We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you a guest contributor’s perspective on coping with grief and loss. Chel Bell Guild has come to terms with the rollercoaster that is grief, and has tips for anyone who’s suddenly found themselves on it. Below is her take on making it through and making it meaningful for her.
Grief is the only emotion I can think of that has a million different interpretations. If I tell you I’m angry, sad, or happy, you know with every fiber of your being what that feels like. Grief, however, can’t really be understood. When we realize someone is grieving, we automatically know that this person suffered a loss of some kind, that the rug has been pulled out from under them, and that it’s a sad state to be in. Beyond that, grief is the Bermuda Triangle of emotions: it’s a mysterious place and people can get lost there forever.
When you’ve experienced it yourself, you get a little bit closer to understanding, but even then there are differences from one situation to the next. There is the kind of grief that feels like weights around your ankles; the kind that feels like digestive issues and headaches; the kind that feels like never-ending crying spells; the kind that avoids; the kind that is hostile; the kind that is numb; and there’s even the kind that feels like mania. And- DING DING DING- some big winners get to experience it all in one go!
It’s not what I ever wanted to be known for, but I’ve sort of become the poster child for grief. Aside from death, I’ve also seen my fair share of destruction, transition, and dysfunction. By the time my mom died in 2018, I thought I had been through grief bootcamp and would be able to “handle it,” whatever that means. I’m here to tell the tale so I guess I handled it, but to be clear, grief never goes away. You just get better at managing the symptoms and I don’t say this to scare you.
When I was in the thick of it, I didn’t want anyone to sugar-coat it for me, so that’s why I’m giving it to you straight. In fact, on a particularly hard day, I asked one of my best friends, “When is this supposed to feel better? It feels like no amount of kittens is going to make me happy.” (As crazy cat ladies, we had a habit of sending kitten gifs back and forth to each other during stressful times.) She answered, “You actually never feel better. You just feel awful less.” And then she died in a car accident. I CANNOT MAKE THIS SHIT UP.
She would absolutely appreciate being the punch line, in case you think I’m being irreverent, and I hope I can be yours when my number is up. For those of you taking notes, humor will also help greatly in getting through this life.
With every blow delivered, I’ve been pretty transparent with my readers because I want to help anyone who might be weathering emotional storms I’ve already survived. As a result, I hope they’ve been able to see that grief has many different faces. When I lost my 85-year-old grandmother, for example, I wasn’t grieving the life I thought I’d have like I did after my divorce. And when I lost my 65-year-old mother I had a full-on existential crisis that I’m not convinced is completely over. My point is that even when you’ve felt the weight of grief, you might be in for an entirely different rodeo the next time around.
The last time I was knocked on my ass, I thought I had done enough to prepare. Because my mother had a two-year battle with cancer, I had time to process my anticipatory grief (which is a whole ‘nother category) with a therapist and a life coach. But losing your mother will trigger a tsunami that you really cannot prepare for. You might experience it now or 20 years from now, but it will hit you. Like many people are, I was distracted after her death and didn’t feel the wave wash over me until almost a year later. That’s when my “recovery” really kicked into high gear. The advice I’ll give you next should start to ease the pain, but know that what works for one person doesn’t necessarily work for everyone. Here’s what I did to cope:
I went to therapy. Grief consumed me. I felt out of control and wasn’t thinking clearly, but even if your case isn’t as intense, I can’t think of a good reason not to seek the help of an unbiased and compassionate professional. This person will provide you a safe, non-judgmental space for an hour a week, and tools to go on living after you suffer a loss. Your friends and family cannot do that.
I caved and joined a support group. Man, I fought this one. A bunch of sad people sitting in a circle talking about their dead loved ones? No, thank you! How was that supposed to make me feel better? But I found that the only people on face of this earth who had a clue about what I was feeling were people in my position. (Surprisingly, I found a lot of these kindred souls on social media.) Everyone else was just going about their days as if we all aren’t going to drop dead at an unknown moment in the future! I felt like Chicken Little! I found a group that was actually a 14-week class aimed at helping people work through their emotions and make sense of the senseless. Week by week, I made progress.
I embraced mortality. Look, I don’t want to be the grim reaper, but running from death only makes it worse. This doesn’t mean you have to become obsessed, but death is a pretty damn important part of life. We can’t pretend it isn’t going to happen, and how differently would you live (and celebrate) your life if you deeply understood death?! Life is too short for denial. Let the choir say amen! I found Alua Arthur of Going with Grace to be a fabulous teacher.
I immersed myself in joy. While listening to TED talks on grief, like this inspiring talk by Nora McInery, I stumbled upon Ingrid Fettel Lee’s talk on joy. This topic had been whispering to me for a while, but started screaming in my face after my mother’s death. I resolved to intentionally seek out joy in my daily life. (Learn more about the difference between happiness and joy, and why it matters here.) Sometimes this looked like spending more time in nature, adding more color to my wardrobe and making more time for play. Other times it looked like saying no more often, cutting toxic people out of my life, and raising my rates.
I wrote about it. I bared my soul in a series of essays. It’s cathartic to process grief through art, and doing so can actually change your brain chemistry. (Music therapist Stephanie Epstein explains it here.) And it turns out, I was able to help others while helping myself.
If you’re grieving, take it easy on yourself. Now is the time for comfort and self-care. While grief never really ends, it will become easier to navigate. All you have to do is make it through the day, but if you’re worried that might not be possible, call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255.
Chel is a creative nonfiction writer, web series creator, and community supporter. You can read more of her writing here.
Trisha says
This is similar to something I had written a couple of weeks ago. There is absolutely no right or wrong way to grieve, neither there is a linear path towards healing. One day we might feel as though we have overcome it, but the very next day we are on our knees.
This is a beautiful piece, very insightful. 🙂 thanks for sharing
Chel says
Thank you so much! I’d love to read your piece. Email me at chelbellguild@gmail.com
Patris says
Chel , I love you and believe it or not I miss you. I lost my brother a few weeks ago. My sister brother and his two girls and I are somewhat estranged. So my reaction is pure anger and the desire to really piss people off. I have girlfriends around the country. Those here are not girlfriends I would have necessarily selected. Some friends feel family separation is strange. And I am sure some blame me. So I remain angry. Damn. Thank you for this. It’s of when parents leave how siblings either come together or fall apart. Your friend Patris. And shanedarby
Chel says
I miss you too and am so sorry to hear this! Use your anger for something constructive so that it doesn’t consume you from the inside out. You are allowed to be angry and you don’t need anyone’s permission to stick to your boundaries. Maybe in the future there can be reconciliation or maybe you will personally get to a place of forgiveness without ever having a relationship with them again. Both are OK!