Humans tend to put their best face forward. We’ve learned that to make society work, we can’t be depressed and give in to emotions all the time. We think that showing our grief gets in the way of life, and life must go on, so we hide our feelings. Grief is something all humans can experience, and yet you almost never see it displayed in public. You almost will never see it in your own home. We keep it under wraps.
When I cry about my boyfriend who died 18 months ago, I do it when no one’s around. I don’t really care what anyone thinks about my feelings — he was the love of my life and I show this love through the grief. I just choose not to cry in front of others because then I have to deal with their reactions. I end up having to explain things when words can’t possibly explain how I feel.
I’ll be having a good day — things are going great — and the grief will sneak up on me. Maybe I’m driving my car or I’m texting with someone. It doesn’t matter. It’s a wave that rises up and comes crashing down on me. It comes out of nowhere. And I just break into a million pieces. I feel like I’m sucked out of stable life into the abyss and I am merely drifting. I’m a ghost of a person.
I don’t let people see this. But I will talk about it.
Because of this horrific experience in my life, I am now a grief counselor. I am a “death doula” although I don’t call myself that. People whose loves have passed away find me and I hear their stories. I offer spiritual insights and tell them how this person is still right there and everything is just as it’s meant to be. It’s comforting for all involved.
They tell me how sad they are, too. We tell each other when there’s a bad day — one where we can barely get out of bed or function as a human. We tell each other how we’re struggling to find a reason to keep living. We’re in dark places. But if you saw these people, you wouldn’t know.
We’re so used to trying to be a functional part of the world that we don’t allow people to see our grief. We think we’ll be shamed for semi-suicidal thoughts. We don’t want our bosses and acquaintances to know how lost we are. They wouldn’t understand.
The waves of grief are invisible.
When people are grieving you can’t tell. They will try to keep you from seeing their darkest moments. They seem normal to you. They’re rational and functional. Behind closed doors, they’re falling apart.
Don’t assume that someone who’s lost a loved one is fine. They’re struggling. They won’t seem like it to you because it’s exhausting crying all the time, and no fun having someone watch them cry. But you have to understand that nothing they’re enduring is easy in the least bit.
It’s a strange thing, grief. The way people handle it is never as you expect. You’d think that someone who is grieving would make a show of sadness so it’s obvious all the time, but this is not the case. Some people withdraw into solitude, others use their emotions to hurt others instead of facing the hurt inside them, and if you’re like me, you keep trying to act just as social as ever to try to keep existence stable.
I’ve had friends who stopped talking to me when I was in the depths of grief because I didn’t text them back. I’ve had people act shocked when I said I am still struggling months (only months!) after my love died. It’s hard to have to explain this to someone. It’s stupid. You shouldn’t have to logically explain your grief to anyone.
So, it’s just easier to keep grief as something that I allow to wash over me when I’m alone.
Tarot Readings
Emily offers tarot and psychic readings to help you understand your spiritual journey. These are done by Zoom, phone, or email. Ask questions on any topic you like!
Spiritual Counseling
Understand your path and how to manifest your best life. Learn about inner healing or talk about your soul’s purpose. Book a session to talk about your spiritual journey with Emily!
About Emily
Emily is a writer, coach, intuitive reader, and content creator with a background in philosophy.
Good day, your story about grief has touch me in so many ways. My twin soul has passed leaving me in a state of shock. I was supposed to go see him but I got so many distractions that keep it from happening. Then I find out that he transitioned 9 days ago. I feel lost but I know that there must be some type of lesson I must learn.
I’m so sorry this happened to you, but yes, there is a greater purpose in it. Things are not always as they seem from our human perspectives on the surface.