Q&A About Grief With Alyssa B., LPC

Written for the Hunter E. Boss Foundation

Topics: grief, loss of a loved one, suicidal ideation, mental health

One of my very best friends is Alyssa. For those of you familiar with us, that is enough of an introduction. To those who are not, the short story is that God wanted us to be friends so badly, he made our lives crisscross until we had no choice but to concede to friendship.

Alyssa and I met in preschool, became best friends in grade school, and have been each other’s steadfast sidekick ever since. We have seen each other through life’s highs and lows…even the really awful ones. In 2017, Alyssa lost her fiancé, Reece. Our grief seasons have been lived in off-beat synchronicity, holding hands in the darkness. 

In addition to her sparkling personality and contagious smile, Alyssa is a licensed practicing counselor, giving her immense insight into both the experience and treatment of grief and grief-related PTSD. She graciously agreed to chat with me about grief, mental health, and coping skills. 

You were halfway through your MS when Reece passed away. What is one thing you experienced in your grief that you think mental health professionals are misinformed about?

I think what surprised me most was the amount of energy and effort it took to survive. I think most mental health professionals understand the Kubler Ross stages of grief (which actually aren’t even accurate because those were based on people’s experience of limb loss, not human loss). I think professionals know how to sit in silence and discomfort, empathize and feel for their client, and understand the depression that comes with grief…but I truly believe if someone—even a professional—has not experienced grief (at least traumatic grief), they cannot fully know what it feels like to live those chaotic days out. They can’t truly know the exhaustion and heaviness that lingers in our chests and hearts, making us question whether or not we truly can survive without our person. Grief is tiresome.

One of the first things you said to me when we were together after Reece’s funeral was, "I don't know much of anything right now, but I know I like Diet Coke." You and I have talked through the importance of finding things that feel “normal” when life is not. What are some simple, normal things people can prioritize when grief is overwhelming?

Often the last things we tend to want to do are things that feel routine. Routine feels empty when the building blocks of our stability go missing. But I believe that comfort, routines, and schedules absolutely should be prioritized. Keeping elements of familiarity intact keeps a sense of normalcy. In a time where things feel so wildly out of control, there are still things we can control. Are you a walker? Go for a walk. Do you love orange pop? Drink it. Do you always go to Bible study on Wednesdays? Try going. Grief throws off our entire lives, but reaching for things we understand helps restore some sense of a baseline. (Even if it’s as simple as a Diet Coke.)

Grief is lonely. How do we make it less isolating? 

Prioritize talking to friends and loved ones, normalize being real and honest with how you’re feeling.  We often don’t want to feel like a burden to others, but I think we don’t always give our safest people enough credit. They can handle the raw tenderness of our mourning. Prioritize your feelings, listen to your body, and know that it is okay to feel whatever it is that is coming up. Push yourself to be with people (even if for a short period of time) and to lean into those who are present and wanting to help.

What are some “symptoms” of grief people often overlook or downplay? How can they be addressed?

●       Anger. As Christians, we like to pass right over anger; it’s uncomfy and we have often been told anger is bad or wrong. It’s not; it’s a normal human emotion that deserves space.  FEEL THAT ANGER. Scream. Yell. Cry. Swear. Run really fast. Allow your body the respect it deserves, and experience the anger because OF COURSE YOU’RE ANGRY and THAT’S OKAY!

●       Suicidal ideations. Whether they are passive or not, people do not talk about the scary thoughts you may experience. Sometimes it’s the idea of “I just don’t want to exist anymore,” but sometimes it’s much more severe. Not talking about those things is such a disservice, because you are not bad or abnormal for having those thoughts. HOWEVER, like you mentioned in an earlier essay, thinking is different from acting. If you find yourself even somewhat making a plan, or taking a step in that direction, talk to someone! Contact a trusted friend, family member, mental health professional, or the suicide hotline—1-800-273-8255, or 988. There are also text and web chat options. It is easy, safe, and free for anyone needing immediate support. Do not feel these feelings alone.

●       Depression. We get a lot of platitudes when we are grieving, but the depth of grief depression is not comfortable. So, we shy away and instead say things like “everything happens for a reason”, “God won't give you more than you can handle”, or “at least he is living his best life now.” No. Stop. At best, those are gross oversimplifications; at worst, they are harmful expectations. We need to be willing to embrace our unshowered friend, their messy house, their piles of unwashed clothes, and we need to let them know that it is okay and there is no need to mask the depression.

