I think most people who haven’t experienced grief or loss might think of grief in the following descriptions: immense sorrow, tears, black clothes, devastation, the five stages of grief. And usually along the timeline of the first year or (if we’re lucky) a few years after that. So, if someone doesn’t fit that description or timeline, it doesn’t compute or there are questions (hopefully never said to your face, of course!): maybe something is wrong with you, maybe you need help, maybe you didn’t love enough, shouldn’t you be better by now?

I’m now close to 2 years without our precious boy, so it’s coming to that stage where I’ve survived that long that it might slip some people’s minds that I’ve gone through something I’d never wish on my worst enemy. What they don’t realise is that I’ve “survived” or made it easy for people to forget because I’ve gotten so adapt at putting on a mask.

If you’ve experienced grief and loss, you’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s grief survival 101 when you have to keep getting out of bed or leaving the house each day. And for those who don’t know, if you want to understand a bit more about grief, then keep reading because today I’m going to talk about some of the many masks that grief might wear.

The Mask of Busyness

Or the mask of distraction.

The logic is that the busier you are, the less time/space you have to think about your loss and pain. So, we start cleaning the house obsessively, we throw ourselves into work, we say yes to every plan and fill up our diaries till there’s no space left to breathe. And it works great…until it doesn’t – a hard lesson I learnt after multiple breakdowns. Because all that, even for a person who isn’t grieving, never ends well.

So, if you know someone grieving who seems suspiciously “okay” and is bulldozing through work and life without stopping, that might be the mask of busyness that they’re wearing to hide or distract themselves from their grief.

The Mask of Anger

Grief and rage are close cousins. And if you’re a woman, our hormones don’t help either! Since losing Dorian, I’ve noticed that I’m definitely angrier or more easily angered about things than I used to be. And when I do get angry, my rage burns a lot hotter too. Worst of all, anger seems to be my body’s default when it’s under a high stress situation now.

These situations used to bring out the anxiety in me, but now even my anxiety manifests in anger. A part of me has realised that if I’m angry, I can function, and my body would rather the anger than feeling crippled and unable to do anything. Because it so strongly remembers that feeling – the pain and the helplessness – from losing someone you love.

Anger is very often dismissed or made uncomfortable, especially in women. Worst still, it’s often judged and rejected. Yes, long-term, sustained anger may not be the healthiest expression of grief, but anger is a normal expression of grief. Because underneath all that anger is love and pain that doesn’t know where to go. So, don’t judge or reject a grieving person for their anger or ask them to be less angry especially in that moment. Work with them, try and find out what’s triggered the anger or what they need to manage it.

The Mask of Joy

The most deceptive and dangerous mask of all. I’ve found this is a go-to not just for grief but even for depression, and I don’t think I’m alone in this especially when you consider some of the celebrities like Robin Williams and Owen Wilson. I’ve realised that sometimes the sadder I feel on the inside, the happier my mask is on the outside. It’s not just about hiding your feelings, but there’s also the thought that if you can fool everyone else, maybe you can fool yourself too.

But not all joy is a mask though. Sometimes, even in deep grief there can be moments of joy, because just like anger, at the root of joy is love. And also, because life has to continue as usual, and joy can never cease to exist in life. Cherishing precious memories, making new ones, funny or silly antics from another loved one; these are all moments of joy that can still occur in grief, even if it comes with guilt (but that might be a post for another time).

The Mask of “I’m Alright”

The most worn mask in public, and maybe the cruellest one.

“I’m okay.” “I’m doing alright.” “I’m getting there.” “I’ll be fine.”

Sometimes it’s protection – I don’t want to relive everything or run the risk of feeling worse or break down crying right now. Sometimes it’s exhaustion – I really don’t have the energy to talk about it or explain my grief, especially to someone who hasn’t felt it or doesn’t understand. And sometimes, it’s just…well, what else can we say, really? Are we really going to tell you exactly how we feel, make things awkward, or, worse, have to see the discomfort or pity on your face? It’s easier to just pretend we’re alright.

And look, if someone tells you they’re fine, maybe they could be. Or maybe they’re doing it for your sake rather than theirs. The best way to figure that out is to just double check; ask again – not in a way that pressures them, but just to say that you’re there for them, that they don’t need to pretend, that you’re a safe space, and that you’re willing and wanting to listen should they choose to share.

There are many more masks of grief (maybe I’ll do a Part 2 in the future), but these were the ones I believe to be most common, and the ones I wanted to bring awareness to.

If you’re no stranger to grief, then I hope this post helped you feel seen. I want you to know that there is no right or wrong way to grieve, and whatever mask you need to put on today to help you get through, that is okay. You are not broken, you are not failing, and you are not alone.

And if you’re supporting someone who’s grieving, then I hope this has given you a bit more insight into some of the different ways grief can manifest and how you can help them. The most important thing I can tell you though, is that you don’t need to fix it. Mainly because you can’t, but also because they don’t need you to and they’re not asking you to. Just be present with them, check in on them, keep remembering the person they lost, offer compassion not criticism, and most of all, don’t disappear because it’s uncomfortable.

Grief doesn’t have a timeline, and grief has many faces, but behind all of them is love, so hold onto that and respond in kind with love.

** This post was written based on my personal experience and is not intended as clinical advice. If you are struggling with grief and feel you need more support, then please reach out to your GP, a grief counsellor, or a support organisation such as Red Nose (Australia), SANDS, or Beyond Blue. You were never meant to carry this alone.