TRANSCRIPT
“A dancer dies twice, once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the most painful”
“The person I considered my best friend, who also knows all these personal intimate things about me, that I haven't told a lot of other people, has decided that for some reason, doesn't want to speak to me or be involved with me in any way anymore.”
Everyone, at some point or another, will lose someone or something they love.
And yet grief is still seen as a taboo, particularly in dominant western cultures.
So how do different cultures hold space for grief, and are some better equipped than others?
And how can we think about grief beyond the concept of death, looking at other profoundly life-changing forms of loss?
I'm Catriona Stirrat , and this is the fourth episode of 'Living Loss’.
In this episode, we explore other typically unspoken about forms of grief beyond death, and some of the challenges around finding the language for a loss that might not be socially recognised or validated.
“I was already familiar with the writing and work of a really great American dancer and choreographer whose name is Martha Graham. And she had spoken about that sense of loss in a really beautiful way. And she says, a dancer dies twice, once when they stop dancing, and that first death is the most painful.”
That was Hillary, not her real name.
She's not a dancer, but a classical musician who lost her dream job unexpectedly.
“So it culminated when I won this really fantastic award, a national award, to go and study overseas with whoever I chose. And so it was an amazing opportunity to go and spend time with global leaders, and I went to lots and lots of different places, and it was amazing, a really amazing experience. But my boss was furious, and so when I got back from that trip, I didn't have a job anymore.”
Hillary couldn't understand what happened, and received no communication from the company, where she had worked with a small group of other professional musicians, engaging in a variety of rewarding community-led performances.
She says she felt blindsided and confused at first, before she was hit with a deep grief fuelled by anger and despair.
“I just felt really puzzled at first because I hadn't seen it coming at all. And then I was just really devastated because I had all this information and learning and then I had no outlet for it at all. And then I had completely lost any external way of expressing the skills I had spent a lifetime of building up. I really felt very lost and at sea for a long time. Puzzled doesn't really, I was just flabbergasted I guess.”
Griefline counsellor Abi Catchlove uses the term disenfranchised grief to describe such types of unspoken losses.
“So the disenfranchised grief is a grief that's not openly or publicly acknowledged. So this could be the loss of a pet, or abortion, or a miscarriage, or loss of personality or ability due to health conditions, or the loss of a relationship or friendship breakup. It might be confusing as to why we have such big emotions over it, but it's valid. All of these losses are very valid, and it speaks to that disenfranchisement of almost not feeling allowed to feel it, or have the permission to feel it.”
Fiona Bennett - a relationship counsellor and manager at Relationships Australia - says it's important to acknowledge all kinds of loss.
“The idea that we experience grief when we have any kind of loss is an important one to recognise, because loss isn't just about death, loss is something that we used to have, that we don't have anymore. You know, a loss when someone dies, not that that loss feels easy, but it's kind of easier to understand, it's a simpler kind of loss.”
A lack of understanding from family and friends certainly exacerbated Hillary's loss.
“My family found it difficult to understand why I was having trouble moving on from that. And everybody else around me was like oh well just go and get another job, why don't you train for something else? Why don't you just do something else? And that was hard, maybe it was like the equivalent of saying, oh your spouse has died, there are plenty of other fish in the sea. Yeah, I felt like there was no sense of this terrible loss and sorrow that I was feeling.”
Xanthe shared the story of the loss of her brother in episode one, but she was also experiencing another type of loss during this time.
One she herself describes as more difficult to navigate.
“I became a single parent soon after I had my son because his father left, you know. And so I raised him more or less, not on my own, you know big extended Italian family, it was really good for him. He turned out really well, met a lovely girl and then moved in with her, and is married now. And then he left. So I felt I built my identity around my sense of purpose too, and then it was all gone.”
This happened around the time her brother was dying, and was compounded by the isolation of Covid-19.
Xanthe's grief was only made worse by a profound lack of understanding around this loss.
This dismissal was something Xanthe even experienced from someone trusted with her feelings and experiences.
“So anyway I more or less I suppose couldn't cope and went to a therapist to help with that. And I found that one way I was dealing with it, which was kind of unhealthy, was that I was hoarding cash, or hoarding things, hoping that I could help my son. Like you do, in, my background is Italian. It seemed okay, and I must add I came from a multicultural suburb to a rather non-multicultural suburb. And the words came out: 'you should try to be more Australian'. And I thought hang on a minute, at first I was gobsmacked, and then I thought about it and I thought how much more Australian can you be than born here?”
The comment from Xanthe's therapist triggered some of the earlier experiences of racism she confronted during her schooling years in Australia.
It also exacerbated an already strong sense of misunderstanding around her grief.
