Life after death — what no one tells you about sudden bereavement
In April 2021, a journaling prompt invited me to write about grief. I distinctly remember writing about how lucky I felt to not have experienced the heartbreak that comes with the loss of a close loved one.
Yet.
The wave of relief at the thought of my loved ones all safe and healthy at home broke and was replaced by its ever-present dark twin — the knowledge that one day that would no longer be true.
I had only known grief as a child — I was 17 when the last of my grandparents died. As an adult, I had never faced the kind of tragedy that I witnessed in the lives of friends and colleagues over the years. The shadows of their pain lurked on the edges of my imagination, promising to one day come for me, too. I pushed them away.
Little did I know, on that sunny April day in my local Barcelona park, that the clock was ticking on my own grief time-bomb. Just six months later, I would be living my own tragedy.
Around 10.30 pm on the 16th of October, I was watching a scene in the last episode of Orange Is The New Black in which a young mother dies. Suddenly, my phone started vibrating and my father’s name appeared on the screen. I was already shaking as I reached for the phone. I felt sick. It was like my body knew what had happened before my brain did.
I could see straight away he was at the hospital. My immediate thoughts were “accident” followed by “COVID”. Something serious, but solvable. No part of me expected him to say the words, “Mummy has just died”. But that was what he said.
It’s an understatement to say that nothing can prepare you for unexpected bereavement. As my friend Kristina says, there is no grief playbook. Partly because grief is such a taboo that no one talks about it, and partly because every grief journey is unique. My mother was a healthy, vibrant 69-year-old with no known health problems. She was the best my brother and I could have wished for, which is why her unexpected passing is such a deeply painful loss.
I believe we need to start talking more openly about bereavement. It’s the hardest thing we go through as humans, and it’s a universal experience. But the taboos surrounding grief can make it an incredibly lonely journey. It can make you feel you have to mask your pain to protect others, which leads to feeling isolated and misunderstood.
In this post, I’ll share some of my experiences of sudden bereavement so far. This list may not be universal, and it’s definitely not exhaustive, but I hope it might give some guidance on what to expect from the sudden loss of a loved one. I’ll also provide some tips for others who are navigating the stormy waters of grief.
What no one tells you about sudden grief
1. The shock can last for months
It’s been five months since my mother left this earthly plane, and even as I write these words, a small part of me still doesn’t quite believe it’s true. Every time I look at a picture of her, the feelings of disbelief return. She can’t be gone, it’s not possible. And yet she is.
Sudden bereavement is traumatic and, like any trauma, lives on in our hearts, minds, and bodies for months and even years after the event. Whenever my brain isn’t busy doing something else, the flashbacks move in to fill the void.
That doesn’t mean I sit around thinking about what happened — it means that images, moments, and conversations flash involuntarily through my mind. This often provokes emotions and turns getting through an ordinary day into a monumental challenge.
2. You might get insomnia
I’ve always had trouble with sleep, but grief will take your insomnia to the next level. Even my brother, who could win an Olympic gold medal for sleeping, struggled to get any shuteye in the aftermath of our loss. At the same time, the grieving process sucks all the energy out of you, so you’re permanently exhausted.
3. It’s hard to focus
As a freelance writer, I only get paid when I work. The world doesn’t stop for my grief. But no matter how much I try to throw myself back into it, my brain says no.
It’s frustrating. It’s like I’m trying to run a race through mud while everyone else is on the track. I just can’t keep up. I have to keep plenty of space in my diary for the waves of emotion that can knock me off my feet at any moment.
4. It gets harder with time
When it first happened, people told me a lot of different things about their experience with grief. Some of it was quite cryptic, but one thing I read clearly between the lines was that the worst was yet to come. And they were right.
Grief gets worse before it gets better. The more time passes is more time spent living in pain. You miss the person more and more each day. You spend your days thinking about how you would give the entire world for just one last hug and the million and one things you would have done differently if only you had known.
5. It’s soul-crushingly permanent
Death is the only thing in life that has no solution. You wake up every day knowing that they’re still not going to be there, no matter how much you cry, scream, plead, or roll around on your bed like a toddler having a tantrum. There’s absolutely nothing you can do. And it sucks.
