How to Recover from a Loss

"If you're feeling low, don't despair. The sun has a sinking spell every night, but it comes back up every morning." That line belongs to Dolly Parton, and it holds up when the subject is grief.

Few things cut as deep as losing someone who mattered. A friend, a child, a spouse or partner, a cousin, an aunt or uncle, a parent, a grandparent, even a pet: when they're gone, it can feel as though your life has been permanently rerouted. In some sense that feeling is accurate. Things won't be the same. But the gap between how it feels today and how it will feel later is real, and it closes a little with each passing day. You'll keep missing the person. You'll keep loving them and wishing they were here. Over time, though, you adjust.

Grieving is not a malfunction. It's the mind's normal response to losing something it was attached to, and it's how you make contact with the reality in front of you now. No two people do it the same way, which means there's no correct schedule and no correct choreography. You grieve in your own manner, on your own clock.

Along the way the emotions rarely sit still. Sadness, then anxiety. Anger, then guilt. Depression, frustration, regret, moments where everything feels hopeless and you feel powerless to fix any of it. These swings don't mean something has gone wrong. They mean the process is working. What grief is doing, underneath all of it, is helping you absorb what happened and arrive at some kind of peace, so that eventually you can hold onto the good time you had together and keep going.

If you're searching for a way through this, here are stages people commonly pass through.

Shock and disbelief. The first word of a death often lands as numbness and refusal. Your reality has changed without warning, and the mind doesn't catch up right away. Conflicting feelings crowd in at once. Denial is common. You may feel disoriented, unsure what to do or even what you're supposed to feel, vaguely lost and out of step with everything around you. This is the point to lean on the people closest to you. Don't seal the grief up inside just because you're not expressing it the way others expect. You don't owe anyone hysterical crying or a slide into deep depression; grieve however fits you. What you shouldn't do is wave off the pain as though it isn't there. Say plainly, to yourself at least, that you miss this person and that your life has changed in a way that counts. Recovery starts with that honesty: accepting that things won't return to what they were, that you lost something precious and irreplaceable. With acceptance and some support, you do reach a day when you can smile again, laugh again, live again.

Anger. For most people this one shows up whether they invite it or not, and it has its uses. Sometimes you need to throw something, hit a punching bag, scream, yell, stomp around the room. Does it help? Sometimes it does, and if it moves you forward it's worth the try. Anger after losing someone close is ordinary. You might turn to God or whatever higher power you believe in and demand to know why this happened, why this particular person had to die, how any of it could be fair. You might also turn the anger inward. You replay the last conversation, the last time you saw them, and you start blaming yourself for not being around more, for not doing something you imagine could have changed the outcome. Often that guilt points at a cause that never existed; there was nothing you could have done. Depression can braid itself into this stage too, especially after a long illness, especially if you bargained with your higher power to spare them and then felt betrayed when they died anyway. There's a particular ache in having survived when they didn't, sharper still if you had prayed for the reverse. Confusion and frustration tend to tangle up with the anger here. The work of this stage is to let the anger out in ways that don't harm you: grief counseling, time with friends and family, support group meetings, exercise, stress-management practices, keeping a journal.

Acceptance. By this third stage you're able to take in the new reality, which means acknowledging that the person is gone and isn't coming back. For most people this is both the hardest part and the longest. Letting go tears at something in you. Nobody wants to lose someone they love, and that holds even when the one you lost was a pet, so accepting it for good can feel out of reach. It isn't. You will recover. It takes time, that's all. Your life has changed for good, but changed is not the same as over. You'll be happy again. The person's days on earth ended; yours didn't. Squandering the time you still have would be the opposite of what they'd want for you. They'd want you living fully, not giving up. And the pain does ease as the days accumulate.

One note. If you find you can't get through this on your own, a grief counselor can help you process what you're feeling and build ways to cope. They offer coping strategies and a space to put the grief into words. You are not alone in this. People are willing and able to help; the only move required of you is to reach out.

- Dr. R. Y. Langham

References: Axelrod, J. (2015). 5 stages of loss and grief. Psych Central. Huffington Post. (2010). 18 quotes on strength and wisdom after a loss. WebMD. (2015). Grief and grieving - What happens?