The Enduring Nature of Grief

Sukerkin

Have the courage to speak softly
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For those who know me here, I wonder if what I have gone through this past year has changed how I 'sound' within the forums? I try to be 'myself' but I am finding that that 'self' is being revealed to be a different man than the one I was. Indeed, I feel that I am sometimes a different man from day to day, depending on how savagely my grief is rending at me on that day.

I have been more than a little concerned that the stress and pain had robbed me of my sanity and that I was on a slope that would lead me to a place of mental fracture where I most assuredly did not want to go. Talking with people in the same situation as myself (for those who do not know and who may be wondering what I am wittering on about, I lost my wife to cancer a few months ago) has helped a great deal, as indeed, has the support and friendship I have received in full measure from people here at MT. But is still a nightmare road I am on, taking step after unwilling step into a future bereft of meaning or light. And those steps are not getting any easier, in fact they are getting harder and each minute of each hour is a battle to keep my darling in my mind and heart whilst not being utterly crippled by the pain of it.

Today, via one of my fellow bereaved, I came across this short but very enlightening piece by a professional counsellor and I thought I would repost it here to both illuminate some dark corners, for those that know me, and to perhaps shed some more light in general on the state of life that is called 'grief'. If it proves of help to someone who either has to face losing their wife or husband (or knows someone who does) then it will have been worth while fighting the boards formatting demons to make it easier to read :).

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"Grief Intelligence: A Primer" by Ashley Davis Bush

For the past 25 years, I have worked with thousands of grievers. I have sat with widows and widowers, the young and the old. I have offered tissues to bereaved parents in their inconsolable grief. I have normalized, educated, listened to and championed those grievers who, through tremendous pain, still engaged with life. In the decades since my book Transcending Loss was published, the grieving process has not changed. As I interact with grievers from around the world, I am reminded of the universality of grief. And though each person has their own journey, still they share many common experiences.

Yet, still, I see and hear so much misinformation and confusion around grief. Principally, this comes from the widely-held myths that grief should be easy, that grief should be short, that grief has closure, that people should get on with their lives unchanged and that ongoing connection with the deceased is somehow pathological.

So, in trying to set the record straight, I'm offering seven principles in this primer on grief intelligence. Most people don't learn these lessons until life thrusts them onto the roller coaster of major loss. However, if we can get the word out, then perhaps a new generation of individuals will feel more supported and understood when it is their time to grieve.

1. Grief is a normal reaction -- Grief is the natural emotional and physical response to the death of a loved one. Although our society desperately wants to avoid the messiness of deep sorrow, there is no way out except through the pain. Typical numbing techniques such as medications, alcohol and food are only temporary distractions to dull the pain. Letting oneself grieve by going directly into the pain -- in manageable doses over a long period of time -- is healing. Avoiding the pain simply forces it to go deep into the heart where it subtly affects emotional and physical health.

2. Grief is hard work -- Grief isn't easy and it isn't pretty. It involves tears, sleepless nights, pain, sorrow and a heartache that knocks you to your knees. It can be hard to concentrate, hard to think clearly, hard to read and easy to forget all the details of life that everyone else seems to remember. Grievers frequently feel that they're going crazy and they sometimes wish to die. This doesn't mean that they're actively suicidal, it just means that they're grieving.

3. Grief doesn't offer closure -- Closure is an idea that we like because we want to tie up our emotional messes with a bow and put them in the back of a closet. But grief refuses to play this game. Grief tends towards healing not closure. The funeral can be healing, visiting a gravesite can be healing, performing rituals, writing in journals and making pilgrimages can be personally meaningful and healing. But they will not bring closure. Closure is relevant to business deals but not to the human heart.

4. Grief is lifelong -- Although we all want quick fixes and short-term solutions, grief won't accommodate us. Many people want grief to be over in a few weeks or a few months and certainly within a year. And yet, many grievers know that the second year is actually harder than the first. Why Because the shock has worn off and the reality of the pain has truly sunk in. I let grievers know that the impact of grief is lifelong just as the influence of love is also lifelong. No matter how many years go by, there will be occasional days when grief bursts through with a certain rawness. There will be days, even decades later, when sadness crosses over like a storm cloud. And likely, every day going forward will involve some memory, some connection to missing the beloved.

