Grief & Work: Balancing Loss & Content Writing

At the address vztahovaporadna@firma.seznam.cz came the following query:

Hello, my friend died four days before Christmas. We were friends for 30 years. We knew everything about each other, we were each other’s support. Her death hit me hard and I still haven’t come to terms with it. I still think about her and can’t believe she’s gone. I don’t have anyone else like that, just acquaintances from work and the like. I miss her so much. I will never meet anyone like that again. It bothers me a lot. How to deal with it? Margaret

Dear Markéta, what you describe is true loss in its purest and cruelest form. Someone has not left the edge of your life, but a person who has been a part of it for so long that you may not even have noticed where she ends and where you begin.

Thirty years of life together. This is something that is hard to describe in words. She was your memory, a witness to your transformations, someone who knew the old versions of you, the flawed versions of you, and yet remained.

When a friend like that suddenly dies, the world doesn’t come crashing down loudly. It falls apart quietly. In the little things. In the thought that you no longer have anyone to write to. In a sentence that you prepare in your head and only then realize that they won’t hear it again.

That you “can’t believe it” is very important information. It doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. It means that your inner world has not yet had time to understand what happened. Reason knows it. Emotions say something else. And now there is a rift between these two worlds where you feel lost. The death of a loved one is not an event that takes place in one second. On the contrary: It’s a process. Long, winding and above all very unfair. One day you feel like you can handle it, the next day you are suddenly overwhelmed by complete banality. It must be said that when this happens, it is not a step back. That’s just what grieving looks like.

You may be trying to consciously control your feelings. You say to yourself “it’s been a while”, “I should put up with it” or “others can handle it”. But grieving doesn’t work on command. It cannot be sped up, bypassed or “worked off”. The more you push yourself, the longer the pain will speak. Unfortunately, grief needs space. When we lock him in the basement, he starts banging on the ceiling.

You write that you don’t have anyone else like that anymore. This is, of course, another painful layer of the whole situation. Not only did you lose her, but with her the sense of security that “there is someone out there,” someone who serves as a kind of pillar of support in the universe. Suddenly you are alone with things you never had to carry alone. And in this state, it’s completely natural to think: “I’ll never meet someone like that again.” This sentence is often reflected in the head of people who have lost something really valuable. But be careful, it must be realized that this is not a prediction of the future. It is purely a description of the current pain.

Of course, you will never meet the same friend again. It doesn’t work. That relationship was unique and irreplaceable. But your ability to form a fulfilling relationship with someone close to you didn’t disappear with her passing. She’s just damaged, tired, and shut down now. Leave her alone. Allow yourself to be vulnerable for a moment during this time. Of course you are not well, but accept that the parting ritual will take a while.

You can help yourself in other ways during your silent farewell. You can maintain a relationship with your friend in your own way. Otherwise. You can talk to her in your mind. Write in a notebook what you would say to her. Remembering the things that annoyed you. Death does not end a relationship. It only terminates one of his forms. The inner one often remains very alive.

(Let go great animated film Coco. There the deceased live contented and happy in their new world. Until someone alive remembers them.)

And if you feel that it is too much for you, there is no weakness in seeking help. Whether it’s a therapist, a support group, or even just one person to whom you can tell the whole truth instead of a polite “I’m getting by.” Just don’t be afraid to “rant” (to someone you trust). Take away the burden you carry inside and it weighs about a ton now.

One day (and now take this really only as information, not as a task) the moment will come when you will remember your friend and find that it hurts less. Like a scar that you know is there but is now just a memory. Then you may realize that the relationship has moved you terribly. That thanks to him you can live “close” with someone, you are not afraid to trust and have no problem sharing. And that this is something that no one can take away from you.

Now try to hold on. Day after day. Sadness is not a sign of weakness. It is a proof of love. And the one you and your friend had, according to what you write, was really worth it.