With the Holidays upon us, I started thinking
about how so many of us experience the complication of reoccurring grief this
time of year and how it can completely catch us off guard. Over the past few
years, I’ve watched three dear friends lose their mothers, two extended family
members lose their husbands, another dear friend lose an adult child, and
witnessed numerous life and career transitions that led to loss and grief.
All of this led me to start mulling over
whether to add grief coaching as a specialty to my practice… As someone
previously deeply affected by grief, I wanted very much to help others heal
from their losses and perhaps avoid some of the pitfalls I experienced, but was
worried it would trigger my grief and hit too close to home, making me an
ineffective coach. Thankfully, my thoughts have been full of love and an
open-hearted desire to help and so I realized I am ready to commit to helping
others in this specific way. I was already coaching people through loss, it
just wasn’t an official specialty. Now it is.
As many of you know, I’ve had my own
experience with grief. Most recently with the loss of my furry four-legged soul
mate Rusty. However, more significantly, seven years ago, when within a matter
of a few months, I was hit with a trifecta of loss: my mother died, I left my
career as a college professor, and in the process lost my identity and sense of
self. It was a lot to handle, and I’ll admit I didn’t handle it all that well...
Sure, I held it together most of the time, but I also experienced the cycle of
grief over a few years that seemed like it would never improve, much less end.
At first, the grief felt all-consuming and lasted
longer than I like to admit
At first, the grief felt all-consuming and lasted longer than I like to admit. I felt paralyzed both mentally and physically. My
mind was fuzzy and numb, and my body felt like it was pinned under an enormous
boulder. Then as time went on, it began to change. The grief went from being a
constant companion, to a regular presence, to an intermittent visitor, and
finally to an infrequent awareness. My mind began to clear, and the boulder
slowly crumbled bit by bit. That’s not to say it was a linear process with a
lesser experience permanently replacing a more intense one. In fact, there were
times when things regressed, but that’s to be expected. And it’s okay.
As the anniversary of my mother’s death
approaches, I feel myself headed into that all too familiar territory of
malaise and the blahs. It’s not a strong form of grief anymore. It even takes a
while for me to realize what’s happening when my mood subtly but clearly changes.
I’m still happy overall, but something feels off, different... I don’t feel
very motivated to get my work done or to socialize much, and I might spend a
day or two binge watching Netflix, reading, or playing a silly video game. And
then it passes.
This is the face of grief for me as the
seventh anniversary of my mother’s death draws near. And it’s a good
opportunity to share my own experience and lessons learned to hopefully help
you understand that your grief is unique to you, just like mine is unique to
me. And that's okay.
There is no “right” amount of time to grieve
There is no “right” amount of time to grieve
There is no “right” amount of time to grieve
and expecting to “snap out of it” after a certain amount of time just because someone
you know did isn’t realistic or fair. While one person may move through the
process in a matter of weeks, it can take another person years. Neither person
is doing it wrong.
Also, Grief isn’t a linear process. One person
may go through all five of Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief (denial, anger,
bargaining, depression, acceptance) in order, whereas another may go through
them in a different order, skip a stage or two altogether, or revisit an
earlier stage later in the process. Neither person is doing it wrong.
All too often, grief causes situational depression, which can
profoundly affect our ability to be fully present in our own lives. If you find
yourself in this situation, there is no shame in seeking help from a licensed
therapist. Coaching can absolutely help you deal with loss, but it is not
counseling and cannot take the place of a skilled therapist and the appropriate
use of medication, when indicated, to help release you from the sense of hopelessness
that may accompany your grief. Again, whether or not you take this route, you
are not doing it wrong.
I
had never experienced depression or seen a
therapist until my personal trifecta of loss. After six months or so, I
finally
went to my doctor. I took an antidepressant and saw a therapist for
about a
year until the worst was over and am so glad I spoke up and asked for
help. While
medication and counseling were helpful, I would have healed faster and
more effectively
if I had known about coaching and how it can complement them. Alone or
in coordination with counseling, coaching can be an extremely effective
tool in dealing with loss.
I’ve grieved the loss of my mother, other loved
ones, a beloved pet, friendships, a hard-earned career, my identity, and even
aspects of my health. I know how grief operates, and how if we don’t take
action, it can be crippling. I also understand that no two people grieve the
same way or in the same amount of time. There is no right way to grieve and
judging yourself based on others’ grief experience is not helpful. Comparison
with others is rarely a good idea anyway, much less when it comes to grief.

If you need to talk to someone, please do, even if it’s not to me. And remember, you never have to walk this path alone.
If you are grieving a loss of any sort, my New Year wish for you is to be kind to yourself throughout the grieving process.
Be well my friends