Five Stages of Grief are a Dangerous Myth

In writing this post I changed the title a number of times. Depending on how I was feeling the title was going to be "The 5 stages of grief don't work" "The 5 stages of grief are poppycock" "There is no such thing as the stages of grief - 5 or other"

I know that I may be stepping on toes with this post, but this blog is to give a voice to my journey without CJ and what I have learned about grief. In my journey, there are no stages. There are emotions, and feelings, and actual physical reactions, and they come and they go and they ebb and flow, but they do not move in stages.

I have come to believe that the idea of the 5 stages of grief is a dangerous concept. It gives the false idea that a person who is grieving moves through these stages to a preordained conclusion.

The idea that there is an end to this grief is dangerous to the person grieving. They may think there is a goal they are suppose to achieve, but that they can't possibly meet. This belief of a journey with an end is especially dangerous to those not experiencing grief,. Those not grieving may use the concept to judge those who are grieving, even if that judgement is unintentional. It leads others to believe that a person in grief should follow a specific path, which can give rise to untold misunderstanding.

For myself, for my journey these are the truths I have found:

There is not a straight line for this grief journey. One day I can be okay, and the next I lose all the ground that I have gained. I thought my journey was not going to include anger, but these days it creeps in and it is a struggle for me not to give into it. I do believe I have sidestepped depression, but sadness, melancholy, longing, these are a daily part of my life.

The hardest part of the journey is the happiness. To understand that I can feel happiness or some facsimile of it while still feeling such internal sadness, is a weirdness that is hard to explain. To wake up to the sun shining, and birds singing, and realizing its okay to take pleasure in that, along with the pain that comes in knowing that CJ no longer sees those things, is hard.

The hardest work that I have found is to accept the happiness. The pain is easy. Its a friend. The anger is easy. It is often a tension releaser. The grief is a constant companion that I am use to. Happiness, without my son, is the work I do every day.

That sounds like I am not happy. That sounds like I haven't continued a life that is without him. Nothing could be further from the truth. First, I don't believe my life is without him. I see him, and feel him every day. I have happiness. I am learning to accept that happiness, without guilt without remorse. Accepting the happiness, and merging it with the pain is the work I do every day. I need to do this work so that I can both live a life with happiness and honour my grief to my son.

There are no stages. There is no set path. Each persons journey is different. Each person struggles with different emotions at different times, and when they need to. To button hole everyone into the same journey is a misconception.

Just before I posted this, I stopped and went for a walk. It was a beautiful day. I went to see CJ's tree. I was just walking and taking in the day. The next thing I knew, a wave of longing to see CJ, to have him back took me by surprise and brought tears to my eyes. I gave into it, gave the feeling time to subside, and then turned my face to the sun, and held his face in my heart. That is what a day is like in grief.

I am on my grief journey. I will always be on this grief journey. What it looks like for me, only I can say. Each day, I walk that path, a little bitter at the burden, a little scared at the distance, but always, always with CJ in my heart and mind and soul, helping me on this journey.