Let’s just own it. We are a people united by one thing right now. Grief. It’s why you’re looking at this blog, visiting our website, searching for answers. We are walking the line of functional grief.
When I did some digging on functional grief, my thoughts immediately went to the arena of addiction. I’ve heard about people being functional alcoholics or functional drug addicts, which seem much more serious than the issue of grieving, but it all makes sense in a strange way. Grief can indeed become an addiction that we don’t conjure up ourselves. It just happens. But let’s break down this interesting concept, so we can better understand ourselves and how others “react” when death and loss strike.
Although I couldn’t find an official definition of functional grief, I found this quote from a search online that encapsulates it.
“Functional grief refers to a type of grief that allows individuals to continue with their daily lives and responsibilities despite experiencing loss. Unlike prolonged or complicated grief, functional grief does not significantly impair a person’s ability to function in their personal or professional life.”
For many, functional grief becomes a daily performance of strength. You go through the motions because the bills still come in, children still need feeding and bathing and care, and life doesn’t hit PAUSE, even though you desperately wish it would. People often interpret this functionality as progress, not realizing that you’re carrying the weight of your loss quietly and constantly.
I live in Kentucky, not far from Louisville, where we recently endured a horrific tragedy involving a UPS plane crash. Fourteen precious souls left this earth that day-families changed forever in an instant. The enduring footprint of sorrow left on our community will resonate for many decades. Herein is a perfect example of functional grief. People still had to do their jobs, even though their minds and hearts struggled to comprehend what just happened. First responders worked tirelessly for days, seeking out the poor victims remains. The businesses that were sadly destroyed have to find a way to take care of their employees and to begin thinking about rebuilding, insurance claims—the future and what that looks like. https://www.wlky.com/article/how-to-help-victims-community-ups-plane-crash-donate/69287335
There are the days when functional grief gives way to emotional collapse – the days when you can’t pretend, you can’t push through, and you can’t hold the pieces together any longer. Remember this, though: collapse, isn’t failure! It’s the heart telling us that after holding it in for so many days and weeks, the tears and exhaustion and irritability must be felt. They are signs of our humanity, doing its best to survive the unimaginable.
Most of us live somewhere between the two. We function well enough to get through the day, but then release all the emotions in that moment when we are alone. Sometimes, I can be working on making dinner, and the next moment I’m staring at the same spot on the wall, overwhelmed by memories. This isn’t inconsistency, this going back-and-forth between functioning and collapse. It is grief in motion.
One of the hardest things to Cope with is that others rarely see the whole picture. They see us doing our daily chores, surviving; but they don’t see the breaking in our hearts and souls. They see the actions, not the cost of the actions. This can make us feel very isolated as if we’re expected to be all right, simply because we are UPRIGHT.
Wherever you’re landing today—functioning, collapsing, or something in between—it is allowed. You, my dear friend, deserve compassion, and peace in knowing every step is justifiable.