Grieving life’s losses and finding your new normal

I recently read a piece written by Corinne Edwards, author of When Your Husband Has Died, A Survival Guide, and much of what she had to say about the nature of grief and finding your new normal, struck me deeply on many levels.
The old normal is gone…after a period of intense pain, you’ll be different. The person you were is gone. It is an amputation. Eventually, a new person will emerge. It will be the new normal. A new life will start to take shape, but the limb you lost won’t grow back. You will have something in common with a soldier who bravely runs a marathon despite having a prosthesis for a leg…This new person will have a life which includes peace, love and even laughter, community and new friendships. It can and will happen in your own time.
Dana Jennings, whose New York Times articles on cancer, I know many of you, like me admire, had this to say about the nature of grief following cancer:
Partly, I think, I’m grieving for the person I was before I learned I had cancer. Mortality is no longer abstract, and a certain innocence has been lost.
Have you struggled to find your new normal again after cancer, bereavement, illness, or any of life’s challenges? Are there any words of support you can give to those who may still be struggling?
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The New You will emerge is a really good way of looking at loss (whatever the reason).
The best tip I can give is to give yourself time and allow the calmness of that to take over and be easy on yourself. There’s so much more I can say but only when a person in the middle of such turbulence give themselves that breathing space and not give themselves a hard time over things not being done will be able to see what they need to do. Then they can re-balance their lives and the process of proper healing and restructuring their lives can happen. Well works for me anyway. I can dance around expecting to make everything right but until I step back and make sense and rebalance my life nothing works.
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Thanks! I found your comment very helpful @speltforchoice
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Thanks so much Marian for joining in the discussion. I like what you say about going easy on yourself 😉
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I agree about going easy on yourself too. Take time to transition back to your daily routine and remember that progress isn’t linear – you will find you have good days and bad days, but eventually the good days will outnumber the bad ones.
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This is an important point Alice. We can get disheartened and start to beat ourselves up if we feel we aren’t making “progress” quick enough.
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I agree – be compassionate with yourself in this phase. Notice your internal dialogue and if is hard or judgemental, then change it to a more loving and gentler way of speaking to yourself
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Fiona, Marie, Alice and Carolyn for all your lovely comments. I wasn’t expecting any on my own. Tks:) Marian
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For many cancer survivors their new normal can turn into an existential crisis that can last for several years after their treatments have ended. I would love to hear if this was true for you Marie? And if so, how did you deal with it? Thanks for all you do to help us in the online world
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Hi Fiona, I am hoping that readers will be able to answer this question for you as the conversation continues on the blog, but I do think it will be different for everyone – we all have to find our own way back from grief..or perhaps find our way forward is a more accurate description.
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Uh! Oh! are we back to labels again? I got to say I don’t like that new normal phrase myself..
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Yes Dorothy, seems like we are! As soon as I posted this, I thought the wording might be an issue, but please bear with me today on this one and let’s see how the conversation continues..we may even come up with a new way of saying this!
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I find huge pressure to be somehow “more” of a person than I was before cancer. Stories of those who go on to live this incredible life and achieve amazing things make me feel less of a survivor – does anyone else feel this kind of pressure?
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Hi Angela, I know JUST how you feel! I call it the Lance Armstrong effect. It took me quite a while to come to terms with the fact that it is ok to just be me – I don’t have to go on and win the Tour de France after my cancer treatment!
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I am struggling with this as well, feeling guilty for not doing something amazing with my survivorship.
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Angela, this is a great point and one I confess I share with you!
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Thanks for that comment Bruce 😉
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a time of great crisis in life is often a time of re-evaluating your priorities and for me moving into my own new normal was realigning my values with how I actually lived my life. It led to me letting go of certain (toxic) people in my life
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So the question is, what is normal? Does it mean routine, regular, constant? Well, there
is little that is average or routine after cancer treatment. Perhaps that is why we call it a new kind of normal – we need to find new ways of being back in the world again
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Everyone’s experience is unique but expect to be challenged in ways that you may not have anticipated. As people have already written here – give yourself time to recover and know that you will feel like you are taking two steps forward only to take three steps back some days.
