by Joanna Williams, psychotherapeutic counsellor specialising in grief and loss
Issue 2 When it’s ok not to feel ok
In this regular blog I’ll be touching on different aspects of the grief associated with sight loss, and how to take the best care of yourself, wherever you are on your sight loss journey.
Zoom sessions are held on the second and fourth Monday of the month, and we have an in-person meeting in Kings Cross on Saturday 28th September.
When it’s ok not to feel ok
This week I’m reflecting on depression, or low mood, as a feature of grief.
After a loss of any kind, depression is perhaps the response we most expect: a persistent state of being which is characterised by despondency, perhaps tearfulness, and sadness that can often feel overwhelming. Very often this sadness is seen as a problem to be fixed, and while it can be of course highly distressing, in fact it is a natural response to loss or trauma.
Some situational depression, or low mood, can of course lift once time passes or the situation changes; it’s usually a bit more complex when it’s related to sight loss.
Just as with a bereavement, because the change is irreversible, the chances are the spells of low mood may stay around long term, perhaps even ambushing you at unexpected times, although hopefully they may become less frequent and / or intense as you learn coping strategies.
In our recent zoom session, participants shared their individual experiences of low mood. For some people, depression, anxiety, or other mental health struggles were sadly features of their life before sight loss; for others, the onset of visual impairment either prompted or exacerbated the experience of low mood. Some group members found it took years or even decades to turn a corner, in one case described as getting ‘fed up of being fed up’.
We found that acknowledgement is key, followed by self-compassion. This is in stark contrast to common responses to depression like avoidance, denial, or even shame. In practice this manifests in our internal narrative. So instead of hearing yourself think, ‘I’m ok, there’s nothing wrong with me,’ ‘If I ignore these feelings, they’ll go away,’ or even, ‘I shouldn’t be feeling like this,’ try telling yourself the following:
‘What I’ve experienced has been really difficult / traumatic for me.’
‘It’s natural to feel really sad about everything I’ve lost.’
‘It’s ok not to feel ok.’
While there’s a level of relief that comes with acknowledging your pain in this way, naturally nobody wants to sit in that pain long-term. So what helps?
For some people, talking therapy or even medication may ease the symptoms of depression; if you’ve suffered persistent low mood or a sense of hopelessness for two weeks or more, it is definitely worth checking in with your GP.
However, in very many cases, engaging in things that (a) combat the loneliness that comes with depression and (b) enhance your sense of identity and individuality, can provide pockets of mood-boosting enjoyment that work to offset the down days.
Examples include seeking opportunities for social connection; when mixing with sighted people, this might involve educating others regarding your needs and doing a bit of ‘prep’ ahead of events – even though this can feel exhausting, it can help ease social anxiety and enhance your enjoyment in the long run. Being part of a charity like Eye Matter obviously brings with it a huge sense of community and belonging, sharing experiences with others who have greater empathy for your situation.
Any activity that enhances your sense of yourself as an individual is also key to lifting your mood. This is quite simply about doing things that bring you joy, satisfaction, and empowerment, from having your nails done, to creating something, to discovering new apps that help you get around and explore the world safely and independently.
I hope this reassures you that you’re not alone, and that there are ways to move through and out of the fog of grief-related depression. Take care, until next time.
JW
Let’s get physical!
This week I have been thinking about the physical manifestation of grief, that is to say, what happens to us in our bodies when we experience loss of any kind and its associated trauma.
We often think of physical and mental health as being separate, when of course they are not only connected, but inseparable parts of the whole. When we are suffering emotionally, it tends to present in some part of our body, and of course when we are physically unwell it can cause huge mental distress.
In my experience people who are going through grief find themselves with a raft of physical symptoms, not all of which they immediately attribute to their loss. When we think of grief we might commonly think of things like crying and low mood. Perhaps we think of emotions like anger or denial.
Whilst all of these may be present, there might also be physical signs such as extreme tiredness; loss of appetite; aches and pains; muscle tension; racing heart or tightness in the chest; stomach upsets.
A lot of these feelings are familiar to anyone who suffers with anxiety. Anxiety and grief are closely linked. CS Lewis famously wrote, ‘No-one ever told me that grief felt so like fear…the same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning’.
In the case of living with sight loss, your practical fears may of course be well-founded, whether around day-to-day safety or around the questions posed by an uncertain future. Nevertheless, the fearfulness itself can become its own problem if ignored.
Recognising and acknowledging what is going on in your body is the first step to easing the discomfort. (Of course, any unexplained persistent physical symptoms you are concerned about should be investigated by a physician. We know that stress can affect the immune system and leave you more vulnerable to illness.)
In our zoom sessions, which we have been holding twice monthly since April, Eye Matter members discuss the topic at hand and generously share their own experiences, to help and reassure one another. This week, in our eighth meeting, more than one member shared how the loss of sight over a long period had required repeated adjustments, practically and emotionally, and that this constant state of vigilance was exhausting. They emphasised how it was important to acknowledge that what they were feeling was in fact grief and that it was okay to have those feelings.
Another member shared how much the practice of yoga had helped them, particularly when it comes to breathing. Mastering slow, controlled breathing can be so useful in terms of overcoming the physical feelings of panic such as held breath and thumping heart. Others discussed how regular practice, including at times you are not in distress, creates ‘muscle memory’ so that you have those calming breathing skills when you most need them. Psychologically too, noticing that your breathing slows simply because you are focusing on it creates good evidence that it is possible to gain control of your body’s physical responses to stress and fear. This builds confidence and a better mind-body connection.
As always, ‘what works’ is as unique as each individual, and sometimes requires trial and error. However, the most common tips for remaining healthy in body and mind are fresh air, gentle exercise, any activity that occupies the hands and / or brain, laughter, talking with a friend or therapist, and getting regular, high-quality rest.
I hope that you can achieve at least some of these, and take care until we meet again.
JW