by : lacylit10 Life Lessons

Closure.

Making sense of something we have lost is the acceptance stage of grief.  Seeking closure can stem from any form of loss, not just the loss of a relationship.  An explanation or answer as to why we lost something can provide us with the opportunity to learn something about ourselves or the other person or situation (whatever it may be).

Closure exists on a scale; different personalities may be more prone to seek closure than others.  Not receiving closure for people who need it can lead to psychological distress.  

One study found that people who prefer order and predictability – having a more rigid way of thinking and a low tolerance for ambiguity – struggle when they are unable to find the answers to help them move on. In contrast, people who are more open minded, creative and comfortable with ambiguity are better able to cope with not achieving closure.

(source)

I’m not one way or the other. My personal need for closure is definitely on a scale. While I can logically come to terms with something, it might take me a little longer emotionally.

Remember when I wanted to have a courageous conversation with someone who avoided the conversation altogether? This was a situation where I had to accept ambiguity in closure. I knew that seeking out further closure would not make me feel better. I knew that it had the potential to actually make me feel worse, so I had to accept it for what it was.

Most people need closure most when termination of the event is significant, holding particular value or meaning. And that’s true. This person was important to me. While my head knows his reaction to the situation will have me better off in the long run, my heart is still hurting from the loss of our friendship. I learned something about myself and the other person in this situation, but that hasn’t made accepting it any easier or allowed me to move on from it any quicker.

In terms of COVID, life before pandemic was pretty damn great. And while it didn’t change dramatically, it changed enough. What makes COVID so tough is we are still in the midst of it. We don’t know if there’s going to be another wave in the fall or spring. We don’t know when our economy is going to re-open at full capacity. We don’t know what changes the election will bring. There is so. much. uncertainty. It’s hard to accept what it is, as it is, when it is constantly changing.

I think finding closure is a lot like handling disappointment. When you operate with ethos and logos, closure is a little more tangible. When you you operate with ethos and pathos, closure is a little more ambiguous. But when you’ve lost something of significance, it’s likely that you’ve put your head and your heart on the line. The more you have invested, the more emotional ramifications there will be, and the road to closure may take a little longer than anticipated.

by : lacylit10 Life Lessons

Grief.

Suffering is part of human existence.  This is fact.  Every person in the world has lost something of significance and gone into a process of grieving.  Grief takes on different forms for different people.  Some numb pain; some deny through avoidance, and some lean into the pain.  Loss is unavoidable. 

Grief comes after loss, and psychiatrist Elizabeth Kübler-Ross believed that there are 5 stages of grief.  They are:

  1. Denial
  2. Anger
  3. Bargaining
  4. Depression
  5. Acceptance

There has been criticisms of this grief theory among social scientists.  I don’t love it or hate it.  I do think grief is a process, but I don’t necessarily think there is a structure (that we grieve in this consecutive order).  Grief affects us all differently, and we all manage it differently.  It is an incredibly powerful emotion that has physical, social, behavioral, cognitive, and spiritual affects.  

David Kessler said, we lost the world as we know it because of COVID.  I don’t think it’s extreme to consider we as a collective society and we as individuals are experiencing grief due to the loss of our pre-COVID lives.

On a frustrating day, I live in COVID denial.  On a bad day, I live in COVID depression.  On a hopeful day, I live in COVID bargaining.  On a melancholy day, I live in COVID acceptance.  On a sad day, I live in COVID anger. 

Notice how I didn’t say “on a good day”?  Yeah, that was on purpose. 😔  It’s hard to see the good in grief.  COVID has fundamentally changed our society and that is having profound effects on our well-being.  We are culturally going through transformational change.  It has been abrupt, dramatic, problematic, and traumatic.  

While time may heal all wounds, scars are left behind – reminders of what we loss and subsequent negative emotions when we pay attention to those reminders.  But with COVID, at least for me, I guess I see a very dim light at the end of the tunnel.  A return to pre-COVID “normal” seems so far away.  We are six months into this global pandemic, and my wounds are still healing.   

I’m fortunate to understand what’s going on (for the most part).  I know myself well enough to know when I need special or extra care.  As someone who suffered from depression in the past, I know that I am in a vulnerable state.  I’ve had to make conscious and concerted efforts to give my mind, body, and soul the care it needs to sustain this discomfort for the foreseeable future.  

I feel like what makes the recovery part of COVID grief so difficult is that we do not have the outlets or ability to lean into the connections we desperately need to get us through these difficult times – at least in California. 😒 And what we are able to do, we must do with half our face covered – preventing us from receiving non-verbal cues from those with whom we communicate.

Like so many things we encounter in our lives, we often have a hard time accepting things for what they are when those things are beyond our control. While I logically understand this global pandemic, my emotional side is having a hard time coming to terms with it.

While I may not agree with the consecutive order in which we grieve, I do believe that acceptance is the last stage. Some days I accept COVID for what it is (on that particular day), but I have not accepted it for what it has done (personally and economically). I have not accepted the mental and behavioral health ramifications that are stemming from it (individually and collectively), nor have I accepted with the ability to move on.

Like scars from wounds that have healed, acceptance does not mean that all of our negative feelings magically disappear. Reminders still exist. When we push too hard, stitches can come undone. Infections can arise. We are. still. in. the healing process. Acceptance does not come within a specific timeframe. And even when the wounds have healed, sometimes it truly does become living in a “new normal.”