When we lose someone we love, our world is upended. Our hearts shake. We’re stunned. Our lives changed in an instant. Dealing with all the changes loss and grief bring is hard work.
From the Grieving Heart:
I miss you. Badly.
I have one of your voicemails saved. I find myself listening to it over and over. I can’t believe you’re gone.
How did this happen? Why? Why you?
I keep asking the same questions. My mind runs around the same track, again and again. I feel like I’m going in circles.
And yet, I’m going nowhere. I’m barely moving at all. I go from thing to thing, person to person, without seeing anything. I’m a shadow, flitting in and out of what the rest of the world calls “normal life.”
What’s normal now? Nothing. Everything has changed. I don’t like this world anymore because you’re not in it.
Can you hear me? Where are you?
I look around. It seems like the same world, but it’s not. Far from it.
I’m a ball of emotion. Sad. Angry. Frustrated. Confused. Sometimes it’s hard to tell one emotion from another. I feel hijacked, like I’ve been kidnapped and taken to some alternate reality.
Surreal. That’s the word I was looking for.
Things are different now
Someone we love is missing. Life is different. We’re different. The change involved can be staggering. Giving ourselves permission to grieve can be difficult. Here are 5 quick truths that can help.
Truth #1: Loss can thrust us into survival mode, and that’s okay.
Our hearts are broken. We’ve taken a massive hit, and our minds are in survival mode. The unbelievable has happened. The unthinkable has taken place. No wonder we’re spinning.
It’s like we’ve been hit by a bus. We might be in the Grief ICU for quite a while, and that’s okay.
Truth #2: Even though they’re gone, we look for them, and that’s okay.
Our souls grapple to understand this new reality of a world without someone we love. We will always deny what we are not prepared to accept, and we’re certainly not ready to accept life without them yet. Even though they’re gone, their place in our hearts remains secure. We look for them. We listen for their voice. We try to keep them close any way we can. Pictures. Videos. Texts. Voicemails. Letters. Our search is part of love in action.
We look for them. We long for them. And that’s okay.
Truth #3: Life can seem weird or surreal, and that’s okay.
Each morning we expect to wake in the same world as yesterday. After a loss, this illusion is shattered. We live in a different place now, one without our loved one. Everything seems off, strange, weird. Life is surreal. And that’s okay.
Truth #4: Grief emotions are challenging, and that’s okay.
Navigating all these emotions and changes can seem about as doable as a solo swim of the Pacific. This is no longer the same world. Not for us. We did not ask for or want this change. Loss invaded, and then grief moved in.
Sadness, anger, confusion, frustration, anxiety, fear, and depression become persistent visitors forcefully tap dancing on our hearts. Managing their intensity and expressing them in healthy ways is an ongoing challenge. And that’s okay.
Truth #5: We often ask the same questions, over and over, and that’s okay.
Yes, things are surreal. No, nothing is quite as it was. Our loved ones mattered. Their departure is shaking our universe. Questions surge forth from deep within us.
How can this be? Why them? Why that way? Why now? Why us? Why?
Our minds will spin. Emotions will hijack us. Our hearts will ask repetitive questions. Our souls will search for answers. We are feeling our loved ones’ absence. And that’s okay.
We’re not crazy. We’re grieving.
Knowing that it’s okay to struggle, to hurt, and to grieve can make a huge difference. This is part of being kind to ourselves and patient with ourselves. We’re not crazy. Our hearts have been broken.
We hang on, breathe deeply, and grieve as best we can.
Affirmation:
Life is surreal. I’m trying to make sense of things. This will take time. And that’s okay.
Adapted from the newly released Comfort for Grieving Hearts: Hope and Encouragement for Times of Loss. You can download a free excerpt today.
Hello Gary & others touched by grief
I lost my best friend in 2006, shortly afterwards my Dad was diagnosed with cancer and passed away 4 months after my friend. My Dad & I were v close. My mother fell apart & ended up in a psychiatric ward, times were tough but my husband & son were supportive. I trained to become a counsellor through this & then my husband had a cardiac arrest which I witnessed and he lay in a coma for a week. The machines were turned off & my son & I were left alone with my mother in law & brother in law. Through all of this I kept on & although I grieved I didn’t spend time processing & realising the tragedy of the losses. My mother then passed away and it took a year to fully comprehend this loss on top of the others.