5. Grievers need to stay connected to the deceased -- While some might find it odd or uncomfortable to keep talking about a loved one after they have passed, or find it disconcerting to see photographs of those who have died, it is healthy to keep the connection alive. My heart goes out to a generation or more of grievers who were told to cut their ties to their deceased loved ones, to move on, almost as if they had never existed. Such unwitting cruelty! It is important to honor the birthdays and departure days of deceased loved ones. Their physical presence may be gone, but they remain in relationship to the griever in a new way beyond form, a way based in spirit and love.

6. Grievers are changed forever -- Those who expect grievers to eventually get back to their old selves, will be quite disappointed. Grief, like all major life experiences, changes a person irrevocably. People don't remain unchanged after getting an education, getting married, having a baby, getting divorced or changing careers. Grief, too, adds to the compost mixture of life, creating rich and fertile soil. It teaches about living and dying, about pain and love and about impermanence. While some people are changed by grief in a way that makes them bitter and shut down, it is also possible to use grief as a springboard for compassion, wisdom, and open-heartedness.

7. Grievers can choose transcendence -- Transcendence has to do with gaining perspective, seeing in a new way and holding pain in a larger context. Seeing one's grief from a larger perspective allows it to be bearable and gives it meaning. For one, transcendence might mean reaching out to those who suffer. For another, it might mean giving to a cause that will benefit others. Grievers who choose transcendence recognize that they are not alone, that they share a common human condition, and that they are amongst so many who have experienced love and loss. They use their pain in a way that touches others. The pain is still there, of course, but it is transformed.
So I invite you to reflect on these grief principles, how they might be true for you and how they might be true for someone you know and love. Share and share again so that we might spread grief intelligence far and wide. Perhaps we can effect a change so widespread that grievers will know what to expect. Hopefully, we all can be comforted, in small ways, by that knowledge.

Ashley Davis Bush, LCSW
 
Sukerkin,

I know this isn't easy, but give yourself time...the things you feel will become something less painful...you just have to get through it...which may seem incomprehensible now...but again, with time...
 
Thank you for sharing, and yes, I've learned those lessons and agree.

Grief is normal, grinds you into the dirt, and lasts forever. The more and deeper you loved, the longer and harder the process. You're loved ones will always be with you...at times in dreams and waking is pain enough to wish for death. The ghosts we live with, and the shroud we see covering others who have suffered.

This I'm sure of: great insight, kensho, awakening, spirituality...whatever you want to call it...can come from great sorrow. Love brings us pain...and surprisingly pain brings us compassion for others...which in turn opens us up for spiritual awakening/transformation.
 
There's little I can say to comfort you. Grief is an individual journey, and the most that any of can do is offer some companionship, akin to a radio on a long drive. For what it's worth, yes, your posts have changed. My posts have, too, as we all grow, and change. I can't say how much I've been impressed by the grace you've shown in dealing with your grief.
 
Mark I've been away from MT, home and friends for a while. While I was away, 4 months ago, a very good friend of mine lost her daughter in a very public car accident. It has been heartbreaking to see her go through what she is going through. I see her as often as I can, comfort her however I can, but she is not who she was. She has changed in many ways, some ways have been very positive, doing things she would never have done before and I am glad she is taking those steps in her life. She has made plans well into the future, trips and activities to keep herself busy and engage herself in new experiences. One foot in front of the other, and just keep going. Sadly I have no magical words to make my friend or you feel "better", but I am thinking of you and wishing you the best.
 
Mark,
Thank you for the insight of that piece. I think it is very helpful. For what it's worth; the strength you have shown in reaching out to your extended online family is one of the most healthy responses I can imagine as you pass through the pain of loosing your wife. As a caveat; a very good psychiatrist friend advised me when I was dealing with a grieving patient. Much of what he said echoed what you posted. From the clinical side however, he drew a clear distinction between grief as a lifelong process, and grief related depression. His advice was that clinical depression related to grief should pass within 6 mo. If it lasts longer, it should be treated. Long standing depression, as differentiated from sadness, can have permanent effect on brain chemistry and treatment can help prevent this permanent change. For anyone experiencing clinical depression, I would encourage that they seek medical care and treatment if indicated. There are some very good depression related self assessment questionnaires available on line. http://whatsmym3.com/Default.aspx, http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/depression/MH00103_D If these tests lead one to believe that there is a possibility of clinical depression, it is imperative that one seeks medical evaluation. Clinical depression has a 10% mortality from suicide. Depression is also treatable and I can attest to the fact that symptom relief with treatment is very real and beneficial. This does not make one's problems disappear, or negate the grieving process. It does allow for a more appropriate range of emotions and mood to reestablish and for one's perceptions of self, life and reality to be less distorted. I have experienced the effects of depression as a physician, a loved one and as a patient and I am absolutely certain that this medical condition needs treatment when it occurs. I apologize Mark, if I have somewhat coopted your thread here, but I have seen too many people suffer out of embarrassment, ignorance or fear when they could have been doing much better under the care of a physician.
 
