10 Things People Don’t Tell You About Grief

1. There is no model of grief.

Throw everything you’ve read out the window and expect the emotional roller coaster ride of your life. Forget Kubler-Ross, or the dual process, or a nice linear journey of acceptance.

Everyone’s experience will be different, how I grieve for my parents will be different from how someone else grieves for theirs. And you know what? That’s alright. There’s no manual for grief, so just roll with the punches (of which there will be many).

2. It is the ninja of emotions.

Grief hits you with a swift, sharp blow to the stomach when you are alone in your car, walking the vegetable aisle at the supermarket, or surrounded by a group of cheerfully chatting friends.

It sneaks up on you on a date causing you to spend a suspicious amount of time in the toilet, or whilst you chop potatoes for your dinner next to the kitchen sink. Anytime, anywhere.

3. There will be irrational anger.

At anything. At your nearest and dearest, most often. About how they forgot to buy milk. Or that they asked you why you were sad today. But most surprisingly, at everyone else.

Your anger will become so irrational you won’t be able to explain why seeing elderly people makes you cross. Or seeing people treat their bodies with total disregard by knocking back copious amounts of junk food, alcohol and drugs fills you with a burning rage. Or even just seeing people with their parents.

4. Most people who hear your news that someone you love has died will not respond the way you want them to.

Be prepared for the “oh well, at least they didn’t suffer,” or “they’re in a better place now.” Or, “well, it was a good age to go.” Or my favourite, “at least she didn’t know it was happening.”

It speaks volumes of our discomfort around the topic of death that people come out with such bizarre things to say. When you are grieving, some responses can be particularly crushing, to say the least.

5. Most people who hear your news will not respond at all.

There’s nothing that will make you feel quite so unhinged after you’ve just explained to someone that your loved one has died as a big, awkward pause. An absolute nothingness. No acknowledgement. No sign of emotion from the recipient of the news.

Sometimes you might repeat yourself, just to be sure they’ve heard you. They did. If this happens, gently remind them that you like it when (delete as appropriate) people just say anything at all/people say, “I’m sorry for your loss”/people say, “I’m here for you and I’m listening."

6. Many people will say many inappropriate things, including you.

See point 4. Responses can vary. People come out with ridiculous things when they are experiencing discomfort. That means you will, too. Particularly if someone else dies not long after your loved one.

Your ability to think before you speak often goes out the window, (although you have a pretty good excuse) and other people will likely have so much discomfort around death and dying they will come out with some weird and wonderful things.

“We’re all going to die anyway,” is a good one…

7. You will experience anxiety like you have never experienced it before.

Anxiety around dying or your loved ones dying will keep you up into the small hours of the morning. It will occupy your thoughts during the day. You might experience anxiety around your diet, if you know someone who died of heart disease, or smoking/being around smokers if you know someone who died of lung cancer.

You might check your breasts religiously. You might worry that small child is walking too close to the road and what if that car mounts the pavement and hits them? You will worry, and that is okay.

8. Grief is exhausting. Grief is constant.

It doesn’t end when you arrive at work at 9 AM. It doesn’t come back when you hop on the bus at the end of the day. It doesn’t disappear just because you’re out with your favourite group of people for a meal or a few drinks.

It doesn’t just magically return the moment you look at a photo of your loved one. Grief is with you, all day, every day, forever. Anything can trigger it. A bird in a tree. A song you might have hated before but now the words have meaning. Seeing couples or families together.

And it will exhaust you. The knowledge that on some days, grief is a 9-5, and on others, it might hit you at 3 AM when you can’t sleep, is "prop your eyes open with cocktail sticks" exhausting.

9. It can lead to serious social anxiety.

When someone dies it can be hard to have conversations about day to day life, or little chats or catch-ups with friends like you used to. Light conversation can feel very daunting. That can result in feelings of anxiety around socialising—what if you accidentally talk about death at a party, or mention how a song reminds you of your deceased loved one?

It’s completely normal to feel this way, and just remember it’s okay to have heavy conversations. The right people will listen. The right people will stay.

10. Grief will change you, and that is okay, too.

You might not like to do the things you used to do before your loved one died. You might be interested in talking about different things. You might feel so very differently about so many topics than you did before. You might find more enjoyment from simpler things, rather than a busy, hectic life. You might behave differently in social situations, at work, on the train, at a busy bar. You might have forgotten what “normal” feels like, but this is your normal, now.

There’s no right or wrong way to grieve, and on many days, it can feel both isolating and overwhelming. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Don’t hesitate to reach out to someone if you need to talk, whether it be a family member, a friend, a doctor or a bereavement charity.