“Call It Deep Grief”
Dear Nicholas, I’ve learned that sadness and loss can make a person temporarily “stupid.” Not just for hours but for much longer. I thought I was the only one and that I was being weird to react this way. This time I have discovered that “stupid” happens to lots of people who are mourning. I’ve called the mistakes I’ve made this time “incompetence.” My retired psychologist husband, Bob Dick, suggested that instead I call them deep grief.
It does feel better to think of this experience as deep grief.
A Curious Reaction
A few weeks ago a dear friend of forty-plus years, Laurel Goldman, died. It was not a surprise. She had been sick for a long time.
But it is a big, big loss.
I immediately began making lots of mistakes, the kind that can be high-impact, dangerous and expensive.
Two Examples
I lost my phone in a grocery store parking lot. It was in my lap when I got out of the car and I didn’t notice it clunking to the pavement. I was lucky; someone found it and turned it in.
Much scarier, I decided to tidy up ailing husband Bob’s bottles of medication. The next day, I discovered I had poured into one container two different dosages of one prescription and another entirely different kind, all three of which were small and white. If I hadn’t figured out the problem and sorted them, he would have missed important meds. I was shaken by what I’d done. (His health is also playing a big part in my current state of mind or no-mind.)
Not The First Time
A few days after my father, Harry Payne, died many years ago, I drove my car over a small wall. It was in a parking lot and I thought it was a speed bump. The car got halfway over and stopped, like a beached ship, had to be hoisted off the wall by a rescue truck. It was my third big screw-up of that day.
Not Just Me
This time, I complained to friends. Novelist Angela Davis-Gardner told me she’d heard that grief can “make people stupid.” Psychologist Joe Burgo said, “It makes sense. It’s dissociation.”
Madame Google pointed out with lots of websites that lots of people react this way, that it’s essentially disconnecting from the present painful moment.
Okay, now I understand. And I want it to stop before someone gets hurt.
Three Tactics
“The Savvy Psychologist” Jade Wu suggests three kinds of activity that can help.
1. concentrate on the breath (Bob feels strongly that this helps with almost everything)
2. focus on a sensory experience in the moment, a sight, smell, sensation…
3. keep a small object handy that’s a reminder to stay in the present
What Didn’t Work
I had tried repeating in my mind the word “mindful”, like a mantra. Zoned me out even more. Won’t do that again.
And Now…
I mean to try out Number Two: telling myself what I’m seeing or hearing in the moment. Being zoned out no doubt feels better than sharp pain. But it likely just delays grief. Also I don’t want to drive into any more walls.
Peggy
Categories: Uncategorized
Tags: Angela Davis-Gardner, Bob Dick, disconnecting from the present, dissociation, grief can make people stupid, jade wu, Joe Burgo, making lots of mistakes, people who are mourning, reminder to stay in the present, sadness and loss, savvy psychologist
Comments
I lost my husband of 56 years 3 months ago and can testify that grief invades every tissue, cell and organ in the body. There is some scientific evidence that the brain changes neuronally, trying to readjust to the loss and rewire itself. But I m convinced that as this is happening, we experience an unfamiliar craziness that is very dislocating and we do really upsetting things. I am hoping that this gets better with time.
Gail, I’m so sorry (and Bob is too). That’s a monstrous loss. For quite a while after my father’s death, my mother kept telling us that she had brain damage. It did get better, seemed to go away entirely.I don’t remember how long it took. I hope yours goes away soon.
♥️
Peggy, I’m sorry and I understand. I wear a necklace with my mother’s thumbprint and handwriting. I carry a chestnut in my pocket. So smooth and hard and clenchable, fits perfectly in my palm. These things don’t take the stupid away but they are calming.
The necklace and the chestnut sound so soothing, Kim. I’m glad you have them. Not getting agitated would for me be a big step toward getting rid of the stupid.
Peggy, I’m sorry for all your losses but sad myself to learn that Laurel died. It has been years since I was in touch with her but she was such a powerhouse and a formative teacher in my writing life. For your sensory technique, I teach all my clients 54321 as a grounding exercise: notice 5 things you see, 4 you hear, 3 you feel viscerally on/in your body, 2 you smell, 1 you taste. If smell and taste seem neutral think of favorite or “big” tastes and smells that elicit sensory responses, like thinking of biting into a lemon, etc. This is a powerful exercise that always gets good reviews from clients. Take good care. One day we will make lunch happen!
She was definitely a powerhouse. And I love your 54321 method. I’m thinking it might be helpful for getting to sleep.
Thank you, Peggy, for sharing these most intimate and universal insights.
Thanks, Marie. It’s a relief to me to know that this experience is universal.
I hear you, Peggy; I’m here. I hope my reading of your post about some “big mistakes” that seem to have followed on your grief will serve to prepare me if and when deep grief comes my own way. Bless you!
I hope so, Morris. I do write these things hopping to be helpful.
Peggy, thank you for hopping to it!
Peggy, my get to sleep method (not necessarily what I teach clients though) is to go through every room in my house in my mind listing the “repairs” that need to be done. Not design/visual/fun stuff but the very boring “place on the ceiling that needs retaping, painting, etc.” I never make it beyond one room – it is so boring! 🙂
What an interesting idea for getting bored to sleep, Billie! I’ll try it. Thank you!
As a two year widow after 58.6 years of marriage, I can definitely attest to brain fog since Jim died. I think it has gotten better lately, but I recently lost two very good school friends, and the fog has returned somewhat. I know it will get better for all who have suffered great loss…even though it seems to take forever. I hope th3 process speeds up for you, Peggy!
That 58.6 is a lot o years, Judy. I’m glad the brain fog has gotten better for you and that this recurrence ends soon.
It’s been ME for so long, shortly before, and after Mama died. I started telling people to expect it from me for a while. I also very much wanted this feeling of inadequacy to go away before someone got hurt – maybe even me? Inadequacy to remember, start, and complete tasks I’d always done so well and easily (I thought). Losing my way (missing my exit) repeatedly while attempting to drive from the vet’s office, after dropping off the dogs, to the hospital, where Mama was; a trip that should have taken me 5 minutes turned into 30.
Thank you for putting your lovely words to the task of explaining this weirdness in a way that so many of us can identify with. <3
Oh, so many missed exits. That one’s familiar. I have to say I’m happy to have company in this weirdness. It’s too weird to have to do alone. May you be safe in your travels, Sara. And again I’m so sorry about your loss of your mother.