“It was harder to talk about with anybody, because people understand grieving a death, but this was a death of a lifestyle, a big change in our relationship. I was no longer, I didn't see him every day, that kind of thing. So what are you whingeing about was the kind of thing that I felt myself but that I also felt I received from other people. Like it wasn't a tragedy, that's not a tragedy at all, it's just my loss of a sense of purpose.”
As well as feeling dismissed, both experiences speak to a loss of identity, a type of grief that culminates in being forced to re-imagine who you are and how you live your life.
A relationship breakdown can also culminate in this loss of identity.
This was certainly the case for Sam, who was ghosted by one of her best friends without any explanation, three months after her wedding.
It followed a trip to Melbourne with her new husband where they were visiting her friend.
“We had a trip planned down to Melbourne, it was around her birthday, so we said a few months in advance we'd love to catch up with you, book a bit of time for us on this day and we will catch up. On the day, she was sort of very wishy-washy, hard to get a hold of. We did end up meeting up for dinner, she had a whole bunch of her local friends there, who we knew she saw every week. So we kind of expressed to her it was a bit disappointing that she seemed to prioritise people she saw all the time over us, who had travelled interstate to see her. Said goodbye, left, we ended up going back home the next day, let things cool off for a bit. And then the next time I went to message her, I found I'd been blocked, deleted off every social media platform. I have not spoken to or heard from her since.”
Five years on, and Sam has never received an explanation.
She says this is the hardest part of the loss.
“I think not really knowing why. Did she just decide that the friendship had run the course? Oh, you're married now, you have a husband. Whatever. Was it something I did? Did I offend her or upset her? yeah, I think I really struggled with just not having any reason, and my mind being able to run off with all the reasons it could create, whether they were true or had any basis in reality or not. I guess she, for her, there was a sense of finality, she blocked me, she'd made that decision, she got to end it on her terms. And I was just left there, dealing with the fallout on my own.”
Relationship counsellor Ms Bennett says the grief is often exacerbated where there is uncertainty and confusion around the loss.
“You know, sometimes you kind of both agree, 'okay, this isn't working for either of us'. But quite often it doesn't work as simply as that. It will be one person pulling away, whereas the other person still wants to stay in it. With grief, we can go through the traditional stages of it, and kind of understanding and accepting the loss, is really quite a fundamental part of that grief process. And when we can't understand it, it makes it harder to accept. So we almost kind of get stuck at that point, and then it's hard to go through the rest of the emotions that can help it settle.”
Sam says she was in a depressive mood for weeks following the loss.
She describes going through different cycles of grief, including experiencing anger and hurt, thoughts about reaching out, as well as a deep questioning of self-worth.
“At the time, I was a newly-wed, blissful, happy. I definitely entered sort of depression mode, didn't want to go out, didn't want to see other friends, didn't want to reach out to anyone, really withdrew into myself a lot. Lots of questioning myself, and negative self-talk about it, in sort of a trying to process what happened, questioning it, and turning the blame onto myself, taking fault for it. And so I definitely think it affected my overall behaviour and mood for a while.”
But Sam did find another, more unconventional, way to navigate her grief.
“One thing I've done recently which has helped me accept it and move on and get a bit of closure, my Hens party was a paint and sip event, I've still got all the canvases from it, I've painted over hers, with just layers and layers of paint. And I'm just trashing the canvas at the moment. that's been a little bit therapeutic and felt quite good. So I just painted like at first layers and layers of white wasn't;t covering it up. So I got out the black, covered it completely. And then it's just been any time I feel like picking up a brush I can go and add something just as, and knowing what's underneath there is a little bit therapeutic of well this is symbolically burying that part of my life now. So that has been a nice little experiment in closure I guess.”
These rituals are something Ms Bennett sees as an important part of the healing process.
“I think that it's such a personal thing, the way that feels right for you. You know, some people burn things, they kind of clear our and throw things away. I think that whatever feels respectful for your own feelings, and isn't hurtful for the other. So doing something for yourself, so you're not going to be sending them hurtful messages and harassing them in that respect. So doing something that is just for yourself, that helps you come to terms with the loss, is important.”
But there can still be painful reminders, even once this loss is acknowledged.
This is certainly the case for Hillary.
“Something that's very hard for me is to listen to music, especially things I have played in that group. It's full of memories, so lots of very physical and tactile memories as well. So it's very hard to listen to it without feeling very upset. I went to one of their shows and cried the whole way through, so I don't think I can do that anymore. There's just this big sense of having lost something really, really precious.”
Our next episode will look at the concept of ecological grief, the feelings of despair, anxiety and loss which characterise concerns around climate change and our environment.
