It’s a funny thing, grief. It’s something that we all experience yet there’s a discomfort and avoidance in acknowledging it. For a long time, I felt like the odd one out and as though my grief didn’t fit in with the norms of what society teaches us grief should look like. I believed (and was never taught otherwise) that grief was cookie-cutter, five-stages-and-then-you-move-on kind of response and when it didn’t quite turn out as that, I believed it was me; that I was broken or weird or did something wrong. Last week marked 13 years since I last saw my Mum, Greta Preisler-Weller and I’ve been reflecting on the things I wish I knew about grief, as a teenager who was simply trying to understand her new landscape.
Grief doesn’t always look like it does in the movies.
There’s an expectation that if someone is grieving, they are wailing on their hands and knees, wearing all black and are inconsolable. In truth, whilst some people express their grief in this way, a lot of people don’t. Sometimes it’s shock. Sometimes it’s our brains way of protecting us. For children, it’s a survival mechanism that allows us time to process what has happened without overwhelming us. I didn’t cry about my Mums death until my birthday party – which was two weeks later (you might even question how or why I had a birthday party so soon after my Mum died but I was a teenager and it was my ‘sweet sixteen’. I already felt different to my peers, this was a way of fitting in). We all process and express our emotions in different ways and this means that we will all respond to our grief differently, too. The thing I wish I knew about grief is that it doesn’t have to look a certain way for it to be valid.
There will be days that you don’t think of them at all. There will also be days where all you can think of, is them.
In the earlier moments following a loss, it can be hard to imagine a time where you dont think of them. However, as time passes, you’ll shock yourself as minutes, days and even weeks pass by where you haven’t consciously thought about your person and my goodness, the guilt can be real. I remember the first time I forgot to memorialise my Mum on Mothers Day and I spent the next 24hours beating myself up because I felt as though I dishonoured my mum by not acknowledging her. The thing I wish I knew about grief is that not thinking of them doesn’t mean the love isn’t present.
Not everyone will have capacity to hold space for your grief
As a 15 year old who lost their Mum, you can probably imagine that not many, if any, of my friends knew how to respond to a person who was grieving. In earlier years, this hurt and I felt a secondary loss that was not expected. In more recent years, I’ve found peace and understanding in a quote I once read “Friends for a reason, friends for a season and friends for life”. What I wish I knew about grief is that not everyone understands, nor has capacity, for your grief. It doesn’t always bring friends or family together – sometimes it can change them and even at times, break them. But the people who are there through it all, well… there’s a new depth to your relationship that can never be broken.
Grief isn’t only an emotional response
Feeling constantly tired but unable to sleep? Feeling either nauseous or ravenous, with no in between? Feeling like your memory is slowly fading? Feel as though your immune system has taken a hit? That’ll be the grief. Grief not only changes the neuropathways in your brain, which may account for some of the brain fog a.k.a grief brain that you’re experiencing; but it also lowers your immune system and places you into fight or flight mode. This means you’re living in a stress response and your body is putting all it’s energy into your basic functions, forgetting about the rest. What I wish I knew about grief is that it’s a whole body and mind experience and whilst google diagnostics might convince you that you have a rare incurable disease, it’s most likely a result of your grief. *
Your grief doesn’t define you
Your loss will play a big role in who you become, the choices you make and the values you align with. It will intertwine and blend into the many aspects of who you are, but it is not all of you. You continue to be a person outside of your loss and your grief and I wish that I knew I didn’t need to let grief define me, for it to be a part of who I am.
Grief is a normal, natural response to significant loss
I think this pretty much sums up the last thing I wish I knew about grief. It’s normal. It’s natural. You’re not broken. Your grief is valid and real. You’ve experienced unimaginable heartache and its going to shift your world – how could it not? And whilst it feels so lonely, you are not alone.