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I agree with you Caroline that it is a highly individual experience. How you grieve depends on many factors, including your personality and coping style, your life experience, your faith, and the nature of the loss.
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It is different for every survivor. Physical recovery may be easier or more difficult for one survivor than it is for another. Don’t compare yourself to others (especially the Lance Armstrongs of this world!) is my best advice to you
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Great questions Carl!
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What is most important to you now? How do you want to live each day? The answers to these questions will help you decide how best to move forward into your new normal
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Thanks for all you do for us in reporting from the front lines of grief where I know you still are after your Mom’s death Marie. It’s important to acknowledge and grieve over what we have lost in order to be able to move on successfully.
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Thanks for sharing Dana Jennings quote – I really admired the way he wrote about his prostate cancer experience in the New York Times.
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You are so right Marie that the nature of grief and loss is universal – whether it is the death of a loved one or a relationship break up or a serious illness, the key is to integrate the loss into your life and move forward. Your relationship to the person who has gone (or the body part missing in my case with breast cancer) is changed forever, but -you can learn to live a new life without them
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I really commend you for your honesty in writing about the feelings people don’t always want to discuss in public. We need to reassure each other that whille some of these feelings can be frightening and overwhelming, they are normal reactions to loss. Accepting them as part of the grieving process and allowing yourself to feel what you feel is necessary for healing.
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I believe that in order to live we need to learn how to die and there are many deaths to go through before the end of mortal life, deaths of loved ones, losing parts of ourselves, and so forth. We learn to live without them as we move forward on our journey through life.
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I like the quote at the start of this post about there being no time limit on grief. This is so true. Often we push ourselves to be or act a certain way by a certain (self or society) imposed time frame. Society doesn’t always allow us the time we need to fully grieve. The grieving process takes time. Healing happens gradually; it can’t be forced or hurried – and there is no “normal” timetable for grieving. Some people start to feel better in weeks or months. For others, the grieving process is measured in years. Whatever your grief experience, it’s important to be patient with yourself and allow the process to naturally unfold.
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I found being able to express my feelings through art was very healing. It’s important to find a way to express your feelings in a tangible or creative way.
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Don’t let anyone tell you how to feel, and don’t tell yourself how to feel either. Let the grieving process happen at its own pace.
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Let yourself feel whatever you feel without judging it – or letting others judge it either. . It’s okay to feel what you feel – It’s also okay to laugh, to find moments of joy – you aren’t betraying anyone if you do.
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Plan ahead for grief “triggers.” Anniversaries, holidays, and milestones can be very hard so be extra careful with yourself. You will find plenty of advice on how to deal with these occasions in many of the blogs Marie references. I know, because I did!
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It is true that a cancer journey involves dealing with a many different kinds of losses – we aren’t always prepared for the intensity of our grief over these losses but it is so important that we acknowledge the losses and grief them properly in order to be able to move on with our lives.
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I lost confidence in my body – I felt it had betrayed me, when I was diagnosed with a serious illness a few years ago . I had to learn to have faith in it again – but it took time to rebuild my confidence and sense of security.
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After cancer, I had to learn to acknowledge the losses I had gone through and grieve for them.
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Sometimes we don’t learn to grieve properly because we tell ourselves our losses are not significant – after all what is losing a breast compared to dying? But it is important that even with small losses you allow yourself to grieve them anyway. If we don’t they may accumulate and threaten to flood us when we experience a more significant loss.
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Mary, this is a very insightful observation – thanks for sharing
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I am two years out and definitely in the middle of grieving still. Ancillary health issues (blood pressure, thyroid) caused by treatment bring on those feelings. I feel as though I have aged 10 years in 2 years. And physically, I think I have (maybe b/c of arimidex I feel that way — achy, etc.). OTOH, I am so, so grateful to be alive, so sometimes the guilt for grieving is there too. It takes time to sort it all out. I was discharged yesterday from the radiation oncologist b/c I’m 2 years out. We were talking about fatigue and she said it takes years, not months, for fatigue to go away and 2 years out is not long at all in that sense. Makes me think the same may be true for emotions. Time will heal, and patience will serve us, I think.
