My husband has repeatedly suggested I use what I already know as a thanatologist, and write a post without doing any research. That sounded quite boring, as I already know what I know, and I want to know more! What I was left with was my knowledge and myself. So here we go…
A post about a topic on which I need not do any research:
Productivity
and
Grief
After listening to a podcast interview with
, author of the Substack The Well Guide, I read her book Toxic Productivity. I recognized myself in most every chapter, and how my constant need for productivity went beyond my obsessive compulsive personality1 that bubbles below the surface.This caused me to reflect on how my need for productivity expands to how I grieve, and I identified clients of mine who reflect my grieving style. These clients don’t just want to talk about their grief, they want to do something about their grief. They want timelines, deadlines, homework, and perfect grades. Something to show that they’re really trying to tackle their grief.
One way to give a client something tangible to work with is by assigning grief exercises. I love grief exercises. Creating and customizing them for individual client’s needs and circumstances challenges me mentally and clinically, and allows me to focus on the uniqueness of the person’s loss.
Grief exercises can be enlightening, therapeutic, and galvanizing when a client feels stuck in their grief. I once had a client whom came in one day considering ending our sessions. They were deeply struggling to accept the impending death of their parent, and felt we hadn’t made any progress. I also felt I wasn’t helping them, and understood their desire to move on. So I offered, as an alternative to ending our work together, to do something completely different.
They continued to see me for the next several months, and in these sessions, we stopped talking. I instead assigned them a grief exercise, they would complete it in session as we sat in silence, and to wrap up our 50 minutes, they would tell me about what they wrote. It was great. This individual didn’t need to talk to a grief therapist, they needed someone alongside them as they internally processed their grief.
Grief exercises are good, productivity is good, too, but as a “highly productive person” whom is also a grief therapist, I once became a taskmaster of my own grief. I assigned myself exercise after exercise that I had to do, and if I couldn’t do it, I was in serious trouble (or so I told myself). I soon grew tired of my grief challenges and recognized that they weren’t helping me, nor was there a prize for putting myself through them.
With the way grief has been presented to the public, it’s easy to think there is a finish line for grief that can be crossed. If you’re one who relishes a good sense of accomplishment like myself, you might strive to cross that finish line in record time.
Dr. William Worden outlined a grief theory called the tasks of mourning. These tasks include:
Accepting the reality of the death
Feeling the pain of the loss
Readjusting to a world in which the person who died is missing
Finding an enduring connection with the deceased while embarking on a new life
This is a very helpful outline of how we move through our grief, and a useful tool in assessing where we might be stuck. However, put in the hands of someone who derives their sense of self worth from doing and not being, Dr. Worden’s theory retrogresses to a checklist.
Just as with Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief, these tasks are not always linear. You may have allowed yourself to feel the pain of the loss (task one) once the numbness subsided, but the following summer, attending a wedding without your husband is too painful a prospect, and you numb yourself out again in anticipation of the event. Or you think you’ve adjusted to a world without a mom to call on for comfort (task three), and then Mother’s Day rolls around and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Even task four can be elusive; you’ve thrown yourself into this “new life” and you get burnt out. Enough with the salsa classes, dating apps, and home projects. You want your old life back. The one that includes the person you love and miss.
The meandering nature of our grief makes it difficult to check off a list when the same tasks keep being added back on. This can be concerning and frustrating for the griever who struggles with toxic productivity. “I thought I was done with this,” is a refrain I’ve heard more than once.
The problem is, that person who passed, they just keep being dead. It’s exhausting.
It’s been five years and you’re truly doing well, you graduate from your seven-years-long doctoral program! This is an exhilarating accomplishment, but you can’t share it with them. They were there with you through the first two years of research and hard work, and now you can’t tell them you did it. Task two, feeling the pain of the loss, strikes again.
Here’s the good news about the perpetuity of death: There is no rush. You don’t have to do all the {grief} things today, or this month, or this year. You have all the time in the world to grieve. So breathe a {sad} sigh of relief.
Grieving is hard work. That’s why we call it grief work. Give yourself credit for doing this work, and be gracious with yourself in the process. Periodically feeling the pain, disorientation, and disbelief of loss for the rest of your life is not failure. It’s human connection, and it’s love. So, my highly productive grievers out there, go easy on yourself.
An important point to share. I appreciate your vulnerable self analysis. Grief work sounds perfect for some.