Rachel John’s shared experience
1. The grief and waves analogy is spot on for me. At first it’s like a vast ocean in a fucking big storm and the waves were crashing down every few seconds, it’s a struggle to keep your head above water, to remember to breathe. All you can do is cling on to the floats that people chuck in and hold on. At some point down the line, the waves get smaller and further apart. No matter how long it's been; months, a year or 30 years, there are still days and weeks where the storm gets worse and those waves feel unmanageable again. Grief isn't simple or linear and it certainly doesn't even begin to end after the funeral which is when the cards and thoughtful messages fade away.
2. Grief is love with nowhere to go. We grieve because we have loved and lost. Sometimes we don't want to be fine. Crying is a release. Sure we want to be able to feel happy and get enjoyment from things again. We want to have moments of peace. But we don't ever want to stop remembering or grieving, because that is the only place for all our love to go, and we want to keep loving and missing our person who died forever.
3. Life goes on. It's so strange to look around at everyone getting on with life, strangers walking down the road, going about their business. It feels as though the whole world should have stopped as the bereaved world has. Life out there goes on. That's a difficult thing to comprehend. But one day, you will pop to the shop or have a drink with a friend and there won't be a heaviness in your chest. One day you will probably spend the day like one of those strangers, talking about mundane things, laughing and joking and not feeling caged by grief. And that's ok. It's ok to feel ok, for however long you feel ok.
4. Distract enough and don't distract too much. We need to go through the motions and sit with the most unbearable pain we can imagine. But it's also very necessary to distract ourselves at times. Forcing ourselves not to feel the intense barrage of horrible feelings does not deal with them, they keep building and sooner or later we'll find ourselves with a heavy weight of panic and misery sitting on our chests; unsure how to untangle it. Learn to sit with the pain a bit but it's also ok to avoid it sometimes when it feels too much. I guess it's about getting a balance somehow, though I haven't learnt how.
5. The build up to the 'firsts' without them and anniversaries are generally worse than the event or day itself. You come to realise it hurts all the time anyway. It's ok to feel unable to function around these times. Things will feel more manageable again.
6. We live in a society which isn't very accepting of grief. We live in such a medicalised world that if you were assessed at 2 months post bereavement and showed common and impacting symptoms of grief still, you could be given a label of major depressive disorder. Grief is not depression. Grief has similar symptoms to depression. Grief can lead us into a depression. But mostly grief is just utter sadness, loss, love, anger, missing, sleepless nights. Overall, our unimaginable despair that our loved one has permanently left their life on this earth. It isn't something we can ever be cured of or get over. We need to learn to live with our grief, to find protection from the storms, and find ways to ride the waves without feeling like we are too weak to survive another. We need to re-learn how to enjoy things and take comfort in things. We need to feel connected and have purpose. We need to talk about grief. Because we all suffer grief in our lifetime. Every single person who has loved. Death happens to every single one of us.
7. Talking to others in similar situations helps: whether helplines, grief buddies, support meetings or facebook groups, all are invaluable. To find people saying things which you feel too muddled up and lost to put into words. To feel less alone. To realise we are not the only people to have such devastating losses is both heartbreaking and weirdly comforting. To find someone who just 'gets it.' That can help.
8. Know someone who's had a bereavement? Bring it up. Say their name. Don't leave the elephant in the room. The most offensive thing you can say is absolutely nothing. Losing someone is like a sudden and catastrophic earthquake, their world is shaken and foundations are ripped away. The world literally stops and peoples worlds are forever changed. Trust me, we think about our loved ones all the time anyway, by bringing it up you are not upsetting us, we probably couldn't get much more upset anyway. You're not reminding someone what happened, we don’t ever forget.
A simple 'I'm sorry to hear of your loss' is fine, if someone doesn't want to talk about it they can say thank you and move the conversation on. It is validating. It's normal and ok to not know what to say, but don’t let this be the reason to say nothing.
9. Let people know you are there. There is very little you can say to someone to provide comfort when they suffer a bereavement, it is a very dark situation, there is very rarely an 'at least' which could provide any kind of comfort. Be there. Say the person’s name. Share memories. Give practical help. If you can't think of anything else to say, talk about the weather. Dont talk about it too much cos no one gives that much of a shit about the weather.
10. Just because someone wears their grief well, doesn't mean it doesn’t hurt and they are ok. Check in with them about it from time to time.
Written by Rachel John.