Riding the Waves in the Tsunami of Grief

It hit – and it hit hard.

At first, I thought I was just tired with no motivation to start the day. My bed was warm and comfortable so who wants to get out of bed when you’re so cozy?

My first attempt to walk the dogs failed.

“They can take the morning off. I’ll walk them later.”

Then the thought of showering and getting dressed seemed too daunting that I passed on that too. Most of my meetings that morning were on the telephone so getting dressed was optional.

I stayed nestled in my bed another thirty minutes and then the aches in body started. A pressure on my chest, an ache in my back, and a slight headache ensued.

“What is going on? This feels so different than a flu.”

As I got out of bed, I felt the tears start to well up. Knowing what I know now (things were very different just a few short years ago), I knew to just stay with it and see where these tears would lead.

One tear fell, then another; then the floodgates opened. I sobbed.

I wanted to brush it all off and tell myself to get over it but I knew better. This was happening and it was real. Supressing it would only lead to far more pain later.

As the tears dried up and I got out of bed, I felt weak. This was going to be a day to be present in my grief.

For those that may not know, my father died in April, a little over eight months ago. I’ve had many losses in recent years including my mother, my sister-in-law, our 16 ½ year old shepherd/husky and a business that I absolutely loved. There have been other losses too and on this morning, they were all fresh and raw.

The tsunami had hit and it was taking me with it.

As I made the realization, I knew this was not going to be an ordinary day, nor was it going to be an ordinary day of grief. This was a big one.

First, I had to reschedule my morning appointments and have a plan to clear the afternoon ones too in case this was going to be “The Big One”.

I made my way to the couch, in my pyjamas, grabbed a blanket and turned on the TV. As I didn’t feel like much, I chose to scan the movies and decided upon “If I Stay”.

For some, this may be the worst kind of movie to watch when all you want to do is crawl into a hole and surface in the spring. But for me, this was the perfect movie to put things into perspective and let the tears flow freely should they come.

And yup – they did. Many times and it felt great!

The next movie I chose was “The Hundred-Foot Journey”, something upbeat and, as my friend Kim puts it, food porn! With no appetite, it was the perfect movie to bring on this day’s journey.

It was nearing mid-afternoon. My thoughts began to turn to when the kids and my husband would be home and boy, I didn’t want to be around anyone. I wanted to be alone.

I grabbed a few things and decided I would head to a nearby hotel to be in my own world as this tsunami of grief had its hold on me.

As I was preparing to get dressed, a voice inside told me to stay. Despite my wanting to run away and be alone, this voice was encouraging me to let them be present for this experience.

Back to the sofa I headed, buried in a blanket with the remote in hand. Time for another movie. The next selection was “Seven Pounds” featuring Will Smith. An old movie that I had seen before but didn’t quite remember the story.

As my kids came in, they saw that I was not having the best day. Both of them hugged and kissed me and during the evening, cuddled with me on the sofa. (They are 20 and 17, so having them there meant more than words can say.)

My hubby did the same.

Boy was I glad I didn’t run away. Being with them was the best medicine.

As the evening unfolded and it was time for bed, I knew that taking the day to let the feelings, the pain, the grief move through me was of utmost importance. The following morning was a fresh, new day and I welcomed the relief from the tsunami of grief.

From this experience and from what I’ve come to learn through the years working with families and dealing with my own grief, here are some lessons that may help you or a loved one when the tsunami of grief hits:

1. Acknowledge what you are feeling: Rather than brush off the pain and sadness you are feeling, be present in it and acknowledge it for what it is. It is grief, you are mourning a loss and being aware that you are feeling the grips of the pain is healthy and it will pass.

2. Don’t suppress how you feel: Often we turn to the outside to fill a void or stop the pain we are feeling. Alcohol, drugs, shopping, gambling, eating or any other form of self-numbing is what has led to us being the most overweight, addicted, in-debt and over-medicated society that has ever lived (Dr. Brene Brown). When you acknowledge that you are feeling the pain of grief, don’t suppress it with an outside substance. Feel it. Acknowledge it. Let it move through you. Let the tears flow and feel the pain as you release it.

3. Be present in the pain and let it move through you: As the pain begins to move through you, release it through tears, punching of pillows, screaming, painting, drawing, going for a walk. Allow the energy to move from your body to the outside world. As you release it, relief is on the way.

4. Don’t run away: Running away from what you are feeling will only open the door for it to come back stronger, harder and more frequently later. Isolation for an extended period of time can lead to further complications including illness, depression and harmful thoughts. Know that as you stay present in your grief, and not run from it, releasing it will free you from its grip.

5. Allow others to be present in your experience: As stated above, isolation for an extended period of time can be detrimental to your wellbeing. Let go of what others will think and be honest with how you are feeling. Allow them to be a source of comfort to you and give in to the vulnerability that grief imposes on us human beings. Open yourself up to knowing that a journey of grief is not one that is meant to be experienced alone. Others are there to help.

For further information on where to turn for help, here are some resources that I recommend:

Moving Forward After Loss

I Wasn’t Ready to Say Goodbye

Finding Hope

Life After Loss

 

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Showing 2 comments
  • Jacquie Perry
    Reply

    Thank you for writing this, I have just been hit by an almighty grief bomb…..it started out of nowhere. I was sitting in my sun room quietly happy and contemplating a what to do today. I was content. Then out of nowhere this huge wave of grief hit me like a ton of bricks. It paralysed me and I ended up on the sofa sobbing like a baby. The next few days were no better but what was added to it was the intense fatigue. I would sleep 8 hours in the night, by 1pm the next day I was asleep deeply on the sofa with the blanket wrapped around me. I felt isolated, alone and having very very deeply distressing thoughts. I didn’t know what was going on. Then I searched the internet. It appears I was hit by a grief tsunami exactly 9 months after my fathers death. My tsunami is strong and has been going on for 3 days getting less and less strong as it recedes. It took my breath away. I was not prepared for this and thats the point of grief it will hit you when you least expect it. Thankfully my daughter understands and we help each other through it. I was pleased to read your experience which sounds very much like mine.

    • Pierrette Raymond
      Reply

      Hi Jacquie – thank you for sharing your experience. It’s so common and yet we don’t speak of it too commonly. We hide in our grief when it’s something we all go through at one time or another in our lives. And if there’s multiple losses in a short period of time, or deep impactful losses over time, the grief compounds, especially if it’s not expressed and released. I’m glad that you have your daughter and you are getting through it together. Remember to take care of you and do things to release the grief – scream, cry, punch pillows, paint, draw, walk, run, dance, sing….whatever you can physically do to release the pain. Let it come out. The fatigue is part of the grief and it will subside. Sending you love as you go through your grief and sadness.

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