Okay, I'm Grieving - Now What?

June 3, 2024, 8:40 am. I am at home, getting ready for work. I typically leave my house between 8:30 am and 9:00 am (lucky, I know). My routine was completely normal that day: I woke up, let the dogs out for a potty break, fed the dogs, then started to get dressed. I was moving a bit slower that morning as I had stayed up late to watch the Dallas Stars lose and end their playoff run - very disappointing as they were Stanley Cup hopefuls! Other than this, the morning went on as normal and I was preparing to leave the house. I was in my bathroom putting on makeup with the doors open when I heard my younger dog, Taco, making odd noises. I looked over to see him tapping his feet up and down in a panic, my other dog, Luna, lying in distress on the floor. The next two hours went by in a blur, but by 10:30 am, Luna was gone.

Luna was 12 and we knew her health was slowly fading, but we had no indication that we'd be saying goodbye so soon and we certainly didn't know it would be that day. I was incredibly grief stricken, my best friend gone in a flash, essentially without warning. I cancelled my sessions the next two days and the vacation I was scheduled to take later that week. By day 3 I found myself continuing to struggle with what had happened and it began to hit me that these events may have been even more traumatic than I had originally given them credit for - this wasn't just grief, it was grief and trauma rolled up into one ugly ball.

Now mind you, I'm a therapist with pushing a decade of experience, I should know how to manage grief and trauma. However, when it was me in the grief, I felt completely lost. I began to reach out to all of my therapist friends for support (one of the perks of being a therapist - free therapy on demand from lots of view points). My therapists were able to normalize what I was going through and even help remind me of all the ways grief can manifest. But even my most gifted and talented therapist friends weren't giving me what I was looking for - what was I supposed to DO? I needed something to do!

Now let me first say, there's nothing to really do. Grief is gonna grief; it will come in waves and it will hurt forever. Our grief is a direct reflection of our love, you do not get one without the other. That said, we absolutely can work through the pain and there were behaviors I did that helped me put the grief into action, which helped me feel a slight sense of control in my world. Here are some of the actions that I found helpful:

• moving my body

  • this mostly looked like walks, but also included deep, slow stretches, tapping, and dancing

• deep breathing

  • NOT meditating - that was too intense for me at the time, but simply being with my breath and reminding myself that I was, in fact, safe

• kickboxing

  • punches were given, screams were screamed, tears were cried. I was somewhat worried about what my neighbors might think if they heard me, but at the end of the day, I needed this kind of primal release.

• journaling

  • and LOTS of it. I wrote out every thought and feeling I had. I also made sure to write out the events of the day we lost Luna. Research has shown that being able to put traumatic events into a chronological story helps our brains process distressing information.

• thank you letters

  • I wrote thank you letters to Lunas doctors and vet techs. I also made sure to thank those that supported me through that time. gratitude goes a long way!

• nature

  • never underestimate the power of grass, trees, and sunshine

• tetris

  • now the research on this is a bit odd and I wouldn't call it formal research (from what I can find), but there's a suggestion that being able to "organize" and "put things in their proper place" can help the brain process trauma, much like writing the events in chronological order. I don't know if it's been proven for Tetris, but I will say I played the zen version of the game and found it comforting, so take that for what it's worth.

• closing rituals

  • this can include any number of activities. for me it meant making sure I had a way to honor and remember her (a clay imprint of her paw lives on my shelves), and designing a tattoo to get in her honor.

• letter to the one gone

  • there was one other time in my life that a death turned to trauma in my brain (that's a story for another day) and my therapist at that time had me write that individual a letter. Writing that letter was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but as soon as I read it to her in session, I felt a release and knew I'd be okay. I wrote Luna a letter expressing my love and gratitude for her and apologizing for not being able to spare her pain. I have no proof she heard me, but I felt it.

• pictures

  • this was an activity for much later, but being able to look at pictures of happier times, telling stories about her, and keeping her memory alive continue to heal me to this day.

I have wanted to write this blog for 11 months now. Every time I started to I found myself wondering if I would be judged or criticized for reacting this way to losing a dog, but I truly believe our pets are our family, and on June 3, 2024 I lost my best girl. Some of what is written here is researched, some is anecdotal, but I hope any part of it can be helpful to someone walking the path of grief. I'd like to remind you that a loss is a loss and the only way through it is to go through it. So whether you're grieving the loss of a child, a parent, a pet, a job, or a relationship, your grief is valid. Take care of yourself, lean on others, and try any of the above suggestions. If you'd like to offer other ideas, please leave those in the comments and let this be a living document.

With love,

Shelly