In the last chapter, we mentioned the fact that society literally teaches us to act recovered. Understanding this aspect of grief is enormously important. A false image of recovery is the most common obstacle all grievers must overcome if they expect to move beyond their loss. Academy award recovery is its name. It could also be called “I’m fine,” or, “Put on your happy face,” or, “Be fine for my family and friends,” or, “I want to help others.” You might sit down and ask yourself how many of these “act-recovered” faces you’re currently using. Most of you already know what we’re talking about.
In the previous chapter, we discussed how those around the griever respond at the time of a loss. We showed that the vast majority of comments a griever hears appeal to the intellect and do not encourage the expression of feelings. Such intellectualizing increases a griever’s sense of isolation and creates a feeling of being judged, evaluated, and criticized. In a relatively short time, the griever discovers that he or she must indeed “act recovered” in order to be treated in an acceptable manner.
In an attempt to be accepted and to look recovered, grievers try to focus on only fond memories. Where incomplete grief is concerned, this is known as “enshrinement.” Enshrinement, in its most damaging form, can include obsessively building memorials to the person who died. This can be demonstrated by keeping large numbers of objects that represent the person. An example is the mother who did not change one item in her daughter’s room although her daughter had been dead for more than five years.
Less critical but equally limiting is the enshrinement that simply doesn’t allow the griever to look accurately at all aspects of the relationship. Many grievers limit their thoughts and feelings to fond memories or positive comments about the deceased. The idea that “you must not speak ill of the dead” is an example of unhelpful information. We do not suggest that anyone run around badmouthing anybody, living or dead. We do suggest that it’s almost impossible to complete the pain caused by death, divorce, or other significant emotional loss without looking at everything about the relationship, not just the positive.
Bedevilment is the opposite of enshrinement. The griever has a litany of complaints detailing a lifetime of mistreatment. They are unwilling to let go of disappointments and anger. With bedevilment, the griever clings to the negatives just as the enshriner clings to the positives, but neither views the entire relationship.
All relationships include both positive and negative interactions. We know that you can complete grief only by being totally honest with yourself and others.
WE WANT THE APPROVAL OF OTHERS
We all like praise and compliments. We all like approval. We all want to be seen as smart, strong, and mature. We all want to feel as if we are part of the group. This need is learned during early childhood and often reinforced to the point of obsession.
Earlier we mentioned that a large percentage of the comments made to grieving people following a loss are not helpful. Grievers are advised to take actions that merely distract or to convert feelings into intellectual ideas. Since approval is such a powerful aspect of our social skills, we try to conform to the ideas suggested to us following a loss.
When John’s infant son died, it tore him apart. What he heard, however, were comments such as:
“You and your wife should be grateful that you can have other children.”
“It was just not meant to be.”
“You’re strong enough to handle it.”
While intellectually all these statements were true, they still didn’t help John to deal with his feelings. John sensed that his friends didn’t want to hear about his feelings. But he didn’t want to be alone. The question was, how could he honestly share his feelings without driving listeners away?
When Russell and his first wife divorced, well-meaning friends said:
“You’ll do better next time.”
“She wasn’t right for you.”
Russell had a normal need to be heard. But those comments stopped him from talking and inadvertently encouraged him to bury his feelings.
John and Russell both wanted the approval of those around them. They were tired of feeling bad, but they did not feel supported by their family and friends in their attempts to feel better. So they opted for academy award recovery. They began to put on their academy award faces even though they were not recovered by any stretch of the imagination. Their performances were so good that they nearly convinced themselves that they were all right when they were not.
Through our work with grievers around the country, we get to see some of the most put-together people on Earth. They look good, they sound good, and they even try to convince us they are feeling good. When we meet people who’ve just experienced a loss, we ask them how they’re doing. Invariably, the answer is the same: “I’m fine.”
When we make speeches to large groups, we often ask how many people like being lied to. Of course, no one raises their hand. Then we ask how many of them have lied about their feelings following sad or painful events. All of the hands go up. It is very sad when you realize that we have been taught to lie about our feelings for fear of being judged or criticized.
The danger of “I’m fine” is that it does not help the broken heart. Saying “I’m fine” merely distracts us and others, while pain and loneliness persist on the inside. The net effect is to create a scab over an infection, leaving a mess underneath.
WE BEGIN TO EXPERIENCE A MASSIVE LOSS OF ENERGY
In talking with thousands and thousands of grievers, we have rarely had a griever argue with us when we say that it sounds like they just don’t have any energy left. Sometimes it is all a griever can do to get out of bed and go through the motions of a day, a week, a month, and eventually a lifetime on automatic pilot, with almost no energy.
Unresolved grief consumes tremendous amounts of energy. Most commonly, the grief stays buried under the surface, and only the symptoms are treated. Many people, including mental health professionals, misunderstand the fact that unresolved loss is cumulative and cumulatively negative.
It is reasonable to suggest that human energy is used most efficiently when our minds and bodies are in harmony. Unresolved grief tends to separate us from ourselves. As an example, how many times have you been driving down the road and then suddenly realized that for the last three blocks you were anywhere but driving the car? You were in your head, having a conversation with someone who was not in the car. And it’s a miracle that you’re still alive. Quite often those phantom conversations are with someone who has died or with a former spouse. More likely than not, these conversations represent an aspect of unfinished emotional business between you and someone else, living or dead. Holding on to incomplete emotions consumes enormous amounts of energy.
WE EXPERIENCE A LOSS OF ALIVENESS
As a direct result of living in the deception of academy award recovery, many people experience a kind of false recovery based on their convincing performance. This can lead to a loss of aliveness and spontaneity that is almost impossible to overcome. Many people fall into a trap of quiet desperation—sometimes feeling good, sometimes feeling bad, but never being able to return to a state of full happiness and joy.
We pay a high price for the incorrect information we have about dealing with loss. Each time a loss is not properly concluded, there is cumulative restriction on our aliveness. Life becomes something to endure; the world seems like a hostile place in which to live. Because of misinformation, we never had a fair chance to deal effectively with the loss events in our lives.
Some of you are reading this book for reasons other than death or divorce. You might reflect upon your childhood; life was going to be happy and joyous. But owing to many small but unresolved losses over time, you may have awakened one day to find that life had just not worked out the way you hoped it would.
Some of you may not even remember having the idea that life was going to be wonderful. For you, there may be a cumulative sense that your life is not happy—but discontent is all you know. You may have very little or no reference point for joy.
In either case, you may have tried in many ways to improve your sense of happiness and well-being. Therapy, religious or spiritual beliefs, or twelve-step programs may have contributed valuable insights and tools. And yet, you may have a lingering sense that you are incomplete with your past, a feeling that, in turn, diminishes your hopes about the future.
Please do not stop now. This book is for you too.