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Wow, look at this great discussion, Marie! I’ve been contemplating a post about this myself and will get to it eventually… We do need to grieve for things we’ve lost to cancer. We aren’t the same people in some ways post diagnosis. We have lost parts of ourselves (figuratively and literally). We need to grieve for people, things and pieces of ourselves we have lost. Too many times we aren’t given the time or “permission” to do so. Thanks for another “hot” topic!
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I have definitely struggled to find my new normal after cancer treatment and a related consequence, marital separation. There’s no question I’ve lost my innocence through both those life crises. My friendships are now deeper than they ever were. I can share practically anything with people I meet if we click at a certain level. I make new friends readily because I’m open about myself, sharing details that some would not be comfortable putting out there. But that’s how I think I heal. If people don’t like what I say, they won’t ask for my phone number. If they do, we can go out to a coffee together sometime.
I would advise people going through this transformation to reach out to others and develop those relationships that will heal, strengthen, affirm, and comfort. I don’t know where I’d be now without my new friends (and golden oldies, too). Thanks for initiating this fascinating discussion. xx
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When you look at the impact of stressors, it’s often the build up of smaller, annoying daily hassles that wear you down. I think it must be similar for losses – Losses are stressors, too. Makes sense to me that grieving small losses and letting them go as best you can gives you space and experience for big losses. I wonder if we have a loss capacity and perhaps finding a new normal depends on our ability to adjust this capacity.
I really try to move away from the annoying stuff and focus on working through the big things.
I’m also curious about the intersection between grief and guilt. I like what both Nancy’s Point and CU said above. We have to give ourselves permission to grieve, no matter how small, or at least how small we perceive it to be. And patience. Patience is key.
I’m also having some survivor guilt – although I went through chemo and rads, I’ve healed well, and I’ve had this lumpectomy that hardly makes a difference. I’m trying to give myself permission to appreciate my feelings, not discount them, but also to try to move ahead as best I can.
Cancer is a conundrum, isn’t it? (Something else I want to write about…..)
Thanks for all of the great conversation and ideas!
❤
e.
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And some of us never recover physically. It’s just so terribly hard every day. Yes I’m working, back at my old job, but in so much pain. It continues to wear me down. I don’t want this new normal at all. There is no healing promised for me. This, and my family falling apart too. My husband with recent back surgery. Daughter, afraid of BRCA2, wears herself ragged filling in for my while going to college and working two jobs. Son, who dove into the virtual world when he couldn’t handle the real one. I know he lives here, but never more than “hi” or “bye”.
All this because of cancer and the effects of treatment. This is not anything close to normal. I don’t ever get survivor’s guilt. I get survivor’s envy.
Sorry I’m always the downer here. You can delete this if you want to. Better to just have the supportive comments and such. Why would anyone bother with an unhappy ending…
Thanks for letting me air it all out..
Dianne
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Dianne – In many ways, what you mention comes closest to my own feelings, though our situations are different. I’ve recovered pretty easily from any other health problem I had in my life. I survived Rheumatic Fever and a heart murmur that improved with age. I really was prepared for how hard this has been. I have a Master’s degree as a medical librarian and I wonder how people manage because none of my doctor’s really gave me much helpful information. I have been fighting with my oncologist about truncal lymphedema. He looks at my arm and tells me I don’t have lymphedema but he won’t read the information I bring him from peer reviewed journals. I had to take my husband with me the last visit and he demanded that I be given access to a physical therapist who specializes in lymphedema. Guess what, that is the problem but it took four years of needless suffering and a loss of trust in any of the doctors I’ve seen!
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The key is not to feel as if you need to do everything at once. Take time for yourself as you establish a new daily routine. Try exercising, talking with other survivors and taking time for activities you enjoy
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Thanks to everyone for contributing to this discussion – you have no idea how much it has helped me today to know that I am not alone
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My mum died, from a massive stroke, just over a month after I was diagnosed with breast cancer the first time. I hadn’t told my family about the diagnosis, because mum had only recently come out of hospital after recovering from a bad fall, where she incurred several broken bones – so I felt dad and my sister had enough to cope with already.