It’s only now that I’m experienced the anxiety, the fear that I may fall apart, the fear of death itself as I feel I need to be there for my son & my clients.
The anxiety comes in the morning like a silent dread and passes away as the day unfolds
It was so timely to stumble on your site & read about other people’s experiences of loss, I can’t conceive how it must feel to lose a child & my heart truly goes out to you all.
Anxiety is so hard to explain to others & I feel that even in this Age of Enlightenment that people cannot truly walk in your shoes, death is a frightening subject and I rarely express what I feel. Sometimes I feel that people expect me to be ‘over it’, especially when I appear to be getting on with my life.
Although it seems a simple thing, as you say, breathing slowly and deeply can really alleviate a panic arrack.
Doing the things that give you pleasure & making sure that you’re with people that make you comfortable. Allowing yourself to just follow what your body tells you & be compassionate to yourself.
Although my life will never be the same I have met some wonderful people along the way.
Thank you
Hi Caroline. Thank you for sharing with us. Goodness. Numberous losses, huge ones. I’m so sorry. Yes, anxiety is so common in grief. And no wonder. Our world have been shaken, and nothing is the same. Almost anything can trigger grief and another anxiety or panic attack. I’m glad you’re taking your grief seriously and grieving in healthy ways. Healing is tough. It helps me to say, “It’s not me, it’s anxiety” when the anxiousness hits. The anxiety is not us – it’s something we’re working through and we grieve. And yes, we meet wonderful people along this grief road. I’m so glad we’re in this together. Blessings to you…
It has been over two years since my husband passed away suddenly. Al of the comments about how a person feels is how I feel. My grief has not gotten less. My heart is broken in pieces and each day I just get through it. I am encouraged by your words and this newsletter. I have your books which are helpful also. But the pain is still so painful that some days I think I cannot get through them. My hope is in The Lord’s promise that this we are on a journey to heaven and when I get there I will see Jesus and my husband and daughter and all of my loved ones. But it in the meantime I feel so lost and without purpose.
Hi Gayleen. Thanks for sharing. Yes, we can feel lost, listless, purposeless. We can feel like we’ve lost ourselves somehow. The Lord loves you so much. He is in this with, feeling what you feel, and going through the grief with you. I know you know this. Lean hard into him. So much of this life is about longing for what is yet to come. Blessings to you, Gayleen…
LIFE 18 MONTHS LATER IS STILL SURREAL BUT NOW I CAN SEE THAT IT IS AND IS PART OF MOVING ON WHEN I FEEL MORE ABLE AND THAT IS BEGINNING TO BE SO.
Hi Winifred. Thanks so much for sharing. And I’m so glad. Sounds like you’re adjusting, healing, and that the grief is changing as you work through it and process it. Way to go! I’m proud of you! Blessings to you…
Gary,
Thank you so much for the 5 quick truths for managing heavy loss. The words are true grief is heavy. It is a heavy load to carry. I find that I cannot speed up my grieving process no matter how hard I try. I think I am where I am suppose to be right now. I still feel the bad so bad. My husband suddenly passed away November 28, 2014, the day right after Thanksgiving. I will never ever be the same person. I purchased your book “Comfort for Grieving Hearts,” it is very good. An added plus are the pages for Reflection And/or Journaling. The holidays are even tougher, the 4th of July coming up is very difficult. Thank you for your helpful newsletters and your encouraging words.
Hi Janet. Thank you for sharing this. You are so right. Grief is not something we can control or “speed up” or “tackle” in a way to get it to do what we want it to do. It defies our every attempt to control it. But thankfully we can manage it, simply by feeling what’s happening, being aware of our own hearts, staying connected to some safe people, and processing what we can. I’m glad you found Comfort for Grieving Hearts helpful. And thank you for your encouragement. I hope tomorrow, July 4, goes well. Breathe deeply. Take it as it comes. Hold things loosely. You will do well.
It’s been 7 years since I lost my 21 year old son in Afghanistan. Still struggling!! In so much pain. Crying as I send this note. Nothing helps!
Hi Donna. I’m so, so sorry about your son. How devastating. No wonder you’re struggling. Grief can be so intense. Donna, please feel free to email me any time. There’s help out there. Don’t do this alone. Please. Praying for you now…
Thank you, Gary! I am comforted by your words & God’s Grace.
Hi Sharon. Great to hear from you! Yes, indeed, God’s grace. He is the best grief companion imaginable. He knows all about it.