Grief through science

How a clinical psychologist brakes down bereavement

I recently watched a video that helped me better understand what I’m going through since Mom passed away this summer. The video was about trauma but took an unexpected turn toward grief and bereavement – proof that answers can be found when you least look for them!

George Bonanno, Professor of Clinical Psychology at Columbia, breaks down the process in simple terms. So many of his points mirror my own experience, I thought I would write them down and share them here.

First off, death is bewildering. The person is here one moment, “gone” the next. Gone where? How? No one knows (although many pretend otherwise). The death of a loved one comes as a shock to our brains. It challenges its perception of the world – someone who was part of it is inexplicably no longer in it. It’s also a brutal reminder of our own mortality, this uncomfortable truth we run away from.

Our brain needs to recalibrate to the new paradigm. We need to surmount the vertigo we felt when looking into death’s abyss. And we need to contend with a new reality. We must accept dramatically conflicting truths: we will die one day but for now we are alive, and the person we love is no longer here but still in us.

“Bewildering” doesn’t even begin to express it. Our brain has to do Cirque du Soleil-level acrobatics to maintain its balance. No wonder some people fall.

Prof. Bonanno was critical of the so-called Five Stages of Grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). He explained they were first theorized for people facing their own death. Only later were they expanded to everyone confronted by loss.

Truth be told, they never made sense to me. I intuitively knew we all grieve in our own way. Even people close to dying will have their own process depending on their beliefs; how they judge the life they had; where, when, and how they die…

The Five Stages are too neat a checklist, and are not backed up either by science or empirical evidence. The danger lies in a rigid lecture of this framework. When people think they haven’t checked all the boxes, or not in the right order, they cannot conceive they reached acceptance, even if they have. They second-guess where they stand on the grief ladder, clinging to an ill-fitting roadmap and not trusting their own perception.

The truth is that some people never get over it, others “move on” seemingly effortlessly, while the majority trundle along for a while.

One fascinating tidbit was learning that visual or auditory hallucinations are a completely natural part of the grieving process. Case in point, I thought I saw our friend Edwin walk around Bordeaux for months after his passing. I knew it couldn’t be him, but it didn’t stop me from seeing him everywhere. That’s because my brain hadn’t yet reconciled with the new reality.

Edwin was no longer here in the world, but he was still here in my mind. Trying to make sense of it, my brain ended up hallucinating. I was not going crazy – synapses and grey matter just hit some hiccups while working overtime, that’s all.

Another comforting thing I learned is that going inward is perfectly natural. It, in fact, makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint. Sadness distracts us, making us more vulnerable out in the world. It’s therefore safer to stay home, curled up on your couch, under a blanket (my spot of choice).

We go inward and every so often outward, connecting with others, then back inward with our thoughts, memories, and mental acrobatics. Little by little, we spend less time in, more time out, until we’re back in the world, fully engaged again.

I can attest to that back and forth. I’ve been spending a lot of time alone, carefully measuring my interactions before retreating under my blanket (metaphorically or not). I’ve been lucky to have the time and space to do it, with no pressing deadlines or inescapable commitments to force me out when I don’t feel up to it. I recently started spending more time with friends, even if just on the phone, bundled up in my blanket. Progress is incremental, but is progress, nonetheless.

Not letting anger overcome me has proven challenging. Anger at the hospital for failing us; at mom for ignoring earlier alarms from her doctor; at myself for not doing enough, not saying enough, not understanding enough… I know I did all I could and then some, but it doesn’t stop me from fighting with myself. Prof. B explains anger can be useful as long as we keep it in check, and I will. It will not consume me, nor will regrets.

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Professor Boanno recommended a few ways to cope, backed up by observations in the field and his own experience:

- Exercise, good sleep hygiene, balanced meals, getting out in the world, yadi yadi yada... I don’t do much of this yet, so next!

- Talking to a shrink helps, especially telling the story of the last months or days, from beginning to end, in detail. Verbalizing what happened grounds us in our new reality, helps us confront regrets and anger, and to understand where we stand in the larger story.

- Reviewing what the person meant to us, what they brought to our lives, and what we can do ourselves to fill the void they left. The grieving process (and the time it takes) helps us formalize our bond to the departed.

Like mourning ceremonies during which people reminisce and share stories, this is the moment to remember, focus our memories, and consolidate a narrative. Better make sure we do it right! Better make sure we dig if needed and deconstruct false beliefs (when you got lost in a London supermarket at age 10, your parents didn’t abandon you, you just got lost, it’s OK – and if that example is oddly specific, it’s because it did happen to me. And as I explained then, “People couldn’t understand me because I was crying in French!” Kids say the darnest things, don’t they?).

- Lastly and importantly, we need to nurture the bond we have with the deceased. After all, they still live in our minds. Writing them letters or talking to them helps lessen their absence.

That one is going to be difficult for rational, Cartesian me. I’m not into burning sage or placing clusters of crystals on energy fields in my home. But, since a scientist recommended it, I’ll give it a go and report back.

Ultimately, I know Mom would not have wanted me to fall apart because of her.

Step by step, I’m getting through this, like most of us do.