I’m not sure whether I’ve properly grieved for my mum’s death – I’ve been so caught up in my own drama, especially having been re-diagnosed last year. I don’t know whether I feel like a different person from before – or just poorer, having taken the decision to stop working while I was having treatment!
I also feel as though my life should have been “transformed” in some way – as Angela said earlier, there seems to be that expectation – and I suppose I might have been grieving for the fact that this is not the case.
In any event, I continue to have the intention of enjoying every day as it comes – which is what I always did.
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An amputation. How true, both physically and emotionally.
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It’s a powerful metaphor (if that’s the right word this time) Nancy!
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Thanks to you all for your wonderful contribution to this discussion. It is so powerful to know that we are not alone! I’d like to share the following quote with you which is very apt I think for this topic:
“Once you had put the pieces back together, even though you may look intact, you were never quite the same as you’d been before the fall.”
― Jodi Picoult
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WOW What wonderful posts and sooooo truthfull. Every day Iget up I am gratefull for another day. A long time ago I was listening to the radio and a lady was talking about her life after a family member had died. She said she lived her life a different way and that her normal was completely different because of grieving. it took me a while to realise that I was mourning my before cancer. But that realisation has helped. actually all the posts have helped!! i lost my job, due to cut backs, towards the end of my treatment but I know that something will turn up and that being able to get up every morning and do stuff is my normal at the minute. Thanks every one
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I just feel Lost.
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This is such an excellent post, Marie, and it’s a hot topic for me, as well. I’ve had so many losses in a short period of time. Cancer diagnosis and treatment, divorce, infertility, effects from cancer treatment, moving, a friend dying of metastatic breast cancer, a scare, and a double mastectomy with reconstruction, etc. Very hard to find the new me. In some ways, I’m an improved version of myself, but I do grieve my former self, even if I had problems in my marriage them. I’ve done a lot of grieving, but then again, I’ve done a lot of living.
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Hi Beth, I love that last line..I’ve done a lot of grieving, but then again, I’ve done a lot of living! I think I might just have to steal that one from you 😉
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Struggling to find a ‘new normal’ almost a year post-diagnosis. The fact that (as for others) my diagnosis accompanied other unsettling/difficult life events (in my case, a move across the country to a town where I knew noone, a new job – and then a cyclone!!) heightened the sense that life as I’d known it had blown up in my face. The passage of time is helping, though I’m not sure where the re-building process will lead. A great post and discussion, Marie.
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Hi Liz, great to have you back again with such an excellent observation on the nature of grieving. I do agree with you about how many times our diagnoses is accompanied by other difficult life events. Seems like there is a lot of things in life we must learn to grieve, finish with and then move on, wouldn’t you agree?
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Hi Liz just found this blog- it has kept me sane on a fall down return to work- teaching disadvantaged students in inner city Dublin- the eye of the storm in terms of stress – and with it the realisation the me post cancer is not the me prior to cancer. Lots of balls in the air at the moment , lots of stress, fear and anxiety .
These 6 words challenged me for some time-here goes
“done but not out- deo gratis”
Every time one has a set back and there have been several for me on this sometimes wonderful journey depending on where I am at the time on the journey this is what comes up for me.
There you have it – on a better day it might be full on more positive images but not today!!
Le gra mhor ( with much love (in Irish ))
Lou Mc
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Hi Louise, thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts with us. Warm Regards, Marie
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Wow.. full spectrum.. the grieving.. the trying to find the new normal, the wanting so badly to jst be the old me…the continued pain, the fear, the sadness, the pressure to somehow be even better because I ‘beat’ this horrible thing..someone above called it the Lance Armstrong effect.. I love that..lol. I think I have it all. Sigh. I keep telling myself that in time it will get better, but the time just isn’t moving fast enough……
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oh Janine..i hear you on the time not moving fast enough..i feel just like that most times too..thanks for taking the time to leave your comment so that we all can know our feelings are shared #livestrong!
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Reblogged this on NED Retreat – Moving Beyond Cancer.
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