Last time I drank. I already had a drinking problem and it was the only way I knew how to quiet my mind, so it escalated. After a few months I quit (still sober 6 years later), went to therapy, let myself feel the loss and talked about it. After a while you realise that you haven’t thought about it all day, maybe all week. You don’t forget the person and the feeling of loss stays with you, but with time it stops feeling overwhelming. But you have to let yourself feel it first.

Grief is complicated and doesn’t always look the same. When my dad died, he’d been in the hospital for a month for a surprise illness, so I had time to get used to the idea he might not make it out. His older sisters hadn’t seriously considered the possibility. I’d done some “pre grieving” and they hadn’t, so my reaction was a bit less dramatic? outwardly intense?

A friend of mine says grief is an ambush predator. You can be going about your day and suddenly something triggers you to suddenly drown in emotion. When that hits, I just swim in it, feel my feelings, all the complex emotions that come up–anger, loss, regret.

And as time goes on, I’ve gotten ambushed less often, but it can still feel just as intense. I have more practice swimming in it, so maybe I don’t have to excuse myself and hide in a work bathroom to cry anymore, I can just sit at my desk and focus on drinking my coffee.

(It’s after my bedtime, so I hope this all makes sense. There’s also the Grief Box analogy, which feels accurate to me.)

You feel it and you live anyways.

I’m sorry for your loss, and for everyone in this thread who is grieving. The truth is our culture has no idea how to grieve. We are expected to keep it private, which keeps it stuck in us, as everyone who has posted in this thread can attest to.

I went to a grief ritual in a western African lineage, the Dagara people, and their perspective is that colonialism and the evils of western culture are rooted in an inability to grieve. I don’t disagree.

Sobonfu Somé and Melidoma Somé were brought up by that tribe to teach their grieving rituals in the west. If you can find a Dagara grief ritual near you I cannot recommend it more highly. I’ve been on a 15 year healing journey, over six months of silent Buddhist meditation retreat, over a decade of therapy, many thousands of dollars of trainings and workshops… and some things moved through me in that ritual that nothing had been able to touch prior to that. Sacred Groves on Bainbridge Island in Washington State is where I went.

Anderson Cooper’s podcast on grief is excellent. The best book on the subject that I know of, partially inspired by the Dagara rituals, is the Wild Edge of Sorrow by Francis Weller. He’s interviewed on Anderson’s podcast here.

I hope these resources help. You’re not alone in struggling with grief.

First, I thought of happy memories about that person and let the grief all out. Just a lot of thinking and introspecting.

It doesn’t work for everyone, but for me: relentless and ghoulish dark humor. I’ve told people close to me time and time again that I want my funeral to just be this:

Maybe it’ll help, maybe it won’t. But I think about this Reddit post a lot grief comes in waves

With grief, the only way out is through. Unlike other mental ailments such as depression or anxiety, you’re not going to find a cognitive distortion or flawed line of thinking that is responsible for the distress and can be challenged. Grief is logical, and we have to feel it until it becomes less intense.

What we can do is modulate how much we’re processing at any given moment to try to keep it manageable. Think of it like that saying, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” You can’t change the total size of the task, but you can control how big of bites you take.

Finding what helps you reduce the “bites” will be personal, but starting with some general coping skills like “thought-stopping”, meditation, or any activity that keeps your mind active and occupied is a good start.

When my mother-in-law passed away I attended the funeral in rural China. It was weird for me as a non-Chinese, it seemed to me like everyone was being hysterical with the wailing, pulling at their own hair and clothes in grief etc.

But I joined in anyway and looking back on it I feel that while it seemed weird at the time to grieve so publicly, it was positive to get it all out at once.

Go do something that will start the tears flowing, watch a sad movie if you have to, but once you start let it all out.

I thought these two books were good. Written by a neuroscientist talking specifically about grief:

https://maryfrancesoconnor.org/books/the-grieving-brain

https://maryfrancesoconnor.org/books/the-grieving-body

One crucial thing is that the popular conception of grief as 5 sequential stages is completely wrong. Those are 5 possible options out of more that you’ll likely bounce between over time. Grief is also not improved by a hangover, so it’s best to avoid alcohol and the like.

I feel you. I lost my dad 3 weeks ago.

I always wanted to do some more woodworking, so that is what I did the last weeks in nearly every free minute. Dad would have loved the results, most of it I learned from him. And creating something, that helps. A lot.

This works for me, you will have to find that will work for you.

Be strong. And that means: strong enough to deal with you feelings and grief, not pushing it away or burrowing it

I like to dump my trauma on people and make edgy photography projects and then nobody talks to me and then I’m all alone

I tell myself that the grief is me feeling bad for myself.

How did they go? Was it mercifully fast or drawn out? Was it painful? Were they ready?

And so I try to channel my grief though empathy for their pain rather then focusing on my own feelings of mood

When I was younger — must be close to 40 years ago now — a couple that were close family friends died in a house fire. They were alcoholics. They were terrible examples for a young person and offered dubious life pro-tips. He taught me to drive. They both had a passion for life that I don’t know if I’ve seen before or since. We hung out with them pretty often.

One of them woke up one morning, lit a cigarette, and passed back out. The place burned to the ground. I miss them to this day and wonder how things might’ve gone differently had that not happened. I didn’t cry. I was emotionally numb. I didn’t know how to feel.

For me, there was no moment of catharsis. Not at the funeral or when they were buried. Not driving past the house. There is just a hole. And memories. So many memories, and somehow still vivid in ways that other memories aren’t. Sailing. Camping. Cooking. His stories of growing up in England. Her love of horses. They named their sailboat Dulcinea after the character in Don Quixote. She was ugly, but Don thought she was beautiful. Their boat was not ugly, but they had a great sense of humor.

I was never able to pack that stuff away in a memory to be opened only on special occasions. They are still present with me now in a lot of ways. Things trigger memories of them all the time. I love that I had the opportunity to know them. I wish I could have known them longer, but my memories of them are all happy. Many of them are hilarious.

We were at a fish ladder once, where fishing is prohibited, and ran into a guy who was fishing there. Rich grabbed the pole right out of his hand and threw it into the river. Fucking legend.

I wish I had actual advice for you. The person who linked to the waves post on Reddit probably has it right — that’s some great advice. I can only say you aren’t alone, and 40 years later I’m still not entirely sure how to process their absence, but I’m used to it. I miss them just like I miss everything about that time of my life. And I still see them everywhere when I look around. Every time I pass a lake with a sailboat. Every time I try to drive a stick shift. Every time I play euchre.

Your relative will probably always be with you. Enjoy their presence every time you remember them. Time will see to the rest.

Be well, friend.

I recently lost my aunt and uncle. I didn’t know them very well because they lived in Australia, but we were close. My aunt died suddenly of a heart attack last summer and my uncle passed away from cancer on Christmas evening.

The emotions come and go. Sometimes I feel like crying because I miss them and feel sad that I’m not only never going to see them again, but I’ve also reached that age in life where the people that I’ve known since childhood start to die one by one. Other times I feel completely fine, but then I feel guilty for not even thinking about them. I recently went through the birthday cards that I received throughout my life and I saw one from them and I had very mixed emotions.

Other than them, the only real loss I’ve ever had was my dog. With both, it helps a lot to talk about them ***with the right people. *** It keeps their soul alive and it makes me feel close to them again. I also now try to keep as much memorabilia as I can of the people who are still around. One of my biggest fears is losing my memory of them. Be careful though; know when it’s time to step aside and think of something else.