My first Christmas of my grief journey felt like an out of body experience. I had attended a grief support group on tips to "survive the holidays" and it felt like I was doing everything but that. Thoughts swirled loudly and violently through my head, as I sat silently, pondering how my life looked so different this year compared to last.
"How could I possibly be celebrating today, with such a missing part of the family."
"I cannot believe there are family members at this party who are smiling. I can't remember the last time I smiled and meant it."
"I should have driven separately to this dinner so I could leave right now."
"Why should I even bother with presents this year, there aren't any from my loved one, and I can't give any to my loved one. I wonder what he would have gotten me if he was here."
"The best present would be spending five more minutes with him. I don't care about the new board game or books or coffee cup wrapped up under the tree. They aren't him, and I just want him back."
Throughout the whole holiday season, I longed for a sense of control.
My boss made my work schedule and I went to work, regardless of how I felt... because someone told me it was my shift to work.
A few meals were made for me, so I ate what was given to me... because that's what someone else chose to cook.
Tree lighting ceremonies and remembrance events were held, and my family attended... because someone took the time to organize the event and planned it for us.
Traditions continued... because someone would notice if they hadn't, and my participation felt mandatory, as per the tradition.
These choices were all things that felt totally out of my control. I could have chosen to call in sick to work. I could have chosen not to eat the meals that were given to me. I could have chosen to stay home from the ceremonies and events. I could have chosen to skip the traditions.
But yet, somehow in my state of grief, it felt like I had no autonomy. Like someone was directing my life through expectations and I was just a programmable robot who was made to do as I was expected.
Taking Control: What you can control in grief
Knowing what I do now, I would have done things differently. I would have stayed home from ceremonies when I didn't feel up to it, or when I felt my time would have been better spent resting. I would have been honest when people asked how I was doing, rather than forcing a fake smile and letting them think I was doing well.
Taking control can be difficult. In a society filled with expectations and people watching as we grieve, it can feel like an immense pressure to show up how people want us to or expect us to.
Focusing on what we can control during the holidays is a huge step to surviving the toughest days. Saying no to parties, deciding what traditions are important for you to continue or stop doing, choosing which people to interact with, and setting boundaries for self care are all important ways to take control of your life and your grief.
Remembering what you can control in the holiday grief can reframe our focus and allow us to rebuild our energy for the things that matter most. This can rebuild our autonomy and bring us back to a foundation of healing. Whichever areas you feel are best to have control over, your grief will not be forgotten.
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