Dear Grief Guide, I’m Criticizing Myself For Grieving Wrong

A grieving mom struggles with perfectionism after the death of her adult son. I read her anonymous letter and then offer her practical tools and compassionate wisdom for growing through her grief.

Dear Grief Guide is a weekly advice podcast where I answer anonymous letters from people feeling lost, stuck, or overwhelmed in the midst of grief.

Music © Adi Goldstein, Used with Permission

Transcript

Hello and welcome to Dear Grief Guide,

A podcast where each week I answer one anonymous letter from a listener feeling lost,

Stuck,

Heartbroken,

Or overwhelmed in the midst of grief.

My name is Shelby Forsythia.

I'm a grief coach and author,

And I'm here to help you create a life you love from the life loss forced you to live.

Let's get to today's letter.

Dear Grief Guide,

I recently lost my adult child,

Alex,

To an aggressive form of brain cancer.

We had a close bond even after he left home,

Which was both lucky and intentional.

Lucky because I know that not every child wants to be friends with their parents when they grow up,

And intentional because between the three of us,

Myself,

Alex,

And his father,

We all continued calling and planning get-togethers through the years.

Sometimes we'd play board games and end the evening in tears because we were laughing so hard.

Sometimes we'd have catch-up phone calls that turned into discussions about how Alex was raised and what we both wish could have gone differently back then.

While we had our disagreements,

We always listened with compassion and an eagerness to understand each other.

I did my best to meet him with honesty,

Respect,

And love.

He was the center of my life,

And the boy who made me a mother.

I miss him so much.

What complicates my grief,

And the reason I'm writing to you,

Is the internal struggle I face.

I've always strived to do the right thing,

Even when others see it as choosing the hard way over the easy way,

Or putting in more effort unnecessarily.

It's little things,

Like adjusting a crooked picture frame on the wall,

But it's big things too,

I'm finding.

Like grieving.

Since Alex's passing,

I find myself regularly criticizing myself for getting grief wrong.

Whenever I'm faced with a decision,

Whether it's cleaning out Alex's childhood room,

Or sending a text to his partner,

I take an action and then immediately beat myself up mentally for the choice I've made.

How could I box up his clothes when I loved him so much?

Why did I send the phrase,

This is so hard,

To his boyfriend when there are so many more comforting things to say?

It never ends.

And even if I did make a different decision,

I know I would still criticize myself for it.

If I left his room exactly as it is,

I would berate myself for not moving forward and not honoring one of my personal values,

Which is to offer things that are no longer needed to people who can really make use of them.

Alex's family and friends have already claimed they're favorite and most treasured items of his.

It just seems like there's no right option,

No matter what I do.

The critical voice in my head is relentless,

Questioning every tear shed,

Every major and minor decision,

Every interaction with my husband,

Friends,

Family,

And coworkers.

It's as if I'm failing some invisible standard of how grief should unfold.

How do I turn off this critical voice in my head?

I want to navigate my grief authentically,

Embracing the pain without judgment.

I want to celebrate Alex's life and the love we shared,

Acknowledging both the beauty and complexity of our relationship.

Yet,

This constant self-criticism is hindering my ability to heal.

Your guidance would mean the world to me,

Especially as I strive to understand that there's no right or wrong way to grieve.

I know it to be true,

But day by day,

I'm struggling to live it.

With gratitude,

Perfectionist Parent Oh hi there,

Perfectionist Parent.

I know this one.

I'm not saying I know the answer and it's the right answer,

Which is probably disappointing for you,

But I know the experience of which you speak.

This sense of being haunted,

Being berated,

Having this parrot on your shoulder or this nag on your shoulder of the inner critic,

Especially when it comes to grief.

I distinctly remember speaking to a mother and daughter at one point who were grieving the deaths of their father and husband,

Respectively,

And they were distressed because they were both people in education.

They were in the academic field and they could not make sense of their grief.

It was not logical to them.

Their inner critics were saying,

It doesn't make sense.

It doesn't make sense.

