At the end of February, after an excruciating year-long battle with mammary cancer, I lost my beloved cat Mizu. I adopted her as a kitten when I was twelve, and anyone who knows me knows that she was my heart and soul. So it's been hard. Unfortunately, I've had a lot of experience with grief in my short 25 years. I thought that a reminder that these feelings are part of the process might be therapeutic both for me and for those reading. At a time when we're all grieving something, maybe we've lost a loved one to this pandemic, maybe we're grieving the loss of a world and a life that we loved that will never be the same, or maybe we're grieving for something completely unrelated, I hope these observations and suggestions might help someone else out there too.

I want to say first that the things listed below are based on my own experience, and if none of it resonates with you, that's fine! This article is meant to be descriptive and not prescriptive. So let's get into it.

Whatever you are feeling, and whatever you are feeling it about, it's okay.

Perhaps you're a part of the class of 2020 and are grieving the loss of a celebration of your accomplishments with friends and family. Perhaps you are grieving the loss of a relationship. Perhaps you're grieving the loss of an acquaintance, a public figure, or an unjustly killed stranger. Whatever you are feeling, that feeling is valid. It's easy to slip into comparison at times of crisis. We may think that because the worst didn't happen, that because we are alive and healthy and others are much less fortunate, that we do not deserve to feel distraught over events in our own lives. And while gratitude for our blessings is a good thing, as is empathy for others, comparison helps no one. It does no good for the less fortunate, and that sort of self-punishment only deepens our pain. Be kind to yourself, and let yourself feel what you are feeling.

Avoid blame.

There are few situations where blame is helpful, and unless you are in a situation where prosecution is required, I would try to avoid it. What's done is done. My situation with my kitty is the first time in which decisions I made directly impacted someone's life and death. It's terrifying to think that you could be the author of your own pain in that way. What helps me is to remind myself that I didn't make those decisions alone, to remind myself of the reassurances of her doctors, and to remind myself of my effort and intentions. To remind myself of how deeply I loved her. I think humans are very result-oriented creatures, and when something goes wrong we want to look back at what led us there. We assume that for something so catastrophic to have happened, something must have been wrong along the way, that we must have been wrong. You did nothing wrong. You did the best you could with the information you had at the time. Blaming yourself or blaming others (again, unless someone needs to be prosecuted, fired, etc.) will not change the situation.

Try not to feel guilty about the good days.

Don't let the shoulds take hold of you. When something terrible happens, we think we should be feeling terrible about it all of the time for a long time. But just because you're able to feel happy after your loss does not mean that you're happy that it happened. My fears about dying have little to do with death itself, rather I fear the terrible pain it would cause those who love me. If you're dealing with the death of a loved one, that person would likely celebrate those good days with you if they could. Letting go of your pain does not mean you're letting go of what you loved.

Don't put a timeline on it.

I'll say it again: don't let the shoulds take hold of you. There is no set amount of time that you should or should not be grieving for whatever your circumstance is. If you're feeling guilty for being up on your feet again after what feels like a short time, don't! That's worth celebrating. If you feel like it's been years and you should be over it by now, you shouldn't. It's okay to grieve, and there is no right way to do it.

Grief is a cycle.

This is a truth that can be helpful or hurtful depending on where you are in the process. That truth is that it never really ends. When I'm deep in my hurt and raging against the feeling that a world that includes my loss is becoming normal, it helps to think that this moment isn't the end. One day when I think I've healed I'll wake up and it will hurt again. Of course, when the pain comes again, it won't be welcome. But at every stage of the process, it helps to expect it.

Cry.

This one is simple. Cry. Alone or with others. Allow yourself to cry sometimes. It helps.

Reach out.

I can hear my closest friends screaming at me with this one!! I know! I'm a hypocrite! Apologies to those friends who are just now finding out that anything was wrong with Mizu. I worry about ruining a loved one's day with bad news, and it's hard for me to ask for help with unchangeable situations. But I have learned (and have been told!! hah) that not trusting your friends with your pain can hurt them too. You don't have to go through this alone, and you deserve the support of those who care about you.

Closure is a myth.

In my first real experiences with death as a kid, I would sit and dwell and cry and stew in my feelings, trying to find some sense of "closure". Film and television had led me to believe that if I just spent enough time with the pain, I would eventually come to some tearful conclusion that would allow me to make peace with my situation and move on. But age and experience have taught me that this isn't true. Life will go on, and eventually, you will adjust to your new normal. Don't ignore your feelings, but don't punish yourself by letting them take over 100% of the time. Time will heal you, but forcing yourself to dive into that suffering won't hand you a shortcut to the end of your pain.

Make a shift toward gratitude.

With that being said, while I don't believe in closure, I do believe in gratitude. I highly recommend you listen to the episode of Brené Brown's podcast Unlocking Us that I will link for you here. Grief expert David Kessler put it best there, but I'll paraphrase him. Some people have a way of speaking about suffering through a lens of gratitude that does not resonate with many of us. It often sounds like, "I'm grateful for my suffering because it made me stronger/who I am/a better person," etc. I want to say that your loss was not a test or a blessing. It's just something that happened to you. Perhaps you did learn and grow, but given the choice, we would likely all trade the growth for what we lost. You don't need to find it in you to be grateful for what happened to you.

I think a healthier view of gratitude in the face of loss is not in being grateful for the loss but in being grateful for the life. Maybe you've lost that person or place or animal, but the love remains and will go on. It's easy in times of loss to get caught up in the pain. I urge you not to let the loss rewrite your experience so that when you look back you feel the pain of the loss rather than the warmth of the love. Be grateful for the time you had and the love you shared, and allow that love to sustain you through this time of grief.

I hope that this was actually helpful and not just me pouring my feelings onto a page! I hope you feel seen. If there is anything that helped you through a time of grief that I didn't mention, please share it in the comments below. Sending love to all those reading.