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Good Grief
 
 
 
Last November I got an e-mail about a friend who had strolled off for an afternoon walk in a little village in Nepal. The trail sat next to a vicious river; he was never seen again. There were helicopter searches and police dogs and missing persons postings throughout the area. His wife went back three times to organize her own searches, but the only traces of him found were his jacket and one shoe pulled from the river.

Those months when there were neither clues or closure, we spoke of him as if he were still alive and would resurface from the Nepalese foothills at any moment. We found reasons to dismiss every possible scenario save the one that kept him alive. Wild animals? Not in that area. Bandits? Unlikely in Nepal. Murder? But who and why? Drowning? He was a natural athlete. Only when his coat and shoe surfaced did we finally admit the inescapable.

Susan Anderson, a psychotherapist and author of The Journey from Abandonment to Healing, calls such repeated refusals to accept death or any type of loss "protesting" against the reality of the pain. "People tend to not accept grief," says Anderson. "All grievers feel they're not doing as well as they should. Instead of accepting and making a proactive decision in life, they would rather stay at the level of the problem, railing against the fact that it exists and somehow they think they'll wear the reality away." The protest, though, "eventually gives way to intense depression and longing—that's a good sign," she says. "It eventually leads to acceptance."

In her book, Anderson outlines steps that accompany a loss, noting that what's most important for healing is for people to envision a beginning, a middle, and an end to their pain. "If they see where they're going," she explains, "it makes it more endurable." The five stages of the grief process, according to Anderson, can be encapsulated in the acronym SWIRL: shattering, withdrawal, internalizing, rage, and lifting.

Shattering describes the initial devastation, during which despair and panic set in. Next comes withdrawal. "This stage often means waiting and wishful thinking, which in turn can lead to internalizing the rejection," says Anderson. "This is the most critical step, because [if not ended] it can create permanent scarring and a preoccupation with regret." Rage is the turning point during the grief process and Anderson believes such externalization of anger is the beginning of a new strength that will lift people out of grief and enable them to learn from their experience.

This five-part process "can happen in a few minutes or over the course of a year," says Anderson. "The protest can kick you right back to the beginning, searching for the lost object." She cites the families of the 1996 TWA Flight 800 crash, who repeatedly return to the place where their loved one was last alive, searching for items—suitcases, clothes, any belongings—that will call forth the victims into tangible memory, even if for only a moment.

Unfortunately, for many, grief has no statute of limitations, though it can be particularly acute after a relationship ends. "A breakup affects self-esteem and can cause you to doubt yourself," says Anderson, whose patients fall largely into this category. "It keeps resurfacing, and you wind up not resolving anything [but instead] choosing the same type of person." It's important to always remember, she cautions, that pain stems from loss and not from weakness or a lack of stamina in a person.

"People tend to do the opposite of what they need. Somehow they think they're supposed to make the pain go away," says Anderson. "When you go through trauma you get flooded with everything that's ever happened to you. The pain you feel when a loved one has left is not an end, but a beginning to personal growth."

For more information, check out Susan Anderson's Web site: www.abandonment.net.

- Eve Bohsali



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