Dealing with Brief-Grief

There is no target audience for this blog entry, but it is something I would have gained from by reading a year ago.

Pre-note: I have been thinking about writing this for about two weeks. I'm not entirely sure if it will make sense, but given how unread these tend to be, I don't think it matters too much.

This blog was initially titled 'Dealing with Grief' but I think Grief refers more to lasting periods of pain such as death, I think what I write would be quite harsh and unrealistic in approaching those situations. Instead Brief-Grief should address loss, but actually also trauma. (Yes, sorry, I made a new word and feeling based on another one therefore I'm using the wrong word but deal with it.)

Sometimes really bad things happen.

But when you're a kid you don't really get taught that very much. You're spoon-fed a diet of Disney Princesses marrying rich men and living happily ever after. There's no Disney story which ends with the ugly step-mother ruining the Princesses' life and said Princess attending life long therapy sessions. (None that I've read, at any rate, but if you can recommend one I'd be more than grateful)

Based on this unrealistic expectation that you'll always land on your feet, every bad life lesson you learn generally comes from experience.

To cut to the chase: almost a year ago something bad happened. I don't talk about it much and this is not where I'd do so anyway. What I want to get at is the way I chose to, and how other people choose to deal with these situations.

Distraction: "Something bad is going on, but it's okay because I am not going to think about it. I am going to think about something else."

My favourite and least favourite approach to these situations. An effective and unreliable quick fix (but don't we all love those so much? - how many pubs in Britain...?)

What you probably shouldn't do is go "LA LA LA I'M NOT LISTENING EVERYTHING IS OKAY" and throw yourself immediately into something else whilst still in a huge state of shock. But - oh wait - that's what I did. A wonderful quick fix with disastrous results.

Bitterness: "Something bad has happened to me, and I am going to use it as an excuse to inflict misery upon other people. Poor me."

I'd like to think I didn't do this, but I apologise to anyone who might beg to differ. It's, in my opinion, the ugliest way to deal with pain. Someone in a crying heap may be hard to watch, but terrifically bitter people are impossible to co-exist with.

Crying heaps: "Something bad has left me with over-productive tear-ducts."

Now, I'll admit, for a prolonged period of time, people approaching a bad situation in this way would be bloody awful to try and get along with. But it is certainly a more honest approach than Distraction, and a less arrogant approach than Bitterness. A bit of being a crying heap should easily facilitate the emotional release essential to --

Bucking up: "Something bad has happened, it's a shame, I've weighed out how best to approach the situation and I'm going to continue my life in the most suitable way possible because essentially, shit happens."

It is almost always applicable to say 'something worse has happened to someone somewhere'. Anyone living in England can't have it too rough given that we're a democratic nation with free clean water, healthcare and sanitation. Sure, it's not that helpful, but it's true. Some time after a sufficient period of mourning, everyone needs to buck up (or you might say 'suck it up'/'grow some balls' - your call) and move on.

To be honest, a balance of the first three with large emphasis on the fourth approach, might be pretty healthy. Everyone deals with stuff their own way. There are several ways I've not even mentioned here, frankly I don't have the time.

Last year I confused Distraction with Bucking Up, disregarded any Crying Heap approach - basically behaved like a cyborg, and spent the last year having recurring dreams where I revisit the event. In retrospect, I don't think I'd change what happened, but I'd deal with my reaction to it differently. (And it's okay to realise that now, because I'm young and there's plenty more bad things waiting to happen! Bring it.)

In an attempt to save this from being a whiny, self pitying blog entry, what I am trying to say is that it's okay to be upset. It's even okay to be bitter - just try not to die that way, it's not so cool. Whilst trying to avoid specific details within this blog, it's been hard to write, and so, here is something more accessible to everyone:

A Brief Musical Guide to Dealing with Brief-Grief (In No Particular Stage Order)

1. Bob Dylan - Blonde on Blonde
   In my opinion, Bob Dylan's best album, with some rather massive hints at grief in the form of relationships that ended and being okay with it. Not just for break ups, Bob Dylan is like an anthropologist sharing his findings about humans and pain in musical form. This might go somewhere between the Crying Heap and Bucking Up stages, but it's a wonderful album in general.
2. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
   Unfortunately you've probably already heard Skinny Love and you might be an unlucky one who thinks it's actually by Birdy. Well it's not, it's from the 2007 debut album released by Bon Iver which will definitely make you cry if you let it. I'm not sure I'd recommend it for those days where you're aiming for a 'happy go lucky' thing...
3. Frank Turner - Love, Ire & Song + The First Three Years
   In a stage of Bucking Up, with a smidgen of Bitterness, you need Frank Turner! With lyrics like "let's refuse to live and learn, let's make all our mistakes again" he manages to somehow actually make you feel okay about the fact you'll go through the same shit again one day. And he reminds you to have fun in the meantime.
4. Death Cab For Cutie - Plans
   Maybe I just wanted an excuse to drag this beauty of an album into this, because I'd have to give it a whole new category called 'Reflecting' - with brilliant tracks like "Someday You Will Be Loved", and lyrics about realizing certain things aren't meant to be.
5. Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend
   This album has pretty much no hint of grief (apart from the line in 'Campus' - "how am I supposed to pretend/I never want to see you again?") which is exactly what you need eventually! Distraction and Bucking Up, to a beautifully chirpy array of sounds. Just wonderful.