Ah - thank you for sharing. Because I'm new, you don't know my interaction style, so my apologies if my words are clumsy - the intent is to be supportive, not confrontational or contrary or offensive.

Wow - that sucks a lot (understatement of the year?) and I really hope you have people in your life who help support you. I can understand why you would feel life was incomplete now, but the blanket statement that life is meaningless without someone - I really hope you come to a point where you don't feel that way. I would hope that your significant other wouldn't want you to feel life were meaningless without her. What I mean to say is: I hope your wound heals (gets easier to deal with?) - that loss is deep and hard.

I recently read the book Flowing with the Go by Elena Stowell, in which she used BJJ to help her deal with the loss of her daughter. It was a powerful but difficult read. I wish you well.
 
As someone who has "known" Sukerkin for several years, I can say that he doesn't necessarily mean that you (or me, for that matter) lives an incomplete life because we are single.

A long time ago when I got divorced, a friend who offered the most support to me (whether he realized it or not I am not sure) was a college friend of mine who had lost his wife. He truly understood the loss that I was feeling.

There are so many things that get impacted. Your health, your identity, your lifestyle, your financial status...since I got divorced around the time that 9/11 happened my career was negatively impacted at the same time. Just about everything in my life was going to hell in a handbasket.

Now though...I can honestly say my life is happier, better, richer, and more fulfilling now than it has ever has been, and that is without someone by my side. :)
 
Thanks for the note. For the past 6 years I have lived in non-English speaking countries (Ukraine and Korea) and the prevailing thought is "what's your problem" if you're my age and not married. I'm glad that's not the case here.
 
Altho' I think it was intended to help the young deal with the loss of parents, this little reportage vignette may well have embedded within it the core of a method by which people like myself can restructure their world view to make grief something survivable:

One day I saw a notice for a talk on helping children through bereavement by Barbara Monroe, the Chief Executive of St Christopher's Hospice in London.

When I arrived, what I saw resembled a physics lesson. On the table before her was a very large glass jar. Beside were three balls: one large, one medium-sized, one small.

Without a word, she began to stuff the large ball into the jar. With a great deal of effort, she wedged it in. 
'There!' she said. 'That's how grieving feels at first. If grief is the ball and the jar is your world, you can see how the grief fills everything. There is no air to breathe, no space to move around. Every thought, every action reminds you of your loss.'

Then she pulled the large ball out of the jar and put in the medium-sized ball. She held it up again, tipping it so the ball rolled around a bit. 'Maybe you think that's how it will feel after a time - say, after the first year. Grieving will no longer fill every bit of space in your life.'

Then she rolled the ball out and plopped in the small ball. 'Now, say, by the second or third year, that's how grieving is supposed to feel. Like the ball, it has shrunk. So now you can think of grief as taking up a very small part of your world - it could almost be ignored if you wish to ignore it.'

For a moment, considering my own crammed jar, I thought of leaving.

'That's what everyone thinks grieving is like,' the voice continued. 'And it's all rubbish.'

I settled back into my seat. Two other glass jars were produced from under the table: one larger, one very large. 
'Now,' she said, imperiously. 'Regard.'

Silently, she took the largest ball and squeezed it slowly into the least of the three jars. It would barely fit. Then she pulled the ball out and placed it in the next larger jar. There was room for it to roll around. Finally, she took it out and dropped it into the largest glass jar. 'There,' she said, in triumph. 'That's what grieving is really like. If your grieving is the ball, like the ball here it doesn't get any bigger or any smaller. It is always the same. But the jar is bigger. If your world is this glass jar, your task is to make your world bigger.' 
'You see,' she continued, 'no-one wants their grief to shrink. It is all they have left of the person who died. But if your world gets larger, then you can keep your grief as it is, but work around it.'

Then she turned to us. 'Older people coping with grief often try to keep their world the same. It is a mistake. If I have one thing to say to all of you it is this: make your world larger. Then there will be room in it for your grieving, but your grieving will not take up all the room. This way you can find space to make a new life for yourselves.
 
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