Our shared grief
Kirsten Maarschalk
Founder of Pink Soda Marketing | Strategist | Idea Generator | Sucker For Good Marketing |
I'm experiencing disenfranchised grief.
And so are you.
We all are.
"Disenfranchised grief refers to a loss that's not openly acknowledged, socially mourned or publicly supported,"
Unlike the grief we know and understand, that is obviously painful and worth mourning, disenfranchised grief is often overlooked and laden with feelings of guilt.
Examples of disenfranchised grief you may have experienced lately:
The loss of a colleague who you greeted every morning but didn't spend time with after work. The sudden tragic news might have shocked you to your core and every morning when you arrive at work, you're greeted with the bitter reminder instead. The loss.
The other reminder you might have pacing through your mind is that you weren't that close to this person. It's not like you knew enough about them to have the right to claim mourning. It's just not your place to mourn. Other people are experiencing the heaviness and anguish far more than you are, so you shouldn't acknowledge the loss. It's silly and victimised.
That part is the guilt.
Here's another scenario:
The loss of security in your job. It probably doesn't need to be said that millions of businesses and careers were lost overnight at the start of the pandemic. Because the numbers were in high volume - you were not the only one. This too brings up thoughts of "I'm not the only victim here, we're all in the same boat so there's no room for my grief. Others have it worse." Plus with soaring levels of unemployment, "you should be so lucky you even have a job."
The loss of a sense safety in your environment. Being a victim of or even witnessing or hearing about an act of crime in the places you frequent. Does this sound familiar: "At least they didn't {hurt you/ rape you/ murder you}"? Unfortunately that is the positive outtake we use as a bandaid to conceal the raw wound. And if you weren't the actual victim but just the witness, you might feel that even bringing up your trauma is silly because "imagine what the victim feels!" Again, we cast aside the acknowledgment of grief and cover it in guilt - you're still alive. Be grateful.
I can't think of a person who hasn't experienced something similar lately.
These and many other seemingly irrelevant and increasingly recurrent events have caused an egregious wave of disenfranchised grief over the last 2 years. Which undoubtedly explains increased levels of suicide, psychosis and illness.
I love this excerpt from Glennon Doyle's book Untamed:
"Whether it's a sliver of envy that lasts an hour or a canyon of grief lasting decades - its revolutionary. When that kind of transformation happens, it becomes impossible to fit into your old conversations or relationships or patterns or thoughts or life anymore. You are like a snake trying to fit into old, dead skin or a butterfly trying to crawl back into its cocoon."
So how do we deal with disenfranchised grief? I'm certainly not a qualified professional to diagnose or treat any of this, but from my research on the topic I've found this guidance:
Firstly, we need to be accepting of the loss. Things aren't the same and never will be but that's when transformation happens. We need to acknowledge that something seemingly small might have had an impact on us that is different to how it impacted others.
We also need to be understanding of each other. Empathy should be emphasised with friends, family, colleagues and staff. Someone else might be hurting more over something than you are.
We need to be emotionally agile enough to think before responding to something someone has said or done. We must think "do I feel this way as a reaction to a previous trauma or is this person reacting this way because of their experienced trauma".
All in all we need to be kinder and more considerate to ourselves and others. There is no doubt we are going through a rather tumultuous era, so let's get through it with patience and compassion.
Final reminder: It's OK to feel the way you do.