My favorite artist date is when I get to spend time in the city enjoying good food and live arts. Yesterday, I treated myself to Michael Cruz Kayne’s surprisingly cathartic, heart wrenching, yet hilarious comedy show, Sorry for Your Loss. It was part of the Kennedy Center’s Arts & Wellbeing programming. Kayne, a comedian and writer on The Late Show with Steven Colbert, responded to the tragic loss of his infant son by spotlighting the importance of discussing grief openly given how painful and isolating it can be. His viewpoint is based on the fact that everyone will die and experience grief at some point in life. He even created a podcast, A Good Cry, where he talks with friends, comedians, and others about grief.
I particularly resonated with a 2019 tweet Kayne shared during his comedy show:
this isn’t really what twitter is for, but ten years ago today my son died and I basically never talk about it with anyone other than my wife. it’s taken me ten years to realize that I want to talk about it all the time.
this is about grief
Kayne’s candor and openness about a deeply personal and difficult loss reminded me exactly why I have this blog. Grief is isolating. It is messy, difficult to process, and all consuming.
This blog is built off a different type of grief. I am fortunate enough to not have lost my daughter to her suicide attempt. I can still hug her, connect with her, and make new memories with her. Yet, I certainly have found myself moving through the various stages of grief, some of them out of order, and some of them lingering for a prolonged period. In fact, I find myself wanting to talk about it All. The. Time.
Sadly, I talk about it not only with close friends and family, but also those with whom I have more superficial relationships. Coworkers (not just work friends), ex-coworkers, people I’ve run into at a conference, those I haven’t seen in awhile, medical practitioners who are not treating me for my mental health, and even strangers in my group coaching cohort.
My grief and this experience has become a part of me. It is entangled in the other little things that made me who I am before the experience. It fundamentally changed me. If you ask how I am doing, or ask how my family is doing, then be ready for the response. Do you really want to know?
My need for discussion and to relate inspired this blog and motivates me to speak openly about the difficulties I’ve encountered along the way. Part of the desire to share is to raise awareness to the struggles of mental health, especially as a working mother in a stressful profession. I also want to do what I can to erase the stigma for other parents who are supporting their children through challenging times. I want my readers to feel less alone and not suffer in silence. Openness and vulnerability helps me to feel less alone.
Despite this, I find myself struggling with the concept of how much sharing is too much? I’ve shared before how my circle has narrowed during my healing process. I hear this is normal during a healing season. As best-selling author, psychotherapist, podcaster, and grief advocate, Megan Devine, shares in this blog post, “Grief changes your friendships: people you thought would hang beside you in anything turn dismissive, unable to hold their gaze on your pain. . .You never know who will come through and who will fade away. The only thing for sure is that grief will rearrange your address book: relationships change.”
Anyone going through depression or grief can tell you that a common internal thought pattern can be the fear of burdening others with their sorrows. The fear of being a burden or “too much” is real. I’ve been certain that this fear, whether realized or not, is the reason for these lost relationships. The change in my personal standards also most certainly played a role.
Yet, many resources on depression and grief advise on the importance of relying on community. After losing close relationships while grieving, it’s easier to share my struggles and confess my inner thoughts behind the protection of a computer screen. For this reason, I have been exploring the difference between trauma dumping and emotionally connecting so I can get more comfortable with asking for help.
Trauma Dumping
Talkspace defines trauma dumping as “unloading traumatic experiences on others without warning or invitation.” They explain that it is “done to seek validation, attention or sympathy” and occurs without the recipient’s consent, often at inappropriate times or places.
In polling others on the topic, I’ve learned it is important to check in with the person before doing so and to read their reactions to reduce the potential for crossing another person’s boundary. Trauma dumping can occur when sharing with people you don’t know and who don’t want to receive the information. It is a one-sided conversation that provides limited opportunity for reciprocal feedback or support.
Seeking and Receiving Emotional Support
As I shared last week, I am also learning that it is important to build an emotional support network when struggling with mental health. This is a soft spot for me after losing people who meant so much. The key is to first confirm that the person is resourced, able, and willing to provide emotional support. Emotional support includes a mutual exchange and request for support. It helps us manage emotions through listening and displaying empathy. Recent discussions with others on the topic have shown me that people are surprisingly open to wanting to help. Ideally, if the support person is not a mental health professional, then it is someone with whom you have a reciprocal and trusted relationship.
This resource from the Texas Health and Human Services provides helpful tips to remember when you are struggling to ask for help. Some of the standout tips that are particularly helpful for me are:
You and your feelings matter. Don’t wait to reach out.
Remember people want to help you.
Talk to someone who makes you feel comfortable.
Find an appropriate time to ask for help to ensure the person is able to support you the way you deserve.
Give concrete examples of how you have been feeling and what led to that feeling.
Be specific about what support you need and what help looks like for you.
When receiving support, be open and honest about what you have been struggling with and then share what you need in that moment. As this online guide on Psyche explains, remember that you are simply making a polite request and not a demand, so the other person may choose to say no. That isn’t a reason to deny yourself the opportunity for support. Don’t run into the trap of the following limiting beliefs that can prevent people from asking for help:
Asking for help means that you are weak,
Others will perceive you negatively because you are going through a difficult time,
Other people’s needs are more important than your own, or
The person will reject your request.
I give the above advice knowing that I myself do not always know how to ask for help when I need it. It is a difficult thing to do and I am learning how to do it myself, especially after doing so resulted in lost relationships. Despite this, I am learning that I am not an island and it is important to build my social support community.
In case if you missed them, here are resources I linked in this week’s blog:
Michael Cruz Kayne’s A Good Cry podcast
Megan Devine’s grief resources
Trauma Dumping (Talkspace)
How to Ask for Help (Texas Health and Human Services)
this is so helpful as I am navigating this thing that is part of me and that I am still grieving and will continue to do so my whole life most likely.
So beautiful and helpful. Thank you, Gwen. Your posts are incredibly generous.