Tears have a wisdom all their own. They come when a person has relaxed enough to let go to work through his sorrow. They are the natural bleeding of an emotional wound, carrying the poison out of the system. Here lies the road to recovery. ~ F. Alexander Magoun
A reader writes: My only sibling and big brother passed away six months ago. He was 30 years old. I used to be able to cry. I mean, I would cry at work when things got stressful, cry after fighting with friends, or cry when I was frustrated. My brother passes away, and no tears. No tears at the funeral home. No tears at the hospital. No tears at the funeral. And no tears six months later.I have gotten teary-eyed, but all of a sudden I have the ability to shut it off. I just feel numb. I always thought that if someone were to die in my family, I would go insane and weep like a banshee. My brother dies suddenly, and no tears. I do feel really bad and miss him so much, but I think I'm blocking out the fact that he's gone—although I'm not sure about that. I just find it strange that I won't cry. I'm thinking that down the road, when I'm older, I'll end up having a nervous breakdown.
My response: It's interesting that you describe yourself as someone who "won't cry" rather than "can't cry." I wonder what that distinction means for you.
Your concern about crying is understandable, my friend, but it's important to know that crying is not necessarily part of everyone's grieving style. Not crying is not, by itself, a sign that something is wrong or that you are headed for a nervous breakdown.
There could be any number of reasons why you won't cry. You may fear that if you permit yourself to cry, you will lose control—that once the tears begin, they will never stop. I can assure you that it is physically impossible to cry 24 hours a day, and in grief there is no such thing as crying too much.
You may be someone who experiences grief more intellectually than emotionally, or who processes pain more actively through physical exercise or other forms of activity. As a child, you may have been taught that crying is a sign of weakness and that strong people—especially men—don't cry.
In her insightful book The Courage to Grieve, grief therapist and bereaved sibling Judy Tatelbaum explains that it is vitally important to find healthy outlets for our painful feelings. Expressing one's feelings openly through tears can be a sign of strength, vitality, and wholeness rather than weakness:
If you feel as though you need to cry but cannot, it may help to examine your beliefs and attitudes about crying. Consider what might happen if you allowed yourself to let go for a time and release what you are feeling, trusting that you would be better able to function afterward.Grief is a wound that needs attention in order to heal. To work through and complete grief means to face our feelings openly and honestly, to express and release our feelings fully, and to tolerate and accept our feelings for however long it takes for the wound to heal. For most of us, that is a big order. Therefore, it takes courage to grieve. It takes courage to feel our pain and to face the unfamiliar. It also takes courage to grieve in a society that mistakenly values restraint, where we risk the rejection of others by being open or different.
Expect feelings of sadness, knowing that they are normal and that they will pass. Set aside a certain time each day when you can deliberately immerse yourself in your grief. Use photographs, music, letters, journals, or other meaningful mementos to help bring your feelings closer to the surface.
In the normal course of grief, our sense of control is threatened—if not lost completely—and we can feel vulnerable and frightened by the intensity of our reactions. Often we fear that opening ourselves to the pain will cause us to "go crazy" or, as you put it, "go insane, weep like a banshee, or have a nervous breakdown."
But feeling overwhelmed does not mean you are losing your mind. Grief is not a pathological condition; it is a normal response to the loss of someone you love deeply.
In fact, according to Christine Longaker, the emotional experience of bereavement can resemble the experience of dying itself. In her book Facing Death and Finding Hope: A Guide to Spiritual and Emotional Care of the Dying, she writes:Of course, it is also possible that you have unresolved issues related to your brother and his death that you are keeping at arm's length. Without a healthy outlet, painful feelings can accumulate like a river blocked by deadwood and debris.In this transition, we are suspended between the past and the future. We may feel extreme anxiety and loss of control as we experience the ground of our "known world" dissolving beneath our feet. The new shape of our life has not yet manifested, so we find no reassurance in the future. No wonder we find bereavement so difficult! Grieving challenges us to eventually die to our old way of life, letting go of our former expectations, identity, and all the associations we had with the deceased person (p. 165).
Related Articles and Resources:
- 3 Reasons to Let Yourself Feel Your Emotions
- Death of a Sibling Webinar
- Facing Another Funeral Without 'Falling Apart'
- In Grief: Finding Crying Time
- Purposeful Tears
- Sadness: You're Doing It Wrong (Why I'm Mad at Crying)
- The Benefits of a Good Cry
- The Science of Crying
- Understanding Grief Styles: How Personality Shapes the Way We Mourn
- When Going To Pieces Holds You Together
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