By Anna May
Sometimes I don’t want to be hopeful. Sometimes people’s kind words and gestures, with the best intent in the world, can completely miss the mark. Being told to focus on the positives can feel infuriating and insensitive.
I think it’s also really important to acknowledge those times where hope is the last thing we want to hear about. When we simply want the utter devastation of a situation to be allowed.
(Sometimes these words can be really helpful, but that’s not what this post is about)
The Student Grief Network is all about hope, really. It’s about finding meaning within loss and connecting to the good in life again, despite the challenges we are experiencing.
But I think it’s also really important to acknowledge those times where hope is the last thing we want to hear about. When we simply want the utter devastation of a situation to be allowed.
To let our grief take up all the space that it needs, without following it with a disclaimer of ‘I’ll be okay though’ or ‘but there are still things to be grateful for’.
To say, yes, this is really shit, and right now, I can’t see how things will be good again.
I wonder if these moments – being fully immersed in the heaviness with no need for silver linings – can actually allow us to fully process our loss, and start to feel genuinely better (not a fake-it-til-you-make-it version).
What do you think?