That being said, we are accountable for our actions and words. Grieving does not give us a free card to behave poorly toward others. Sometimes we will be irritable and frustrated, that’s part of processing. But we also need to be willing to apologize when grief makes us snap unexpectedly. 

People often feel like they can’t be angry with God—like it’s a crisis of faith to be angry. Thoughts?

One of the best pieces of advice I got during my grief was this: you can be angry with God, you can question him, scream at him, and not trust him, but do that while you are facing him, and not when you are walking away. Invite God into the anger. He loves us even in our most angry moments. And trust me, the God of the universe can handle even your strongest emotions.

Can you explain the circle of grief and how it offers some ground rules for sympathy etiquette?

The circle of grief is based on Jewish tradition. The grief circle that I often use looks like a target. The most inner circle is the person closest to the traumatic event. The next circle would be family. The following circle is friends, then community members, etc. The idea of this circle is that whichever ring you find yourself in, the ring outside of yours is the ring that you should communicate to about your grief—always outward, never inward. 

We should not be telling the person in the center circle how sad we are, how hard our lives are now, etc. We can (and should!) mourn with them, be present with them, show our sadness and grief, but we should not be placing weight and pressure on them to also take care of us. Oftentimes those in the innermost circle find themselves feeling the need to comfort others which is a pressure that is not necessary in this journey. So grieve out, not in.

If you’re curious about the Jewish tradition here is a simple outline of what other grief practices look like: https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/timeline-of-jewish-mourning/.

Is talk therapy (with a licensed professional) useful in grief processing? In what ways?

●       I may be a bit biased here, but I think it is extremely useful. I have a few different experiences with talk therapy for grief. I went to talk therapy about four months after Reece passed away. At that point it was solely a place to set down the heaviness of the hard topics that no one else talks about. I used it as a sounding board, and a place to validate and reassure me that I was not losing my mind. 

●       When I was four years into my grief journey, I went to a therapist who specializes in grief.  That was a place where I was given language to express my feelings. I was taught how to sit in my discomfort rather than avoiding it. I was able to process through my experience, understand my anger, understand my disappointment, and understand the idea of shattered assumptions. The idea that the world is mostly a safe place can disappear after a trauma. We no longer feel safe when all of our assumptions about life and order are suddenly shattered. Grief therapy helped me set boundaries, learn healthy ways to cope, and re-establish trust. 

●       Now, over five years into my grief journey, I have started seeing an EMDR certified therapist that will help me process through the event. I am hoping to gain tools to deal with fear, terror, and anxiety in a healthy way. 

Each of these talk therapy experiences was just as important as the other; each one was what I needed at that moment. I am thankful that I chose to get help, even when I thought I could do it alone. 

People may not need all of these, and some people might. Some people might love group counseling, such as Gilda’s Club or Starlight ministries (both local to GR area), which are wonderful safe havens where you will be surrounded by people who just GET IT.  They will not judge the thoughts or feelings you have, because they are thinking and feeling similarly. 

It is often said that “grief isn't linear.” What does that look like in application?

I think there is a misconception that we go through the five or seven stages of grief and then we feel better. In reality, we may experience each of those stages in a matter of seconds, and then they start over. There may be stages you don’t experience, there may be stages you are stuck in for quite some time, there may be some stages that you fly right through. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. 

Grief to me is similar to being on a boat in the ocean in a storm. In the beginning the waves are giant, they are crashing over you, you are panicked, trying to catch your breath and stay afloat. After some time, the storm begins to calm down, the waves feel less big, you catch your breath, and you are swimming at a steady pace. But we know oceans have waves. There may be days where we get a wave of grief, and it is unexpected—sometimes nothing even happens to trigger it, it’s just there. Grief is ever-present and not linear. We do not “get through” grief, we learn to exist in the same space with it, coexisting with it, and pulling a chair up to our table for it. Be kind to yourself if you ever find yourself on a grief journey. We all deserve grace in the worst experiences in our lives.

“Grief is a force of energy that cannot be controlled or predicted. It comes and goes on its own schedule. Grief does not obey your plans, or your wishes. Grief will do whatever it wants to you, whenever it wants to. In that way, grief has a lot in common with love.”

 -Elizabeth Gilbert