What the girl who rarely cries learned about grieving
I am the girl who rarely cries. One of my personality profiles states that I can “come across as if feelings aren’t important.” It is true that I put more stock in logic and pragmatism, but I do still feel deeply. And grief is something that none of our personalities can avoid.
Below is a fresh perspective on grief. A poem to touch on the raw emotion. Tips for the non-emotional griever that the “feelers” will also be able to use. And tips for the well-meaning folks who unknowingly make the hurt worse…by piling it on when there is no room left.
Grief is universal. Unavoidable. I wrote this to make sense of what was churning in my mind. As a result, I hope that you find the following to be interesting and helpful.
When facing death, there can be a lot of raw, overwhelming emotion.
I lost my father and my pet Labrador retriever within the same year. My strong, athletic and independent father’s illness caused a heart-breaking decline and 13-months of ups and downs. My young, sweet-hearted, 100% blind 8-year old lab’s loss was sudden and tragic, dying in my arms on the cold ceramic tile floor of our kitchen.
There have been losses in my life, but nothing that hit my psyche quite like these.
I have never been much of a crier and tend to process new information quickly. When loss is sudden and tragic though, not even my pragmatism could ground me. I appreciated all of the condolences and extensions of sympathy extended to me and knew in my heart that people meant to be kind. But I also observed a tendency for someone to want to share their own loss when aiming to console me of mine. While the gestures were surely well-meaning, here is how it felt:
Your empathy is welcomed
– in spirit, and kind eyes, a gentle nod of your head –
but not in words
I have no room for your stories
no room for your feelings
no room for your grief
I am in it right now
so thick
Slowly boiling, stuck in the tea kettle, not realizing how intense it is until I hear myself screaming
I have no room for your words
Except for that simple phrase “I am sorry”
Give me the gentle nod
the kind eyes
and listen
Let me pour some of this grief out into your cup
Not for you to hold onto, just to help take it from me. To help keep me from boiling over.
I have no room for your words
Not now
at this moment
I can be that friend again
that stranger again
that human again
but not today.
When reflecting on what I needed at different moments, I came up with some guidance on how to reach out to someone in the throes of grief:
3 TIPS FOR CONSOLING
1. LISTEN
Ask them if they want to talk. Then listen. Only listen. Do not share your story at this time. Let them know they are HEARD. And loved.
2. ASK FOR NEEDS
It is too easy to say, “Let me know if you need anything.” Anyone who is proudly independent won’t even know how to ask for help. Ask more specific and powerful questions like: “is there anything right now that you are dreading having to do?”
“Is there a chore that you are currently avoiding?”
“What one thing could make you feel better if it magically got done?”
Then invite yourself over to help with that identified need.
3. PRAY
If you belong to a particular religion and they do not, this is NOT the time to evangelize. Make your thoughts and prayers about them, not the religion. You pray for their peace and comfort (or are sending positive vibes and healing energy). Hard stop.
When it comes to our own grief, the first (and most important) step is to give ourselves permission to be in that space. I knew that if I avoided it, it would come back with a vengeance, and I wanted to avoid making things worse for myself. Here is what I learned when going through my stages of grief:
3 TIPS FOR ALLOWING YOURSELF TO GRIEVE…
1. EAT A COOKIE
I called a medical friend who works in the E.R. and asked her for tips on dealing with loss, knowing what she faces on the job. She gave the best advice… “If you feel like eating a cookie, eat the darn the cookie!”
This is no time to beat yourself up about food choices; it is a waste of energy that you likely don’t have when in the throes of grief. Don’t waste the mental energy of fighting against cravings — instead, use them as conscious ways to show self-love. When you allow yourself to grieve, the cravings should eventually work themselves back out.
2. SHIELD YOURSELF
Make it known that you need to talk without receiving any feedback. Explain that you have emotions so strong and overwhelming that you need to release them into the air… sort them out as you talk…and don’t have the capacity to absorb someone else’s feelings right now. Communicate to your friend, loved one, or complete stranger on the street: you need to be heard, and just don’t have the space to hear them right now. This is ok. It is short-term.
3. SLEEP
When the grief fatigue hits, clear your schedule as much as possible to sleep as much as possible. Skip the shower in the morning to snooze more. Sneak in naps. Go to bed earlier. Grieving is exhausting. Sleep more so that you can grieve better; and have the energy and capacity to move through the stages and not get stuck.
If you’ve hung with me this far, thank you for reading. For me, writing is cathartic and is another healthy way to process my grief. Though now that I’m in the later stages, I have plenty of room to hear your stories! Are there any other tips you wish I had included in my list? Any other warnings to the well-meaning folks who may not know what they do? Let me hear your thoughts…
Catherine W Ham © 2020
