Grief and Loss
So many faces – so many stories.
A lifetime together
Jim* and his wife had been together for just over 50 years – good and bad – children, grandchildren, even a couple of greatgrandchildren – they’d hardly ever spent a full night apart.
Until his wife received a fateful diagnosis: pancreatic cancer. A six-month life expectancy. They spent the rest of their time together as fully as possible, and he did everything he could to make her comfortable until the end.
His kids want him to move in with them, but he just can’t leave the house that he and his wife shared. So, he’s alone in the house they shared for half a century. He tries to stay active and involved, visits family as much as he can, and keeps Facebook open 24/7.
Regardless, there’s still a massive hole in his life.
Often, he’s “there” with friends and family, but not really “present.”
He’s still losing weight, and he has trouble sleeping. It’s hard to enjoy family time because everything reminds him of her. Even when he does something new, she’s still the one he most wants to share it with.
When it’s really bad, he misses her so much he can’t even breathe.
And this is where I am?
56-year-old Jane has never been married and has no children – she has given the bulk of her life in service to others, but the complications of severe diabetes – obesity, orthopedic issues, neuropathy, to name a few – forced her to cut short a fulfilling career.
“Retirement” certainly hasn’t turned out the way she had always envisioned it. She always thought she’d travel, take a road trip to each of the 50 states, explore things she’d never done – but the fatigue, vision problems, inability to heal, and dietary restrictions have kept her close to home and unable to do any of those things.
There’s certainly been plenty of time, though. Time to reflect on everything she’s been through. Her mother had passed away when she was very young – from the same condition. When Jane was a teenager, her father left her a suicide note, which she found after she had discovered him in the garage, dead.
Some days, all she wants to do is stay in bed. Why bother?
From idyllic to ‘this’???
Larry’s parents had brought him up in a very conservative household – very strong values – mostly revolving around the idea of hard work, independence, and determination.
For years, his adult life had been idyllic: a wife, three kids, a good home, and a steady job. His hard work, ingenuity, and salesmanship had helped him avoid the rampant corporate restructuring that had savaged so many of his friends and coworkers every year.
Until the last one.
He’d done all he could, placing great strain on his relationship with his family. He had sacrificed them to save his job – and now, it was gone, too.
Divorced, estranged, downsized, he now finds himself searching the papers and the Internet for an apartment – and a job. Part-time, full-time, anything. Every day is a struggle against feelings of failure and inadequacy, frustration, and loss.
And every day, he wonders, “How has this happened to me?”
You
What happened to you?
Maybe you’ve always thought of yourself as a fairly satisfied, upbeat person – someone who can handle challenges when they come along – whether from inner constitution, the support of a strong family and friend network, or your spiritual faith.
You feel you should be able to pick yourself up and keep going, except nothing’s prepared you for what you’re going through now.
But you’re not alone.
Everybody grieves.
Grief is a common, natural experience.
But that doesn’t make it easy.
Losing someone you love – whether it’s a spouse, child, other family member, or friend – can create a giant, gaping maelstrom – swirling with negative emotions and emptiness and threatening to suck you into it.
How can you go on? Does the hopelessness ever stop? Does the sadness ever go away?
Who are you without the person you lost?
Can anyone really understand?
It may not even be a person you grieve – it may be a job, a way of life, feelings of trust and safety, an activity you can no longer pursue, your health, your youth, your past.
Deep mental anguish, endured alone and in silence, can go undetected for years and can wreak havoc on your life.
You may not even realize you’re grieving.
But you know something’s wrong.
Somehow, you just can’t seem to enjoy your life, to feel truly fulfilled.
But you can!
Grief and loss are a part of life, but they don’t have to become a way of life.
Reach out to me. Try grief therapy.
I’ll create a safe, comfortable environment where you can share and work through your grief at your own pace.
Together, we’ll discuss what you’re going through – because your experience is unique.
We’ll sort through your world – layer by layer – and we’ll develop a set of tools tailored to your specific needs – to help you cope. To help you feel whole again.
I’ll help you work through your thoughts and feelings – of isolation, rigidity, lack of pleasure in yourself or in others, profound sadness, loneliness, and more.
Together, we’ll rework these into a more meaningful life; we’ll experiment with strategies to help you better understand what you’re going through and how to be more resilient as you grow from day to day.
It’s okay to cry.
Absolutely. You may have been brought up to keep your feelings inside or to believe that tears are a sign of weakness; however, crying provides much needed physical release and is a valuable part of the healing process.
The important part is to talk through the tears. Understanding why you’re crying will help us create a healthy, manageable pathway forward.
Embrace a new perspective.
Dealing with your grief and feelings of loss isn’t about forgetting. It’s about identifying and breaking down the barriers that keep you from moving forward in your life in a way that truly honors your loved one or lost thing.
Yes, one chapter of your life may have closed.
But your story isn’t finished yet! New ones are just waiting for you to write them.
Rediscover your joy. Your hope. Your LIFE.
Together, we’ll honor the memories you’ll always have and define your new normal as you move forward and choose to live, rather than merely exist.
Reach out at (203) 714-0543 for more information about how I can help you!