This past Sunday marked the 30th anniversary of the death of someone very dear to me. Thirty years gone, and my grief is so tremendous, still, that it manages to throw me off balance and send me straight into the void of darkness. Surely, that’s not healthy? It never used to bother me before – back when my entire existence consisted of me wallowing in my putrid pigsty of pain – but as that’s no longer an option, I’ve been tempted into a little research project to find out if my current suspicion can be backed by science.

My theory is this; being unable to grieve properly at the time has affected how I deal with feelings in general and thus stunted my emotional growth. I am sure that a lot can be learned from the experience of losing a loved one and dealing with the loss. As cheesy as it may sound, I am curious to find out if allowing myself to feel will help me heal. I think it just might be instrumental.

There are a million articles online about how important the grieving process is, but I think the way writer Jon Scalabrini articulates the detrimental effects of suppressing or not acknowledging certain feelings in his article on Peacefully.com illustrates my understanding perfectly and succinctly:

“By avoiding emotions, one creates future challenges; thus, “moving on” in the short term ultimately creates long-term difficulties.”

You can read the article in full by clicking anywhere on this sentence.

In my case, I was forced to move on too quickly due to matters outside of my control. This taught me – and my subconscious – that my feelings were not valid or important and therefore should not be acknowledged. My black and white thinking made sure this would be applied to all future scenarios where I’d be likely to feel strongly about something – or someone – in any way. I was unable to see how this could be circumstantial. So, to make things easier for myself and everyone else, I adapted. Or, likely overcorrected. I adopted a few terrible coping mechanisms once I entered young adulthood, which have continued to block my path to enlightenment.

I feel as if this is something that I need to un-learn, so I was delighted to find an episode from the American Psychological Association’s podcast series Speaking of Psychology, where interviewee Dr. Mary-Frances O’Connor, an associate professor of psychology at the University of Arizona, spoke about her studies on grief and grieving and how grieving can be a form of learning, among other things. The episode is called How grieving changes the brain and is available on the APA’s website, as well as on podcast streaming platforms.

I was not so delighted, however, to find that I likely suffer from prolonged grief disorder. Oh well, I’m sure there is CBT for that. Anyway.

O’Connor goes on to explain how the grieving process involves having to learn to live our lives without the person we’ve lost in it, that we need to find out who we are, now that the world around us has changed in such a profound way. It’s a rewiring of the brain – a learning process. Neuroplasticity. It’s a very interesting episode, as they go into the difference between grief and grieving, links to depression and different types of therapy that can help with the grieving process.

My main take from the episode, to benefit the validity of my theory, is that we must acknowledge the feelings we are experiencing for us to go through the process and come out on the other side of it stronger than we were when we went in. It is my understanding that avoidance is the opposite of helpful if we want to learn and ultimately move on. And accepting a loss as reality does not mean that we have to stop loving the person they were when they were still here, but that we cannot let that loss or its circumstances dictate how we live our lives from that point on. We need to accept the fact that it is okay to love again, whilst realising how a new love does not take away from the old one. Moving on does not mean that we have to forget, but perhaps – with time – we can learn how to look back at the fond memories that made us cherish them so, instead of clinging to the sadness and the trauma we experienced when they were taken from us.

Now, back to those “long-term difficulties” from the Scalabrini quote. My experience taught me that I was worthless. A deep emotional wound that has kept growing and festered over the years, by giving me the gift of trust issues, self-deprecating behaviour and self-sabotage, and only allowing myself to “feel” or emote when I’ve had enough alcohol to justify letting the tears stream freely down my face. I’d schedule my emotive cries, so not to become emotional in public. But by doing this with my painful emotions, my brain would of course apply this to any positive feelings as well, meaning that I wouldn’t allow myself to acknowledge any feelings of happiness either.

It’s a lot easier to convince yourself that you’re unlovable, than it is to remain hopeful that someone will one day actually think you’re something other than a huge piece of shite. Unless you start administering some much needed self-care post-haste.

I think, based on what I’ve learned today, that my theory holds up. What’s more – because of this – I now realise that it is not too late to start rewiring my brain so that I can make my way through the final stage of the process of my prolonged grief. Acknowledging the feelings, accepting the loss and starting to look at how my life would be different if I wasn’t so gung ho on treating everything based on something I interpreted incorrectly three decades ago are all parts of the healing process.

Never let anyone tell you how you should or should not feel – it can only lead to bad things, as we’ve learned from my previous post on the importance of having your emotions validated.

That’s it for today. Buy my book! See you next Tuesday.