The pain we feel
Grief, time, and learning to live with loss
An illustration of two boys skipping rocks. // Illustration by Julia Vreeman
TW: Discussion of Suicide and Mental Health
Two pairs of hands sift through a scattered collection of pebbles in a hurry, searching for anything smooth enough to ricochet off the glassy surface of the brisk lake water. The two friends — no more than 10 years old — find a few pebbles smooth enough to skip. They sink their legs knee-deep into the water which gently tugs against the shoreline.
The first boy, tall and scraggly with crimson-rimmed rectangular glasses, pitches one of his pebbles at the glistening lake water with the grace of a heavy-footed ballerina.
Splosh.
No skips.
I — a much shorter boy with sandy blond hair — pick out the smoothest pebble from my new pile. Flicking my wrist with the speed of a scared gazelle, I released the pebble.
One, two, three… four. Four skips!
I glance over at my friend hoping to see a look of disappointment on his face. Instead, he’s bent over in the other direction, picking up a rock the size of a dinner plate. Taking a running start, he hurls the large rock at the lake water.
The large rock bounces off the surface of the water, creating a large wake.
One skip.
Surprised by the skip, my friend turned to me, smiling from ear to ear. He gloats that a single skip with the massive rock was worth eight skips with a pebble.
That was the last time we ever skipped rocks together.
Fast forward to the summer after our sophomore year, we’re both 16 years old. I didn’t see my friend as often as I once did, but that didn’t get in the way of our friendship. We would still play video games or hang out when we had time.
One evening, at the beginning of the summer, I was sitting on my bed wondering what my friend was doing. I checked my phone and was met with a notification that said my friend was missing.
The following day I rushed down to my kitchen to check and see if my friend had been found. My parents told me that he had taken his life.
****
Losing someone close to me hurts; it is a pain that is nearly indescribable. Unlike a physical wound, where I can identify the area the pain is coming from, losing someone you love cannot be traced to one spot. It’s confusing and all-consuming and the pain can be experienced for a long period of time. There is no “normal” amount of time for grieving.
Grief is a universal experience. It’s a form of learning that teaches you how to be in the world without someone you love, Mary-Frances O’Connor, associate professor of psychology at the University of Arizona, said in an interview with NPR.
Grief is a natural process, it’s hard to experience grief as a young person because we often lack the words to describe the pain we are going through.
Grief is the hurt that you feel after you lose someone or something close to your heart. It’s love without a destination, as noted by author Jamie Anderson. It’s important to understand that no one experiences loss in the same way, and that’s okay. I realize this experience is tragically common for young people.
By the end of high school, 20% of teenagers will have experienced the death of someone close to them. This number has been on the rise for the past decade, making suicide the third leading cause of death for those 10 to 24 years old.
The stages of the grief model, created by psychologist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, helps to better understand the pain people may deal with after experiencing the death of a loved one. It should be noted that, if you’re grieving, it’s okay to not know which stage you fall into. Some may even go back and forth between stages.
Here are some guidelines for understanding grief:
Shock: The “numb” feeling meant to protect your brain from becoming overwhelmed with emotions.
Not all shock is the same. When I was in shock, I felt like I was unable to accept the reality of the situation and didn’t know what to feel. But, it’s normal to be confused by your emotions like I was.
Denial: Saying you feel “fine” because, despite the reality, you consciously or unconsciously refuse the facts of the situation, especially involving a loved one’s death.
I didn’t believe that my friend was gone. I kept telling myself that he ran away in order to avoid the reality of the situation. For me, it took time to accept the reality that my friend was gone.
Guilt: Thinking it’s “all your fault.” This is the should’ve, could’ve, would’ve feelings and ideas you may get after the loss of a loved one. It’s human nature to think these things. But by thinking these thoughts, not only is there no answer, but there’s an infinite number of possibilities with no actual answer which is no real help.
I could’ve reached out to my friend earlier, or I should’ve known how they were feeling. These thoughts still appear in my head at times, though less frequently now.
Sadness: Like most people, it is very likely you will feel sadness after the loss of a loved one. The hard part is learning to accept those sad memories while also remembering the happy ones.
All I could think about was how sad I was that I would never see my friend again. I’m still sad. I know that this sadness never truly goes away, but it’s easier now for me to look back at all the happy memories we shared together.
Anger: Asking, “How could they do this” or “Why didn’t I know?” You may feel like you’ve been abandoned by a loved one after a tragedy, and it’s okay to feel angry. You can be angry and still love someone at the same time.
I was angry at myself for not knowing how my friend had been feeling and I was frustrated that the world would allow such a tragedy to happen.
Acceptance: Knowing that you can continue living while missing your loved one. Acceptance is not forgetting. Acceptance is simply learning to live while always remembering your loved one.
I feel like I’ve reached a small kind of acceptance. There’s still a lot that is hard for me to accept, but time has made me realize that I will always have my friend with me in my memories. They have made a deep impact on me that will always remain, and I’m grateful for the time we spent together.
When someone you know is going through grief, it’s not about trying to make them feel better. It’s more about listening to that person, understanding where they are in their learning, and meeting them halfway.
The stages of grief can help with understanding how people come to terms with loss, but it’s important to remember that everyone’s experience with grief is different. Grief is more complex than categories. Our brains and emotions are complex things that are difficult to understand, and the loss of someone important leaves a void that is hard to make sense of.
The word “relationship” implies two people, and after a loss, our brain has a hard time understanding that the “we” in a relationship is no longer full. So, when you say, “It feels like I’ve lost a part of myself,” it truly feels that way because your brain is wired that way. Grief is a long process and can pop up at random times, especially on significant days like a birthday.
I think that experiencing loss teaches us that time is valuable and the moments we share with our loved ones are irreplaceable. Life is precious, memories are precious, and people are precious because they’re not here forever. However, death can never take away the memories you have of them. Memories allow you to have your loved ones close to you at all times.
****
Resources
Call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org to reach the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline crisis workers are there to support you and are available 24/7.
National Alliance on Mental Illness Washington: https://www.namiwa.org/
The Crisis Textline: text SAVE to 741741. It’s free, available 24/7, and confidential.
WWU Crisis Emergency Services: 360–650–3164
WWU Counseling and Wellness Center: https://cwc.wwu.edu/