of their voices and their words let me know they were distressed, but I was not supposed to be. They didn’t cry or say, “we’re sad,” which would have shown me it was okay to be sad. The message was this: When people die we try not to feel sad and we expect you to do the same.

As parents, our impulse is to protect children. We try not to upset them. But I am a strong believer in grieving openly with children. I believe in being “grief-positive.” This shows kids it’s safe to be sad and allows them to express it without fear, shame, or embarrassment. Kids may find it frightening or uncomfortable to see adults cry, so it’s important to read their cues. But managing our feelings in front of kids is better than trying to hide the fact that we are emotional.

When I was fourteen my mother died. My father thought we should spend a month grieving by going away together. This was a good idea except that teenagers often don’t feel comfortable showing their emotions, which is normal for them. I appreciate that my father made space for our grief. But at the time, it was too much for me. I remember crying alone in my room, not wanting to be around my father or siblings. The acute loss of our mother was overwhelming and none of us knew how to talk about our feelings. I also got the message that a month of grieving should be enough.

Two years later I became anorexic and was engaged in a lot of risky behavior. Even though I had a loving and supportive family, we didn’t talk about our grief. I struggled with undiagnosed depression and anxiety, convinced there must be something wrong with me. I wanted someone to notice the pain I was in and yet I felt ashamed about not feeling whole. I wish I’d known then that depression, anxiety, and radical changes in behavior are typical for grieving teens. I believe everyone in my family would have benefited from more support and acknowledgment of our grief.

 

Do people really need help with grief?

Grief is a normal process, but it helps to understand and talk about it. Critics point to studies they say show no benefit to expressing “negative” emotions, and that people are naturally resilient when left to their own devices. I don’t believe in categorizing some emotions as negative and others as positive. In my personal experience and many years of working with others, I have found talking and listening to be the best therapy for grief. People who express their grief feel better. Yes, you can manage your feelings by largely ignoring them. For some, this may work well. But for most people, over time, depression, anxiety, or other mental and physical ailments will take their toll if grief is not recognized and expressed.

“Unresolved grief” is a fancy term for carrying sadness around. Most of us carry some sadness for the losses we’ve endured. Pent-up anger or a short temper may indicate grief that needs attention. New losses often bring up older ones that we need to revisit. Sometimes multiple losses result in compounded grief, meaning the grief is too much to manage. This can happen as the result of a terrible tragedy with multiple losses, as we get older and more people we love are dying, or when a young person loses a primary caregiver.

Personally, I don’t like the term “unresolved grief.” Grief is not something we complete, or “get past.” Grief is an ever-changing array of emotions that surface when they are called up for reasons we don’t always recognize. Sometimes grief demands our attention. Other times we can pay attention to it as we choose. It will always be a part of us.

 

What is Help with Grief?

When I support bereaved people, we talk and make space for grief. I listen carefully. Sometimes we do creative exercises if emotions are stuck. I give them resources and find discussing and designing some individual mourning practices is often helpful.

When people come to me, it is usually because they feel grief has taken over their lives. This is actually normal after a major loss. Some people need help understanding the multiple layers of grief. Others simply enjoy sharing it with someone who’s interested. In our culture, we have a lot of judgment about grieving and most of us need permission to do it. Plus, we don’t have many opportunities to express grief through mourning practices, the way we used to. I help people find things to do that feel right for them.

How has mourning changed in modern society?

Families used to care for the dying in their homes, often doing a home funeral and burial themselves. The family did this all together, including children and following established rituals based on religious beliefs.

My favorite religious practices around bereavement are those found in Judaism. I’m not Jewish so I admire these traditions from afar. But things like sitting shiva (for more information about shiva click here) for a week, and reciting kaddish for eleven months, aid in the grieving process by acknowledging the loss over time. Many religions and cultures have specific customs and rituals around death like washing the body and wearing black for months or years. All mourning rituals aid in the grieving process and are designed to keep mourners focused on their grief for a period of time.

In our culture, bodies are most often whisked away and cremated. We miss the chance to mentally process our greatest losses because doctors and funeral directors are accustomed to hiding what happens when we die. Our own mortality is frightening. We encourage people to “move on” as quickly as possible. We’re not very good at losing things or loved ones. We need to get better at letting go by mourning our losses and feeling our feelings along the way.

My personal approach to exploring my own grief has often been through writing. But therapy, yoga, meditation, running, swimming, and hiking have also helped me lift the heavy burden of grief through the years. However, writing isn’t helpful to someone who doesn’t enjoy it. Any form of creativity is great for expressing grief.

How do I get to the “growth” part?

The growth we experience in grief happens naturally, without effort. We are never the same after losing someone we love. When we fully embrace the process with self-compassion and patience, grief helps us become strong, empathetic, emotionally intelligent human beings.

I advise making room in your life to grieve. Allow time and space for feelings to be expressed. Write to the person who died. Talk to them too. Forge a connection with the positive aspects of loss through the love that remains. Notice all the ways life has changed, including the good and the bad. Learn to face your sadness rather than avoid it. Even better, make friends with it and find out what you can learn.

It strikes me today that the liturgy of Ash Wednesday teaches something that nearly everyone can agree on, whether you are part of a church or not, whether you believe today or you doubt, whether you are a Christian or an atheist or an agnostic, you know this truth deep in your bones: ‘Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return.’

Death is a part of life.

My prayer for you this lent is that you make time to celebrate that reality, and to grieve that reality, and that you will know you are not alone.
— Rachel Held Evans, from her post Lent for the Lamenting, March 6, 2019