Grief

Losing Mom, and coping with Craig's illness, has me thinking about grief, and in particular, the five stages of grief.  Experts point to denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance to help frame feelings and emotions that people may experience after a loss.  Granted, the five stages are controversial, at best, but, given that they’ve been bandied about by grief counselors and others to help people cope with loss, they serve as a useful starting point for a lively discussion. 

The five stages of grief were first developed by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross to describe emotions associated with one’s own death, and were later expanded to apply to the emotions survivors may experience after a loss.  Critics argue that her stages were rigidly applied beyond Kubler-Ross’ original intention and taken out of context.  They further argue that there’s no empirical foundation for Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief.  Regardless, the stages of grief remain popular for explaining, well, grief.  Some have expanded the stages to include “pain and guilt,” “an upward turn,” and “reconstruction and working through” as additional stages.  And as they say, not all will experience these five stages, nor are they time oriented or sequential; people may traverse the wide spectrum of emotions multiple times, skip stages, or overlap. 

In reflecting on these stages, I suppose they serve as helpful starting points for recognizing the wide array of emotions one feels when coping with loss.  A more cynical response would tell Kubler-Ross et al to shove it (I suppose that would mean I’m temporarily in the anger stage).  To be honest, I feel the stages of grief are more used by psychologists and counselors to try to help someone work through difficult times then they are used by the actual “griever.” 

Curious to know the family’s feelings on the matter, I asked them to share their thoughts on the five stages of grief.  The common response was “yeah, yeah, yeah.”  While Dad argued against the empirical evidence for supporting the stages of grief, Diane and Emily felt they were too limiting. Diane put it well:  “The stages of grief take away the freedom and originality of experiencing grief.”  Emily added that people should be allowed to “deal with grief as a unique manifestation of their emotions, and shouldn’t be confined to boxes.”  Though for some, it’s useful to know “you’re not alone,” my perspective is rather of feeling handled and slightly invalidated.  It’s like giving “grievers” tacit approval for experiencing what they’re experiencing -- as if by identifying the stage of emotion, one suddenly feels “normal” -- while reminding the griever that what they are feeling is completely unoriginal.  Chiming in, Erin said the stages were helpful in that there is some level of commonality and predictability for people experiencing loss, but that the stages and emotions should be construed as “fluid.”  

Craig agreed.  He added that he feels like he confronts most of the stages – except depression and bargaining – almost daily and often multiple times.  Ultimately, he doesn’t find the stages helpful, but added that he tries to remain mellow or calm, which may be in line with acceptance.   For Craig, his philosophy is more useful for dealing with cancer, dying, and grief.  He said what was missing from the list was “distraction.”  He tries to keep himself distracted from thinking about where he is.  (To me, distraction is different from denial, and can be a healthy way of coping.)

My chief complaint is why must everything seem so dire?  Where does “happiness” fit in, or “humor”?  The five stages give the impression that people experiencing grief sit around drumming their fingers all day.  Perhaps we’ll be slammed with “denial” or “anger” or “depression” in the months to come, but so far, I see my family taking each day as they come, and laughing through the moments.  I’m still happy in all this sadness.  But could saying this be construed as denial???  What if a person does not encounter one or all of the stages?  Is something, then, wrong with the person?  Should they be fearful of possibly suppressing anger only for it to erupt in some incident to be aired on the evening news? 

And how do these stages apply to multiple losses?  Diane and I thumbed through Kubler-Ross’ second book On Grief and Grieving while waiting for Craig to get his second Hickman inserted.  We recognized familiar chapters on anger, depression, grieving a spouse, etc. but, surprisingly, nothing on grieving multiple losses that were not accident-related.  The chapter that touched on multiple losses referred to a car accident where several members of one family perished.  Kubler-Ross seemed to pass by instances of multiple grief not brought on by tragic accidents. 

Compounded grief, or grieving loss back-to-back, takes on a different form, especially if loss is due to cancer.  Cancer takes absolutely everything, and in the wake, leaves only a mound of sharp lines and crooked edges from which to shape some semblance of understanding.  To live through one death from cancer is difficult; to live through another so soon after the first is inhumane.  How does one stay strong for two people simultaneously, and after a death, how does one honor, in our case, Mom, while being there for Craig?  Compounded grief skews the timing of loss of things. 

And what of the grief of the person going through it?  I remember a time when Mom said to Diane one morning "I don't know how you can sit here and look at me without crying."  I remember her wondering what would be the outcome of her life, all the while worrying about Craig and his illness. What of her grief?  What about her sense of powerlessness to help Craig?  What about her feelings of hope, anxiety, and sadness associated with a terminal prognosis?  Or Craig's fear?  Or of exhaustion, despair, guilt and dread of possibly going through another dying process so soon after saying goodbye to a loved one?  What about patience? I remember a time not so long ago when Craig asked to get up after the third attempt trying to put him to bed.  I looked at Erin and in a joking voice mumbled “Craig Kennedy Lawler, for the love of Christ, find a resting spot.” 

If it’s true that the five stages are not exhaustive, and are merely jumping off points for a broader analysis of how one is coping, then what’s the harm in jotting down a few more stages?  How about “getting on with it;" or “not every waking moment is spent focusing on loss;" or “I’m genuinely happy and not in denial so knock it off with the doubting Thomas expression;" or “I’m angry but not everything has to be couched in grief terms, so cut it with the psychoanalysis B.S.?"  How about hysteria; agitation; rage; annoyance; gallows humor; alcoholism; sniffing blue paint; passing gas; uncomfortable moments of silence; sexual promiscuity/susceptible to peer pressure/rebound relationships/I can’t hold a job four-for-one special stage, etc. (Not all of which, or any actually, we are experiencing, mind you).

I suppose my frustration with the stages of grief stems from an overall feeling of being handled.  'To be' isn't good enough; it has to be defined and neatly wrapped in psychological concepts that are so transient, so fleeting in their time and nature, to warrant little meaning.  Rarely do my emotions linger long enough for me to define them.  What matters is honoring the whole lot of emotions that come with profound loss, and giving people the space to truly experience grief as a manifestation of their unique situation.  After all, as Erin says, "stages of grief show most definition in hindsight. Who says, I'm in the denial stage when actually in denial? Wouldn't that be contradictory?" For me, grief is personal.  The last thing we need is to feel preached to about some archaic notion of what experts consider normal stages of grief.  That might swing me back into anger. ;) -- J 

(This isn't to say that we have been preached to.  This rant is derived more from our prior knowledge of the stages of grief and psychology backgrounds.  Plus, sometimes it's just fun to gripe.  Heck, there's another stage.)