GRIEF

GRIEF
'And Other Feelings We Hide'
Personal Story by Elizabeth Blake-Thomas

​How are you? How are you doing? How’s it going? These are just a few of the ways I get asked daily to describe my current state of mind, having lost my four-legged soulmate, daughter, best friend, and partner 12 weeks ago. The trouble is, they don’t invite an honest answer; just the usual, “I’m great… You know, hanging in there… I’m fine. How are you?”

What I really want to say is this: I am riddled with guilt every minute of every day for not being there when my four-legged baby passed. I’m heartbroken all day knowing she isn’t sharing each moment with me. I feel lost, as if a piece of me died. More than just a piece, in fact. I died. Who I was, who I was becoming, my friendship group, my interest in life, my passion for each day, my social life; all of it died.

If I actually answered this way, I’m sure people would either be dumbstruck and quietly walk away, or say nothing at all and just nod. So why do we have to hide our true feelings, shielding ourselves from the reactions of others? What would happen if I told the truth?

Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m feeling, and that too requires an answer people wouldn’t understand: “I’m tired, I’m numb, I don’t really know how I am.” When we pause to gain clarity on our feelings, it can feel daunting to truly listen and accept them.

I live a fairly organized life: I have plans, schedules, and goals. I know what I like and what I don’t. But when it comes to my feelings right now, they are confusing and often muddled. What I’ve realized is that this is okay. It’s okay to be complex and not always understand ourselves.

What are the feelings we choose to hide from others, and why? Why do we feel the need to pretend everything is okay all the time? What would happen if we were honest? Grief is just one of the many feelings we hide.

Vulnerability is something that has been truly exposed in my current state. I feel like an open wound that could be attacked at any time. If I’m not prepared for it to be seen by the world, I choose to stay inside. If, however, I’m feeling slightly braver, I can go outside, and my wound is exposed. Everyone sees it. I don’t hide it. Certain people are drawn to this, while others are turned off. That’s okay. It’s about accepting whatever mental space I’m in. I’ve recognized it’s not about pleasing others or worrying about what they think of me. This is about me and how I want and need to feel right now.

I often imagine what it would be like if there were one step more to being open and vulnerable. Imagine if our bodies showed all of our feelings on the outside—if they revealed where we had trauma and how we had been hurt, if the bruises were visible. Would we avoid those with more bruises? Would we prefer to be with those who had none? The phrase “wear your heart on your sleeve” is an interesting one. What if we truly did exactly that?

Sometimes people don’t want to share or be open about their feelings. That’s okay too. Right now, I want my grief to be private. When I go out, I don’t want to be reminded constantly of how I’m feeling or be asked how I’m doing. I want to put on that mask and simply be who I was before the loss. What I’ve realized as the weeks roll on is that grief is ever-changing. She is always with me, and I’ve invited her to live with me as a guest. There are house rules, though: sometimes I want to be around her and talk to her; other times I need a break, and I want her to leave me alone. I’ve recognized that no two people experience grief in the same way. Sometimes I don’t even know what to expect when she shows up. The sadness is often so great it blocks out the light. But the light comes in many forms for me. I might look at photos of Chai or watch videos, remembering all of the amazing adventures we had together.

One of the last things we did that was officially filmed was my second TEDx talk. She was with me on the stage, and she was mentioned in the talk. Every time I watch it, I’m reminded of the little things, the glimmers, that help me through these hard times. On the stage, I could only mention three things, but I actually created a list of 88.

These are 88 things I believe can take our mind, heart, and soul back to a calm, fun, and happy place. I hope they bring you some joy as well.

• Write with a pen
• Smile
• Drink water
• Try something new
• Dopamine dressing
• Find the fun
• Go dancing (even if it’s in your own living room)
• Buy yourself flowers
• Sing (even if it’s just to yourself at home)
• Sit in silence
• Do less
• Breathe
• Slow down
• Immerse yourself in other cultures (through films, books, art)
• Travel
• Paint (even if you think you’re no good)
• Walk
• Visit the ocean
• Visit the mountains
• Sit in nature
• Go on a picnic
• Remove technology
• Read a book
• Sleep or take a nap
• Eat slowly and consciously
• Listen to music
• Play an instrument (even if it’s just banging some drums or shaking a tambourine)
• Create a “to-be” list instead of a to-do list
• Share kindness
• Give a compliment
• Drink your tea or coffee slowly
• Phone a friend
• See a friend
• Play a board game
• Make a plan (big or small)
• Create a creative cocoon (a safe space—see my book for details)
• Tell a joke
• Laugh
• Sit in the sunshine
• Stretch
• Offer to help someone
• Visit a bookstore
• Say hello to strangers
• Hug an animal
• Cook something from scratch
• Go to a museum
• Visit an art gallery
• Tell someone you love them
• Wash your face
• Take a bath
• Take a bath with scents or oils
• Light a candle
• Brush your teeth
• Paint your nails
• Take a shower
• Wear perfume
• Smell the roses (literally)
• Grow something in your garden or a flowerpot
• Walk barefoot
• Choose your favorite outfit to wear
• Pretend it’s your birthday
• Watch an old movie
• Practice self-care
• Sort out a cupboard
• Visit a vintage store
• Collect shells
• Make a daisy chain
• Write a poem
• Swing on a swing
• Hug a tree
• Eat chocolate or cheese (preferably vegan)
• Spend time with friends
• Speak to an elderly person
• Make a bracelet
• Give a gift
• Bake biscuits
• Paint your face with face paint
• Feed the ducks
• Take a photo with a real camera
• Write a gratitude list
• Listen to children’s laughter and watch them play
• Stand in the rain and get wet
• Organize a small cupboard
• Make a card and send it to someone
• Write a letter and mail it
• Hug yourself
• Make a vision board
• Write nutshell cards (mini vision boards)

​Be kind to yourself. Listen to what your body is telling you it needs.

When you’re doing even one thing off this list, sit with it for a few moments and be present. Take a deep breath in, then out; smell the roses, blow out the candles. For that moment, your nervous system, your brain, your heart, mind, and soul will find a breath of peace, clarity, calm, and happiness. ∎