“Just give it time” or “time heals all pain” are common platitudes, offered in desperation to support someone who is floundering in the grief after losing an integral part of their family. One of the most damaging myths about grief is that time will somehow magically heal it.
Time heals nothing. Let me repeat myself, time heals absolutely nothing. It is what we do with that time that will determine if we move through our grief, or get stuck inside it.
In my life, I have witnessed loved ones who become completely stuck in a constant state of grief; always trying to avoid feeling anything that feels scary or uncomfortable. Unconsciously choosing to spend their days living as a shell of their former self, the self they were before the loss. This is what can happen when you operate in the belief that time heals all wounds. Hoping that you will wake up some day, one day, and feel better. On the contrary, postponing grief does not eliminate grief. Grief will always be waiting for you.
Unprocessed grief is like compounding interest on a significant investment account. It grows, exponentially with time, getting bigger and bigger, the longer we leave it untouched.
Stages? More Like a Tornado
Another misconception that can interfere with the natural human grieving process is that there are stages of grief that we will experience in a tidy, linear fashion. This was a concept popularized when Elizabeth Kubler-Ross wrote On Death and Dying, in 1969. The five stages of grief identified by Kubler-Ross are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The issue is that Kubler-Ross published this model of the emotional process in the context of people who are dying, not people who are grieving the death of someone. Soon after publication of her book this staged approach was widely accepted to offer structure to the process of grieving in general, but it was never intended to be used that way.
Modern research has shown that there is no structure to grieving a loss, and the variety of feelings that accompany a significant loss can be wild and unbridled. A person will often experience strong emotions, sometimes opposing emotions, at an unrelenting pace. The intensity of these emotions and the ability to cope with them is then made much harder by the self-judgement or shame that is felt when we realize we aren’t following the staged approach that our society has come to accept as normal and healthy.
When it comes to grieving: everything and anything is normal. Not having the energy to get out of bed is normal. Not wanting to do something you once considered enjoyable is normal. Feeling guilty for having fun is normal. Regret is normal. Relief is normal. Anger is normal. Losing your cool because someone cut in front of you in the grocery store line is normal when you are overwhelmed with grief.
Slowly Finding My Way Through
In 2024, I lost a piece of my heart and soul: my cat Tango. He was 11 years old when he suddenly passed away yet he always felt like my baby; it didn’t matter how old he was. My emotions are still all over the place – one moment I feel like I might be ok, and the next, I am crying from the shock of it all. I see his favorite spot to lay in the sun and I crumble like a stale cookie. Sometimes I take my own breath away when I think about how I will never get to stare into his beautiful blue eyes again. The waves of emotions are unrelenting and constant. I am exhausted despite the countless hours that I sleep. And I am constantly hoping that upon waking, I will realize that this was all a terrible nightmare and my baby is still here with me.
As you can see from my own experience, there are no stages, it’s more like a bombardment of yuck. In the expanse of an hour, I can feel a sliver of peace and then suddenly despair pops up again, and then ope, here comes anger to join the party. For a sensitive, empathic introvert, this is a nightmare — a revolving door of overwhelm and stimulation, a constant assault to my senses.
Finding Our Way
If there are no stages to grief, how do we come to understand grief and how do we find our way through it?
The answer is simple but it isn’t easy. In fact, it can feel very difficult.
We Find Our Way Through Grief, One Tiny Step at a Time
Sometimes a step might be crying when you need to cry. Reaching out to a friend might be a step. Taking a nap could be a step. Your tiny steps forward will be unique to you – the steps you take will be appropriate to your needs in the moment. How do you determine what tiny step is right? You ask yourself – what do I need in this moment? And then you give yourself what you need. See, it’s simple. But it can feel so hard; it requires presence, patience, and self-compassion. Right now, for me, a step forward might be as simple as drinking a protein shake. I find myself forgetting to eat a lot right now. So when I feel really weak, and notice that I haven’t eaten, I stop and make myself a protein shake, and then I drink it. That’s a tiny step forward, through my grief. When I feel really stuck, I reach for the Biscuit & Bertie Comfort Box that’s on my desk, and I open a card. It sounds simple but my gosh, it really does help. It’s a tiny step forward.
Why Does Grieving Feel So Hard?
We live in a fast paced, results oriented, curative society. We want the Amazon prime same day delivery solution to whatever ails us. But grieving is a process and in our results-obsessed culture, there isn’t much respect paid to a slow or steady process. You may feel rushed by societal pressures, or actual people in your life, to “get over it”, or “move on” already. Recognize these pressures for what they are — a nudge to ignore your needs. You can opt out of this. When it comes to your own grieving journey, go at your own pace and honor your needs. Take little steps forward, steps that honor your needs at any given moment. Most importantly, give yourself permission and acceptance to go slowly and steadily.
The loss of our furry soul companion can often disorient us in such a way that we don’t even know how to take a tiny step, and this is why I created the Biscuit & Bertie Comfort Box. The daily grief support cards are a valuable companion on a person’s journey through grief. They are reminders to be gentle with oneself, they give permission to grieve, ideas for tiny steps to take, and offer understanding in a time when many people feel misunderstood in the uniquely intense grief that follows the loss of a soul animal.
If you are struggling in the aftermath of animal loss, please reach out if I can be of help to you. If someone you love is struggling, send them this blog post to let them know that they aren’t alone. Together, we can normalize the intense and unique grief that accompanies the death of a beloved animal companion, and support people as they journey through it.
Wholeheartedly,
Annie Ballantine
