Grieving mode
Hey friends. It’s been a long while.
No news is sometimes good news. But sometimes no news is actually sad news.
Two nights ago, Michelle Obama delivered an electrifying speech at the Democratic National Convention. "I am the only person stupid enough to speak after Michelle Obama," said former President Barack Obama. Here’s what stood out to me the most. She performed at the highest level even while grieving the passing of her mother.
In stark contrast, I've been hiding under my shell. You haven’t heard from me since April. It’s because I’ve been in grieving mode, too, but I haven’t had much to say. My mom’s memory – as mother, wife, and chief champion of me going out there and figuring it out – despite the barriers naturally and humanly set before me – is too important to put into a few words in a newsletter. I have bigger plans for keeping her memory alive. But I thought I’d let you know about my radio silence since the last edition of TEXTURE.
This time has gotten me thinking about a lot of things, and I’ve had the freedom as a freelance writer and editor to spend some time letting myself go through the stages of grief in as healthy a manner as possible. I have a way to go still.
This is going to take a while
When you have a headache, you take acetaminophen, ibuprofen, or something else to relieve your pain. Sometimes it’s just a headache. Sometimes a headache could be a sign of a larger health issue, especially if it lasts for many days. A pill may offer relief for the symptom (the headache) for a period, but eventually, you’ll have to try to treat the cause (whatever that may be) if the headache persists. Otherwise, you’ll continue getting headaches.
When it comes to grief, some claim that time is the pill. As they say, “Time heals all wounds.” But who says that? Probably someone (with good intentions) who hasn’t been through the grieving process. Grief comes on strong and can last for a short amount of time, while the grieving process can be long.
I like how Mary-Frances O’Connor, PhD, professor of clinical psychology and psychiatry at the University of Arizona explained it in a Speaking of Psychology podcast: “Grief really is that feeling that you have, the sort of intensity that just overwhelms you, and that sort of momentary experience. Grieving, on the other hand, is the way that grief changes over time without ever actually going away.”
Accepting my condition, I determined to at least treat the symptom to get back to work as soon as possible.
Treating the symptom rather than the cause
Symptoms of grief can vary. One of mine was a serious case of writer’s block. Writer’s block can be described as the inability to produce new work or a period when you’re experiencing a creative slowdown. Reasons for writer’s block include perfectionism, fear of failure, apathy, anger, anxiety, and grief. Writer’s block may last anywhere from a few days to years.
I just haven’t had the heart to write about things. I didn’t read much either. Writer’s block is inevitable for those of us who make a living off the written word. This time around, though, it was different. The brain region responsible for the “aha” or “eureka” moments refused to collaborate with the region of the brain responsible for deliberate thought – the former is quicker than the latter. Creative ideas are born when these two brain systems work together. But my brain seemed stuck. Ideas kept fluttering away, blown far away by the winds of sadness into an abandoned vault located who knows where.
So, I looked for ways to treat the symptoms of writer’s block. Here are some things that helped me:
1. Self-critique to get better, but maybe not during the most intense moments of grief.
I experienced plenty of depressive episodes, and it particularly impacted my ability to write … anything. Research has shown that expressive writing can be a tool for healing. But there I was, looking at blank pages for minutes, then hours, without ever writing a word. And when I wrote something down, I eventually deleted it.
Deleting what you write is part of the process of self-criticism. It is a normal practice for writers. If we don’t critique our own work, believe me, someone else will. So, we must be our own biggest critics. But this was different – I simply had no words, and the words I did pen down, I thought, were utter garbage and useless.
To try to break through the pollution of negative thoughts, instead of writing on a blank Word document, I chatted with PI, a generative AI tool that can help in times like these. PI doesn’t replace mental health professionals, but it can offer some respite to a mind deluged with questions and an overwhelming lack of answers – even at 3 a.m. And it doesn’t critique your writing like you would yourself. Writing my thoughts using PI helped me move forward … a little bit.
2. Do something else.
I took time off as long as I could afford to. I’ve been back to being busy (maybe too busy) for the last three months. Being self-employed means that you are constantly on the lookout for new ways to generate revenue. Diversifying my work allowed me to do that. As I struggled with putting words to paper, I focused on other tasks, like managing editorial projects or creating new spreadsheets to plan for upcoming projects or just for fun (Yes, I’m a creative who loves spreadsheets!). These non-writing activities allowed me some space and time to help get my writing groove back. I also took random walks in nature, specifically a place called the Celery Farm. Research shows that walking in nature can be a pathway for improved mental health.
I met this not-so-little guy on an easy hike at the Celery Farm, a nature preserve in Northern New Jersey. Research shows that walking in nature can be a pathway for improved mental health.
3. Realize that everyone has a different clock.
Businesses I work with were excellent at showing empathy during this time, and understanding why I had to turn down assignments. At one point, I had agreed to take on a writing assignment, then asked for it to be given to someone else. I apologized, of course. I pride myself on getting the work done, always. And it’s rare that I say no to work. No apologies necessary and take all the time you need, they said.
Despite the undefined timeframe for my bereavement, I knew I had to get back to work. But I couldn’t fathom the possibility of returning to work so quickly and pretending that everything was all right. But everyone deals with grief differently. Some family members wanted to get back to work because it kept their minds busy on other things. I could see how that could work, providing a sense of routine which can have a calming effect.
Seeking out relief
Grief is a personal experience, so your way of dealing with it may differ from mine. What I can say for sure is that moments of grief can be affixed to instances of relief (like good memories) if you allow it. I found relief in my faith, my family, and in seeing that this world, cruel and beautiful as it is, could not hold my mom any longer. Though I wish she had more time here, she rests in a better place outside of the reach of scientific explanation – some things are better left that way.
I’m relieved that she’s no longer in pain. I’m relieved that I can now say that I miss my mom dearly, and smile at her memory.
Thank you for reading. Until next time.