6. People will surprise you
Some people will behave exactly as you expect them to. Many of those you expect to be there for you will, and many of those who you don’t…won’t.
But some people will surprise you. The people who you least expect to be there will appear out of nowhere and be everything you need them to be. Some of the most meaningful, supportive, and heartfelt messages, phone calls, and care packages I received were from people I hadn’t seen in years.
And some of the people who you think are going to be there will act like you don’t exist. This can be painful — not only are you dealing with your loss, but also what feels like their rejection. Don’t hold it against them. My guess is they probably just don’t know what to say.
7. Your mental health will be triggered
If you’ve ever had mental health issues before your bereavement, get ready for a fun ride. Because all those demons that you worked so hard to overcome are going to roll through for the after party.
8. You will discover strength you never knew you had
My mother was my angel, my rock, and my biggest cheerleader. The only person in this world who truly knew me, and the only one who loved and supported me unconditionally. I realise I was lucky — not everyone has a mother like mine. But now that person has been so cruelly ripped away from me, I have to be those things for myself.
I thought I would die, but I’m still alive. Heart overflowing with pain but cracked open wide, I’m discovering an inner strength I never knew I had and learning how to parent myself.
Coping strategies for dealing with sudden bereavement
Even though there are days when you feel like you might die, life must — and does — go on, and you have to find ways to deal with it. Here are a few of the things that help me get through each day.
1. Allow yourself to feel it all
A lot of people struggle to let themselves feel their grief. It wasn’t the case for me, but I can understand why. It’s the deepest emotional pain you’ve ever felt, so it’s natural to want to avoid it.
But the only way to process the loss is to move through the pain. It doesn’t go away just because you don’t look at it — quite the opposite. Others I’ve spoken to say they paid the price in the form of emotional breakdowns six to twelve months after their bereavement.
My therapist gave me a good tip for dealing with this. Obviously we can’t spend our whole lives feeling our grief as we’d never get anything done. But we can designate a time each day to sit with our thoughts and allow ourselves to feel our emotions. This way, we can process our pain without being debilitated by it.
2. Give yourself more time than you think
Grief takes over your entire being for a long time and can completely derail any plans you might have had. Give yourself grace — and lots of time.
If possible, create time each day to just be. Do whatever you want with this time. It might be crying, it might be journaling, it might be taking a walk outside. It’s essential to take time to connect with yourself and nurture your mind, body, and spirit.
Don’t have expectations about how long your grieving process “should” take. It takes longer than you think, and you can’t rush it. I don’t know yet how long mine will take, but at five months in, I know it’s not going to be any time soon.
3. Lean on “safe” people
Social situations are hard when you’re grieving. During any conversation, my grief and my poor dead mum are never far from my mind. That’s why I feel most comfortable around my “safe” people.
Your safe people might be your family. I live in a different country from my family, and no one around me is going through what I’m going through, so it can feel very isolating at times. My safe people have been my international family, the ones who have known me for years and can still see the “pre-grief” me in there somewhere.
Some of the ones who have helped me most are those who have also gone through grief and understand it. Others are those who simply remind me that it’s OK to come exactly as I am.
4. Create
It might be a cliché, but art really does heal. It doesn’t matter what you create or what the result is. Commit to the process, not the outcome. It’s not about becoming a great artist, but about expressing yourself through any medium that calls to you.
5. Prioritise self-care
Grief is a physical, mental, and emotional process. Support yourself through it by prioritising activities that help you take deep care of yourself.
Self-care means different things to different people. Some suggestions include:
- Cooking healthy, nutritious food
- Taking naps
- Yoga
- Meditation
- Going to the gym or playing a sport
- Cleaning
- Spending time with friends or family
- Reading
- Watching films or series
- Taking a walk
- Journaling
- Dancing
- Creating
Let’s keep the conversation going
Honestly, I feel like I could write a whole book on grief (and maybe one day I will). I think it’s important to keep talking about this incredibly difficult but completely natural experience.
If you’ve been through your own grieving process, what would you add to this list?
If you haven’t been through it yet, what else would you like to know?
Leave me a comment or send me an email if you’d rather have a private conversation.
