Learning To Live Again While Dealing With Grief

Where do I even begin with this one? I’ve been staring at my computer screen for what feels like eternity, trying to figure out how to put my feelings into words. I keep typing and back-spacing, typing and back-spacing. Nothing I write seems to properly convey how I actually feel inside. Nothing I write seems deep enough. It’s frustrating. I’d never want anyone to be in a position where they feel what I feel. But it would be helpful if people could understand…

But that’s the thing about grief isn’t it? It’s not necessarily supposed to be understood. It’s a feeling. It’s internal. And it’s unique to each individual that experiences it. So of course nothing I say is going to properly encapsulate everything that grief is. With this in mind, let’s see if I can even remotely describe what it’s like for me living each day and trying to move forward while being utterly consumed with grief.

The Back Story

For those of you who don’t know (which I’m sure isn’t many as I’ve talked pretty openly about everything), I lost my little sister and my dad in the span of only a year. I won’t go into too much detail here as that’s not the point of this post, but what you need to know is this: my youngest sister passed away one day after her 27th birthday. She had a very rare cancer and her journey was a tumultuous one as no doctor would take her symptoms seriously because she was so young and otherwise appeared very healthy. It wasn’t until she was already stage 4 that someone finally listened to her, and of course by then, it was too late. Four months after my sister died (saying that out loud still doesn’t feel real) my dad was diagnosed with cancer (also stage 4). A year after his diagnosis, he too was gone. From late 2019 until now (approaching the one year mark of my dad’s passing) my life has been nothing short of a rollercoaster. This is the first time in four years that I’ve finally had the time to actually let my guard down, stop trying to be strong, take in all that has happened, and allow myself to feel and process all the emotions I’ve had building up inside of me. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still had some amazing moments over these past few years, but the underlying theme has been one of confusion, despair, anger, guilt, heartache, emotional instability and trauma. And to be honest, I’ve struggled with how to deal with it all.

In the blink of an eye, my whole world has changed and I’m having to learn to adjust, rebuild and figure out what life looks like now that two of the most important people to me are gone. I recognize that everyone deals with traumatic situations throughout their lives and in no way am I comparing my story to anyone else’s. But that being said, my story has been a tough one, and I hope by sharing a bit of my experience that I can not only help those in my life understand me better but also bring some awareness to the subject of grief in general so if anyone reading this ever (unfortunately) finds themselves in a similar tragic situation, they will know that they are not alone, that what they are feeling is normal, and that as impossible as it feels in the moment, life does go on, and I promise it’s not all bad.

So What Has Grief Felt Like For Me?

As I said, grief manifests differently for everybody. It can even exist in different forms within the same individual. There are different stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance, and as you move through each stage you have to learn to grasp what you’re going through all over again. Psychologists originally said that we go through each stage in the order I outlined them above, but that was definitely not my experience. I have gone through, and continue to go through, each of these stages multiple times and in no particular order.

It’s hard learning how to exist in a world without someone you love in it. It’s twice as hard trying to figure out how to do that when you’ve lost two key family members back-to-back. Going through this has honestly flipped my whole world upside down. My identity has changed, my outlook on life has changed, my views towards many things have changed. I’m not the same person I was before, and that’s okay, but that also takes some adjusting.

Grief and Me

My grief journey has been a little all over the place. Some days I’m sad, depressed and stay in bed for the majority of the day. Other days I’m out living my best life and you’d have no idea what I’ve been through. Some days I accept death and am at peace with everything. Other days I feel guilty for being okay with things, guilty that I’m still here experiencing life while Marcie and Dad are not. Some days I cry. Other days I wonder why I can’t cry and feel bad for thinking that maybe I don’t need to. Some days I’m truly happy. Other days I feel nothing, I’m blank, like I’m just going through the motions but don’t have the ability to feel anything at all. There really is no rule book to grieving and it can get overwhelming feeling so many contrasting emotions all at once.