It doesn't make sense.

Seeing the signs,

Feeling him,

Seeing the symbols,

Understanding on some spiritual or emotional level that he's present,

But mentally and physically comprehending that he's not here,

It doesn't make sense.

And there was a deep,

Deep sense of distress that grief did not make sense.

It was incomprehensible.

And so there was this voice in their head of like,

No,

That's not real.

That can't be possible.

You're just making it up.

This harsh,

Critical voice that stepped in and wanted them to know that what they were thinking was illogical and therefore wrong.

And I know this is a slightly different inner voice than what you're experiencing.

But when we were in the call together,

What we uncovered is that this inner voice in kind of unpacking the purpose of its existence and perhaps even where it came from,

Was to protect them from falling for a scam,

From believing in magic,

From being disappointed.

This inner critic,

This inner voice was doing its best in the only way it knew how to protect them from more pain than they were already experiencing.

And when this landed and they recognized that this inner critic or this inner balloon pricker,

As I once heard it called,

Was there trying its damnedest to help them heal and to help them cope,

But it was actually painful for them to have this inner critic present.

We found a way for them to acknowledge the voice of the inner critic or the inner cynic,

I suppose we could call this as well.

And also acknowledge that what they're experiencing in their grief may very well be illogical.

And that's okay.

It's a part of grief.

Some of the very hardest sheer nature of grief embedded into the fabric of grief is our inability to understand loss,

Why,

How,

To what end.

So to get to your inner critic here,

Perfectionist parent,

I wonder if its purpose is a similar one,

If this berating of you for cleaning out Alex's room,

Or for sending what sounds like heartfelt empathy to his partner is an attempt in some way to try to protect you from feeling more pain,

From being in more pain than you're already in,

Like if you could make the right decisions when it comes to your grief,

Somehow magically,

You would no longer be in pain,

You could get over it,

You could overcome the obstacle,

You could come out the other side to this bright,

Shiny future where pain with every decision you make did not exist.

And I wonder what would happen with this inner critic,

If you kind of like sat down and had a little conference call with it and said,

Okay,

Here's the deal.

Whether I clean out his room,

Or don't clean out his room,

There is pain in both decisions.

There is pain in every direction.

What decision will we make now with that?

And this is a rude awakening,

This can feel like a harsh reality,

Especially in the mind heart body soul of someone who has titled themself a perfectionist,

There will be pain,

There will be wounds with every decision you make.

In cleaning out his room,

There is the agony of boxing up his clothes.

In leaving his room exactly the same way as it is now,

There's the agony of passing by the room and potentially for you based on the values you've shared,

Of,

You know,

Passing things on to people who can use them and,

And allowing yourself that knowledge and wisdom is the guilt of not giving these things to people who can actually make use of them.

And feeling potentially selfish,

That inner critic might say,

For not living up to your highest ideals and values.

So if I was in a coaching session with you,

Perfectionist parent,

I would ask you,

You know,

Inner critic,

Why are you here?

How are you serving her?

What what are you helping her accomplish in her grief?

What is it all for?

What is your role?

What are you doing here?

And then,

Maybe together,

Perfectionist parent,

We could break it to the inner critic that there is going to be pain either way.

So if that's the case,

What new rules would you like to operate by?

If the purpose of the inner critic shifts from,

I am here to help her avoid pain,

To I am here to help her live up to her highest values,

Even if there's pain involved,

Ah,

All of a sudden,

We give the inner critic a new job.

They are no longer scanning scenery,

Scanning the environment,

Checking for how do we avoid pain?

How do we avoid metaphorically getting our legs stuck in a bear trap?

My dear inner critic,

We will get our leg stuck in a bear trap at one point or another in our grief experience,

We will feel pain.

We will step on a branch in the woods and get scooped up into some giant net.

But in that moment where we are feeling pain with a decision,

What will we do next that lives up to our highest ideals?

Perhaps you prepare for the journey,

The inner critic can help you gather bandages and come up with coping mechanisms that can help you process pain.

