What grief actually feels like

Rarely like the version people describe. Grief turns up as exhaustion, irritability, difficulty concentrating and a body that aches for no clear reason, as often as it turns up as sadness. It doesn’t move through stages in order, it arrives in waves with long flat stretches between them, and it frequently gets harder around the six-month mark, when everyone else has moved on and the support has quietly stopped.

Nobody warns you about the second year.

The first has a shape to it. There’s the event, then the arrangements, then the people, then the firsts: the first birthday, the first Christmas, the first time you go to ring them before remembering. Awful, and at least legible. Everybody around you knows what’s happening.

Then the calls stop coming, and you’re supposed to be through it, and you’re not.

That’s the first thing worth saying, because a lot of people carry an unnamed grief for years on the grounds that nobody died.

A marriage ending is a bereavement. So is a career you built an identity on. So is a body that used to do things it can’t do now, or a friendship that quietly stopped, or the version of your life you were reasonably sure you were going to get.

Any of those produce the same thing. And they come with less permission, because there’s no funeral and no card, which makes them harder rather than easier.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Almost everyone knows the list.

What almost nobody’s told is that the model was originally describing terminally ill patients coming to terms with their own deaths, not bereaved people, and that it was never meant as a sequence you complete in order.

So people arrive convinced they’re doing it wrong. They’re angry in month eight, having decided they’d finished with anger. They feel fine for three weeks and think it’s over. They hit acceptance and then lose it entirely in a supermarket because a song came on.

None of that is failing. Grief comes in waves, the waves get further apart, and the flat stretches between them aren’t progress you can bank.

The part people are least prepared for.

Exhaustion that sleep doesn’t touch. Difficulty concentrating, to the point where reading a page twice becomes normal. Appetite gone, or appetite constant. Physical aches with no obvious cause. Getting sick more often than usual.

Irritability, which is the one that damages relationships, because it doesn’t look like grief to anyone watching. It looks like you’ve become difficult.

If it’s physical and persistent, see a GP. Grief does live in the body, and it’s also true that other things do, and you want to know which one you’re dealing with.

Support is intense and then it’s not.

Around the six-month mark most of it has gone, and around the same time the numbness starts wearing off. Numbness is doing a job in those early months. It’s the thing letting you organise a funeral and answer a hundred messages and appear functional.

When it lifts, you feel more, not less. And you feel it with fewer people asking.

That timing catches people badly, and it’s why so many arrive at counselling months after the loss, apologising for leaving it so long, convinced they should be further along.

Nothing fixes it. Anyone offering you that is selling something.

Say their name. People stop mentioning them because they’re afraid of upsetting you, and the silence becomes its own loss. You’re allowed to bring them up. Most of the time you’ll find the other person was waiting for permission.

Let the waves run. Fighting one makes it longer. They pass on their own if you let them, and they pass faster than you expect.

Keep some structure. Not productivity. Structure. Meals at roughly the same time, sleep at roughly the same time, one thing in the diary each week with a person in it. Grief dismantles routine, and routine is part of what carries you.

Watch the numbing. Drinking more, working more, filling every hour. All of it works in the short term, which is exactly the problem.

Don’t measure yourself against anyone. Including who you were last month. There’s no schedule and there’s no correct depth of feeling.

Grief and depression overlap, and they’re not identical.

Grief tends to come in waves and you can still be reached between them. There are moments of connection, humour, ordinary pleasure, even early on. Depression is flatter and more constant, and it takes those moments with it.

If it’s been months and there’s nothing in the flat stretches at all, or if you’re having thoughts of not wanting to be here, that’s the point to involve a GP. There’s a separate post on the signs worth knowing.

It doesn’t shrink.

You get bigger around it. The loss stays roughly the size it was, and your life gradually grows until it’s not the whole of the picture. That’s a different promise from the one people usually offer, and it’s the one that turns out to be true.

I lost a version of my life some years back. Not a person. A marriage, a career, a body that worked, and a fairly confident idea of who I was going to be.

I waited a long time for it to shrink.

It didn’t. I got bigger.

• Name what you’ve lost. Grief without a death still counts, and the ones nobody acknowledges are usually carried longest.
• Stop grading yourself against the stages. They were never a schedule, and being angry in month eight isn’t going backwards.
• Say their name out loud. The people around you have gone quiet because they’re afraid of hurting you, and they’re mostly waiting for permission.
• Keep the structure, not the productivity. Meals, sleep, one thing each week with a person in it.
• Get the physical symptoms checked. Grief does live in the body. So do other things.

This week: tell one person one true thing about how you’re actually going, rather than the version you’ve been handing out.

What does grief actually feel like?

Often exhaustion, irritability, difficulty concentrating and unexplained physical aches, as much as sadness. It arrives in waves with flat stretches between them rather than as one continuous feeling.

Are the five stages of grief real?

The model was originally describing terminally ill patients facing their own deaths, and it was never intended as a sequence to be completed in order. People move back and forth, and doing so isn’t a sign anything’s gone wrong.

How long does grief last?

There’s no timeframe, and the six-month mark is often harder than the first weeks, because the numbness lifts around the same time the support stops.

Can you grieve something other than a death?

Yes. The end of a marriage, a career, a friendship, or a future you were counting on all produce grief, and they come with less social permission, which tends to make them harder to carry.

What’s the difference between grief and depression?

Grief comes in waves and you can usually still be reached between them, with moments of connection or humour. Depression is flatter and more constant and takes those moments with it. If the flat stretches have nothing in them at all, that’s worth a GP appointment.

Why do I feel worse months later?

Numbness does a job early on, letting you function through the arrangements and the messages. When it lifts you feel more rather than less, and it usually lifts around the time everyone else has moved on.

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Solid Foundations Counselling is not a crisis service. If you or someone you know needs immediate help, contact one of the following.

• Triple Zero on 000
• 1800RESPECT on 1800 737 732, 24 hours, any gender, family and sexual violence
• MensLine Australia on 1300 78 99 78, 24 hours
• Full Stop Australia on 1800 385 578, 24 hours, trauma counselling for people of all genders
• Lifeline on 13 11 14, or text 0477 13 11 14
• Suicide Call Back Service on 1300 659 467
• 13YARN on 13 92 76, 24 hours, for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people
• No to Violence, Men’s Referral Service on 1300 766 491, for men concerned about their own behaviour
• Family Drug and Gambling Help on 1300 660 068, 24 hours

Grief work isn’t about getting over anything, and it’s not on a schedule. If you’d like to talk it through with someone, I offer a free fifteen minute introductory call. No cost, no pressure, no obligation.

• Why are goodbyes so hard?
• How to heal from a relationship breakdown
• The darkness: what depression actually looks like
• The first ninety days after a separation