Loss Compounded

At some point, we all experience it--the loss of a family member or a dear friend.  While the relationships were different and the sense of loss is never the same, what is constant is the hole that the loss creates in our lives and our hearts.  A relative, a beloved friend, a long-time valued coworker is gone.  Unless someone has held a similar relationship status to the departed (e.g., a sibling, another coworker), it may be difficult for others to deeply empathize with your intense pain and bewilderment about your loss.

At such times, typically family and friends rally around us and support us with words of comfort and tangible expressions of caring.  How many times do we hear "I'm so sorry for your loss" and how many casseroles are dropped off at our homes?  This may continue for two to three weeks, sometimes a bit longer.  Then, gradually, the phone calls and the visits taper off.  While it may not explicitly be said, we're expected to "get back to normal".  This is to a large extent for the benefit of those around us.  We may, for some indeterminate period of time, continue to have days where we feel we can't possibly function.  But others don't want to get so mired in our pain and misery that they can't function, either.

This can feel like people have stopped caring.  To some extent, this is true.  Your loss is not their loss, and their primary connection to the deceased may be you.  They may not have been close to the person who passed away, but they're close to you.  You will continue to struggle with the range of feelings the death engendered in you--shock, deep sorrow, abandonment, even anger at the deceased for leaving us.  When working with bereaved clients, I often get questions about the "normal" course of grief.  "Am I crazy for feeling this way?"  "How long will I feel this way?"  "Is this normal?"  The answer to this last question, to be addressed in a future post, is that, when it comes to grief, there really is no "normal".

These feelings, coupled with the gradual withdrawal of support from those in our social network, can result in what I call a "compound loss".  You've not only lost someone who played an important emotional role in your life, but, over time, the support and expressions of concern from others begin to dwindle.  At this point, it may be useful to locate a psychologist or other mental health professional who can offer an objective, value-neutral setting in which to air your feelings about your loss and the level of support which you've received from those closest to you.  This kind of relationship can provide the opportunity to process your loss and its impact on you, without the pressure of needing to "get over it" within a certain time frame.