On Grief

Life is full of disappointments. - some of these are very large - our trust is betrayed, our innocence is taken from us, our lives are forever altered. Some might seem small to an outsider but still wound us deeply, even if we do not admit that wound to ourselves. Each disappointment changes us, and our view of the world and ourselves is forced to take a detour that we never expected.

Like a mirror broken and glued back together, the cracks in our self-image remain visible, and the scars on our soul may be sutured, but remain tender forever after. What I am talking about is grief, even if we don’t call it that when dealing with some losses, that is in fact what it is. These moments of grief can overwhelm us, the waves of emotion may get too high, we may stop swimming and drown.

But, even if they do not, they change us, wash us on to the shore of an unknown country, a country of change. If you have ever looked at a list of the things that cause stress in people’s lives, the one thing that they have in common is change. - death, divorce, moving from place to place. We are being forced to leave behind the familiar and enter the unknown. We do that every day, even if we don’t realize it - each morning is full of new things, each sunrise lights a completely new experience.

But, because we treasure the familiar and fear the unknown, we try and hold on to the past, even when it was hurtful.. But the door to yesterday is locked behind us, and no amount of strength or desire will open it again to allow us to alter what has occurred. We are left with grief, and only each one of us individually can navigate the path through grief - the denial, the anger, the bargaining - out to the other side, the land called Acceptance. To do that, however, we also need the support of others, their encouragement, their understanding of our need to grieve until we are ready to move on.

Thinking about grief, I believe that most books on the subject are wrong. They talk of the stages of grief as though grief was a step ladder, go up each rung, one at a time, until you reach the top. But, at least in my experience, grief is more like a journey between two mountains down into a steep valley. The path is rough, there are places where you could trip and fall, places filled with darkness and shadows., time when the path ahead seems blocked and detours have to be made. But, there can also be moments of discovery, times when you find something hidden in the valley that no one from the mountain tops can see, a place of stillness and peace that helps you refresh yourself, so you can carry on toward the other side.

Every person’s grief is unique, intimate even. Even when the same circumstances happen to two different people, they will process it in totally unique ways. The way each person handles the grief will depend on their histories, their attitudes, the amount of support they receive, and even their body and brain chemistry. Having said that, there seems to be some temptations that are quite common when dealing with grief. One of those is denial. We become like little children, closing our eyes to the event to wish and pray to make it never so.

But grief will not be swept under a rug forever. Like a disease in the body untreated will continue to fester and get worse, so grief will grow as long as it is not faced. This temptation remains as long as the hurt does, it is always present, ready to swallow us if we allow it. Something I must do when I am grieving is force my eyes open, refuse to deny it, and instead to acknowledge it, because only then can I begin to treat it. This requires a certain amount of bravery, a willingness to being vulnerable.

There are several emotions that can be associated with grief. Of course, one would expect to feel sorrow, or sadness during the grieving process. The emotion that seem to surprise people is Anger. But it does make sense. A wounded animal is often more dangerous , even to those trying to help. When we have been hurt, there is a temptation to lash out and hurt others. Sometimes, we can use anger as fuel to help up move forward for a while, but it becomes an anchor, tying us to the event and keeping us fro being able to continue to climb.

Worse, our anger can cause us to hurt innocent people who love us, and only want us to get better. Far too often I have allowed anger to cloud my judgment, and have become enraged at petty events that were not worthy of such a response when examined by the cold light of day. I have felt like I was trapped, unable to escape the pain, a feeling of an injustice done to me that should be revenged, and the cry of “its just not fair!“ has escaped my lips.

The only way I know of to get rid of this weight is to cut the cord of anger, give up my “right” to seek justice for myself, and leave the hurt behind forever. Like denial, this is not something that only occurs once and then is over with. I have to continually do it over and over again, for as long as the hurt remains.

If we are fortunate enough to avoid or pull ourselves out of the trap of denial and leave behind the weight of anger, there are still some other pitfalls we can fall into and get stuck while on a journey of grief. One of these is Bargaining - we try and negotiate away our pain, trade our grief. Denial and bargaining are related, because we are still not acknowledging fully the events or circumstances. But, while denial is inward-looking, bargaining is usually outward looking.

So who do we bargain with? Well, for some of us at least, it involves a higher power, God. I have seen lifelong atheists and sceptics take to prayer like ducks to water when faced with grief. Sometimes, that prayer is even answered - the cancer scare turns out to be wrong, the relationship we thought destroyed or lost is restored. But, more often than not, the heavens remain silent on the subject of our grief and we are forced to carry the burden, heavy as it may be.

The good part about bargaining is that we have started to realize that the situation is not in our control, that we cannot change the event that caused our grief. But we are still looking for an easy way out, a way to get around the mountain instead of putting one foot in front of the other to climb it, however slow our progress upward might be. I am beginning to climb out of the valley of grief.

I am not at the top by any means, but at least I am climbing now, and am no longer satisfied with waiting for someone or something to just pull me up. I can now hear the voices of encouragement from others, so please, keep cheering me on.