For me, the majority of my grieving has been very internal. To look at me, most people wouldn’t know the traumatic deaths I’ve encountered and those that do know are constantly telling me how incredibly strong I am. I feel like I need to be strong. I mean, life does go on and there’s no way I’m wasting this precious gift after those closest to me no longer get to experience it. If anything, I’m no longer just living for myself, I’m living for Marcie and Dad as well. But even though I work so hard to be strong, in some ways I feel like I’m just falling apart inside, like I’m having a bit of a personal identity crisis in my mind. Some days I feel like I’m not entirely sure who I am anymore. At times I’ve felt in a daze, like life is just passing me by. I’ve felt disoriented, confused and I get major brain fog that just makes life feel like a blur. I’ve felt loved and supported but I’ve also felt lonely, isolated and depressed. I’ve felt happy to be single while going through this period in my life as grief can take a major toll on a relationship and I would hate to put that pressure on someone else and not be able to show up as my best self for my partner. But I’ve also felt lost and alone and wished for nothing more than to have a man by my side who would take the time to understand the intricacies of what I’m going through and who could love me, comfort me, support me and just be there for me on the days I need him most. Some days I feel like I’m very emotionally stable and am doing a good job at processing my feelings. Other days I feel like my brain just tries to disassociate itself from the emotional pain. The rollercoaster of emotions, both positive and negative, is exhausting and it often makes my life feel turbulent and like I’m not in complete control. As someone who previously felt the need to always be in control of every little detail in her life, I’ve found that this lack of control has contributed to a lot of anxiety and has made it very difficult for me to properly regulate my emotions and behaviour because I never know how I’m going to feel from moment to moment.

Grief and Friendships

Although I said my grieving has been mostly internal, it unfortunately has had an impact on a few friendships. I feel like my view on how I fit into this world has changed and so what I value and what’s important to me has changed as well. This has led me to realize that some people no longer fit into my life. And as hard as that is, I’m learning that it’s okay to outgrow people. I’ve also realized who in my life I can really count on, who my true friends are, as some of the people who I expected to be there for me the most have honestly been no where to be found. I remind myself that not everyone knows how to handle such a delicate situation and some people just don’t have the capacity to do so. I have to respect that, they are on their own journey through life, but I am also still allowed to be upset and disappointed by someone’s lack of empathy, support and compassion during a time when I needed it most. That being said, this journey has also led me to connect with a whole host of other incredible people who are so quick to support me through anything and everything. I likely never would have met some of these people if my situation wasn’t what it currently is. So as much as I would do anything to have my sister and my dad back, I know that isn’t possible, so I am extremely grateful to the Universe for bringing me some amazing new friends to help me navigate through this season of life.

Grief and Relationships

However, I think the hardest part for me is that I’ve found myself self-sabotaging potential relationships with certain people for no reason at all. I’ve always prided myself on being a good partner - I’m kind, caring, supportive, helpful, fun, intellectual, goofy, secure in who I am, level-headed, easy going, confident, emotionally stable - I know I make a great girlfriend. And yet lately I feel like every time I have a chance at building a relationship with someone, I quickly do something to mess it up. I’m getting a little vulnerable here, but it’s like I all of a sudden have no control over my brain - I get in my head, I overthink and then I act in a destructive manner towards the person who I care a lot about. Then later, when the fog lifts, when my rational brain comes back and when I regain control of my emotions, I feel so stupid for acting in a way that is so counter to who I actually am. That just leads me to feelings of confusion because in those moments I don’t recognize myself at all, and not knowing why you’re acting a certain way or knowing you’re acting in a negative way but not having the power to stop yourself from doing it is a scary thing. I become scared that I’ve pushed someone who I really like away. I get scared that they’ll think I’m a mess, that they’ll think I’m crazy instead of understanding that I’m just a girl who is hurting, a girl who is still learning to process everything she’s been through. Thinking like that then leads to me getting in my head and overthinking again. It’s like a negative spiral that I can’t get out of. I’ll think I’m in a good spot, I’ll be proud of myself for seeing a situation clearly, but then my grief brain pops up and causes me to act irrationally without me really realizing it. Only later, when the grief brain has subsided, do I realize my actions are clearly showing me that I’m not as okay as I initially thought I was. This leads to me ruminating on all the should’ve, could’ve, would’ve scenarios that I know are so unhealthy. I’ve always been someone who keeps their emotions to themself. I’d bottle them up, shove them down deep and forget about them as they slowly, unconsciously ate away at me. After Marcie passed, I realized how stupid that was. We only get one shot at this life and we never know when that could be taken away from us, so I promised myself to always be open and honest about how I feel in all situations. I never want to miss the opportunity to tell someone what they mean to me. I’ve realized though that to people who haven’t experienced what I have, such openness can come across super intense. I’m just trying to be whole heartedly genuine and yet it gets taken as being “a bit too much”. I get it, I really do. Grief changes you. It changes your thoughts, your actions, your behaviours; it’s unpredictable. So as much as I want to share my life in relationship with somebody else, I’m recognizing that maybe I’m not currently in a position where I can be the kind of partner that I know I can be and that I know that person deserves.

