Moving Through The Fog - Mourn, Baby, Mourn

Moving through the Fog - Mourn, Baby, Mourn

ONCE WE RECOGNIZE our defeat (and that of course is a big step in itself, as many of us stay in denial a bit too long), I think our first step in overcoming the downfall is this: mourn, baby, mourn.

Some of us are hardwired to circumvent grieving; I personally avoid it at all costs because it ruins my mascara. Except when I watch Aunt Jemima commercials or sing praise songs, I’m fairly dry eyed. But I don’t think this has served me well when I have moved through my personal fogs and disappointments. I think my pride thwarted my recovery. Then there’s another issue some of us face. I’m not sure we all know how to grieve.

I think a lot of us prefer to put on our masks of happiness and pretend that we’re fine. Of course, this will work for a while, but when the mask begins to bind and get itchy, we peel it off—exposing our vulnerabilities. Those of us who are by nature incredibly optimistic are probably the worst offenders of this. I know I was. When I was younger, I tried to bypass the tears to “get on with it.” I would pull myself up by my bootstraps and keep going. I tried to ignore pain to make it go away. But it didn’t, and failing to meet the grief head-on just prolonged my recovery.

There are some excellent books and Web sites that define the stages of grief. Five stages are commonly given, though some authorities feel there are as many as twelve. I once studied the topic and really like the following acronym I came across:

T—To accept the reality of the loss (the analysis phase)

E—Experience the pain of the loss

A—Adjust to the new environment without the lost person or subject

R—Reinvest in the new reality

A time to cry and a time to laugh.A time to grieve and a time to dance. (Ecclesiastes 3:4)

Have you properly grieved your loss, or is your mask getting uncomfortable too?