That is a fantastic redirection of the inner critic.

Perhaps the inner critic can say,

Okay,

I am in pain,

But what are my highest values?

If it's community,

Maybe you're calling for help.

If it is,

You know,

Passing things on to others so that they can use them,

Perhaps it's learning more about grief or connecting with other people who have lost a child so you can pass on what you know about cleaning out a room with another mother who's trying desperately to do the same and doesn't know where to start.

Maybe you can be that witness for her.

What other values do you hold,

Perfectionist parent,

Because I know you have a lot of them.

You have been operating your life by values for years and years,

Probably even decades.

If I had to guess,

I don't know you,

But I'm going to make a guess here.

What gentle redirection can you offer this inner critic so that its focus is no longer how do I keep her from being in pain?

Because the pain is inevitable.

You are no longer solving an equation for pain.

Instead of saying solve for X,

Solve for pain,

Impossible in grief world,

You cannot solve for pain.

There will be pain,

No matter which path you take.

And that is okay.

And it doesn't mean it's your fault.

And there's nothing wrong with you.

And it doesn't mean you're getting grief wrong or that you are bad at grieving.

It is a part of the experience of grief is for pain to be knitted into and woven into the experience of losing someone you love.

I would worry if you were not in some level of pain,

Perfectionist parent,

I do not wish pain on you.

But it is comprehensible to me that you might be in pain on some level for a long time,

As I am in some level of pain for a very long time.

After the death of my mother,

It softens,

It has different edges.

Now it has different flavors.

It comes up at different times for different reasons.

It is not the same acute,

Agonizing pain I was experiencing in the early months and years after her death.

But I could still call it pain.

I still meet it,

It still comes into my periphery or right in front of my freaking face.

And I'm like,

There is pain right there,

That my mom is dead,

And she's still dead,

And she will always be dead.

There is pain there for me.

And it cannot be erased.

And in living up to my highest values,

I have found a way,

Instead of solving for pain,

To integrate pain or to work with pain,

Or to work around to make plans that acknowledge and incorporate pain,

Pain is coming along for the ride.

All right,

What else are we packing in the car,

So that we are dealing with the fact that pain inevitably exists.

You know,

Logically,

Perfectionist parent,

That there is no right or wrong way to grieve.

Which is another way of saying,

No matter which decision I make,

There will be pain either way.

But there will also,

And here's the other thing I need your inner critic to know,

There will also be progress either way.

Whatever decision you make,

However long it takes you to make it,

There is also progress here in the midst of the pain.

And sometimes we get so busy trying to solve for pain,

That we neglect to see the very real steps forward we are making in our grief.

And maybe that's a gentle redirection your inner critic could use as well.

Not just what are my values,

But how have I already moved towards them with these decisions,

I may not have freed myself from pain,

I may never free myself from pain.

But how in my decisions that I'm making every single day,

Am I moving towards my values and moving forward in my grief,

Because I guarantee there is progress here,

You have already made so much,

And you will make more.

And I wonder just how you can redirect your inner critic to become someone who has less of a posture of lording over you and telling you how it should be and telling you everything you're getting wrong,

And comes along beside you,

And is more of an assistant,

Asking perfectionist parent,

What do you need?

What are your values?

How have we already made progress so far?

Look at this data I've collected,

Look how well we're doing.

Where would you like to go next?

I'm on your side,

As opposed to I am against you.

Because when you're already grieving,

That's a very difficult energy to reckon with.

I wish you so much grace,

Just armfuls of it if I could shower it on you right now.

Because dealing with perfectionism and grief is so incredibly hard,

Having an inner critic when you are already doing the inner work of grieving is so hard.

So I wonder if you can have a conference call with your inner critic,

Sit across from it say,

I'm reassigning you to a new department and invent one that feels like an assist to you,

Like a guide of your values,

And where you'd like to go.

One that is more focused on aiding you than it is to tearing you down or keeping you stuck.

Yes,

Yes,

Heaps and heaps of grace your way.

Thank you so much for writing in today.