Another thing that I’ve noticed is currently affecting my ability to form a secure relationship with someone is my inability to properly communicate. Communication in a relationship is important to me and it’s something that before I endured these losses I was working really hard on improving. The trouble is that now, because of my grief brain, more often than not I find myself struggling to speak, to express my thoughts, to put what I want to say into words. It’s like I’m tongue tied, tripping over my words and just can’t seem to turn the thoughts in my head into coherent sentences. This tends to lead to me bombarding people with long, emotional messages in an attempt to try and get all my thoughts out and try to get them to understand what I really mean. Unfortunately this usually just leads to further misunderstandings because I can’t seem to convey what I’m actually trying to say and I just end up getting irritated with myself that everything is coming across all wrong or being taken the wrong way. This seems to lead to me unintentionally lashing out or getting passive aggressive towards the person I’m trying so hard to communicate with. Then again, I get in my head and I think I’ve just scared them off and start overthinking about that which leads to a vicious circle of me then trying to explain myself all over again but again feeling like what I’m saying isn’t resonating how I want it to. It makes me feel like I’m acting too intense towards people when really I’m just frustrated that I feel so misunderstood and can’t seem to communicate in the genuine and healthy way that it comes across in my head. Relationships need good communication in order to thrive and as much as I try to force that sometimes, I recognize that not everyone has the time, patience, capacity, whatever, to handle the rollercoaster that is currently my life. No one owes me anything, everyone is just trying to navigate through their own lives, and so I remind myself that it’s no one’s responsibility but my own to work on and heal the parts of me that I’m not content with. I don’t want to start a relationship while in a state of insecurity anyways. That would likely just end up being detrimental to the relationship. And besides, I know that this state I’m in won’t last. When the fog lifts, when my mind clears and when I feel like myself again, I know the right person will be there waiting for me and I know I’ll be able to be an even better partner for them than I’ve ever been before because of my ability to get through and over-come all that I am currently going through.

Where Am I Now And How Am I Moving Forward?

My friend uses a phrase that really resonates with me. She says “you have to sink before you can swim” (shoutout Erin!) When I heard her say this for the first time it’s like something inside me clicked, I was able to grasp what I was going through with a lot more compassion than what I was previously giving myself. I realized that I don’t have to totally understand how I feel all the time. I don’t have to always be in control of my emotions. I don’t have to have it all figured out. Other people may not like it, it may affect my interactions with others, but this is my journey and I give myself the grace to let it unravel as it will. Grief is grief. It’s going to manifest itself in many ways - some that make sense and some that don’t, some that I can control and some I can’t, some that I’ll be aware of and some I won’t. It’s natural to hit rock bottom when dealing with loss and grief. It’s natural to have setbacks even when you think you’re on the right path. But eventually I will find the courage to learn how to swim again. Scratch that. I am finding the courage to learn how to swim again!

Its taken time to get to where I am today and it’s still very much a work in progress. As much as I wish I could say otherwise, I’m far from healed. Every time I think I’m in a good place, a bit of time passes and then I realize I wasn’t quite as good as I thought I was. I realize what I thought were sincere or emotionally stable actions or conversations sometimes end up being me actually still reacting from a place of grief. But I continue to remind myself that that’s okay. Being aware of the fact that I’m still struggling instead of trying to hide behind it or mask it is a really big step in my healing journey. I recognize that my life will never be the same. I recognize there will always be a giant hole in my heart and that this will forever have an impact on how I live and view things moving forward. But I also recognize that living my life and dealing with grief are not mutually exclusive; they can coexist and that is what I’m currently working towards - a beautiful life, a rewarding life, a life where I live to the fullest and don’t hold back but at the same time, a life that honours the lives of those I’ve lost and keeps their memories close to me through everything I do, vowing to never forget them.

At times, grief jeopardizes my emotional stability, it undermines my self confidence, it throws me off balance and it leaves me searching for feelings of safety, security and a sense of calmness to finally just give myself a reprieve from it all. I still have lots of intense and confusing thoughts, memories and emotions to process. The death of a loved one is a life-transforming event that we carry with us forever. But I’m learning to accept that this is the stage of life I’m in right now, that the people meant to be in my life won’t abandon me no matter how hard it gets or how hard I try to push them away - they’ll recognize that I’m just hurting and know that as I heal our relationship and friendship will only grow stronger.

I read a quote that said:

“Your brain is adjusting to the emotional impact of the loss and needs time to readjust and to heal. Grieving takes a LOT of energy and effort, and this “energy drain” impacts the brain’s ability to operate as it would under normal circumstances.”

This is something I try to keep in mind as I navigate my way through this journey. My thoughts, my actions, my feelings, they are all normal. It may be hard to always be confused and not know who I’m going to be or how I’m going to react to things on a daily basis, but that’s okay. Just because that’s where I’m at in life right now doesn’t mean this is where I’m always going to be. As Marcie’s tattoo said - “this too shall pass.”