When Grief Comes Without Tears

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.

In Grief: Finding Crying Time

Sorrows which find no vent in tears may soon make other organs weep. ~ Sir Henry Maudsley

A reader writes: My sister has been very sick and only recently recovered from a serious illness, thank goodness. Thursday will be three months since my big brother died. And last night I found myself crying—really crying—for the first time. Maybe it’s because I can breathe a little easier now that my sister is more out of the woods. I've always been a caretaker. I've always put everyone I love before myself. I did that for my big brother when he was alive. And I'm doing it for my sister. I couldn't save my big brother, just as I couldn't save our father. I cried for a good couple of hours last night. My husband tried to console me, but either I just wouldn't allow it, or he was doing it wrong. I don't know really. All I know is that my big brother is gone and I'm having a hard time with his loss. He was my big brother and meant the world to me. His passing is hitting me hard.

In Grief: Sharing Sadness with A Child

It [is]our job to walk them through understanding their pain but also to be honest with them about our own.  ~ K.C. Freeman Ray

A reader writes: I recently lost my dad really suddenly, and he was only 50 and very healthy. I just wanted to talk about this because it seems there's nobody to tell. Nursing my younger brother today because he's not well. I got just an overwhelming sadness and couldn't stop crying and its weird how it doesn't even cross his mind why I might be upset because he's young? I dunno I don't get it surely even if he's a child he misses my dad too? Anyway I had to pretend I was crying because I felt ill and he was like "I never cry when I'm ill" haha.

In Grief: Feeling Numb, Unable to Cry

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, and I would cry after fighting with friends, or cry if I were purely 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 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 -- but 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.  Read on here >>> 

Teen Grief: "People Criticize The Way I Grieve"

[Reviewed and updated July 3, 2021]

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.  ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

A reader writes: I'm 16 years old. My father died of cancer last week. We were extremely close, and at first I was handling his death very well. Now, as time goes by, I am beginning to miss him so much I can barely perform the everyday tasks without hurting. People criticize the way I grieve. I feel as if nobody could possibly understand the way I feel in the loss of my father. I am very young, and people keep telling me to be strong. Yet, when I am "strong," people question why I'm not grieving. A very dear friend of mine referred your website to me, and I thought that perhaps you could offer some advice to me on a more personal level.

Voices of Experience: Why Are We So Afraid to Cry?

By Sarah Neustadter, PhD

Tearless grief bleeds inwardly.  ~ Christian Nevell Bovee

“They” say “the only way out is through.” And it’s fucking annoying and cliché. But it’s true. The grieving is a crazy journey. Madness. Insanity. Never-ending, in some ways. But it is also transformative, if you allow it and shape it. Your shell’s been cracked open and something new is emerging. If you go in there and live it, experience it like your life depends on it (and it does), I guarantee that when you pop out the other side of it, you will be different. You will feel things in new ways and experience life from a perspective you never thought possible. You might not want to hear it, you might not see it or believe it, and you certainly don’t want it, but I invite you to feel it as fully as you can. Your power is in there. Claim it. Get what’s yours.

Pet Loss, Grief & Caregiving Tweets, July 7 - July 13, 2019

Best selections from Grief Healing's Twitter stream this week:

Crossing The Rainbow Bridge: Signs That The End Of Life Is Near, http://j.mp/32oDl64 « iHeartDogs.com

He Trots the Air, http://j.mp/2NYnNCy « Outside Online

In Grief: "I Didn't Want My Mom To See Me Cry," http://j.mp/2YFGgF9 « Grief Healing

In Grief: "I Didn't Want My Mom To See Me Cry"

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

[Reviewed and updated October 18, 2021]

Tears are words waiting to be written.  ~ Paulo Coelho

A reader writes:  My mom always told me I was overly sensitive. If someone in my family was ill, she wouldn't tell me because she knew it would make me cry. She hated to see me cry and always told me so. When my mom was in the hospital I did not want to upset her, so I would not let her see me cry. I held back my tears. I did not want her to know how scared I was because I did not want her to be more scared. I didn't even cry in front of her until the last day and she was already gone. Even when she was breathing on the machine, until her last breath, she didn't see me cry for her. I did not want to upset her. I did not want her to suffer ever. Mom always did the right thing. I wish I would have done a better job for her. Yes I did love on her and tell her how much we all loved her, just should have done everything different.

Understanding and Managing Grief, August 2 - August 8, 2015

Best selections from Grief Healing's Twitter stream this week:

Seeing Death in Nature: Preparing Children for Loss, http://j.mp/1IVh3L5 « It's OK to Die

Don’t You Tell Me How to Grieve! http://j.mp/1KakGta « GriefMinisterDotCom

Helpful article! Tolerating the Intolerable: Beyond Numbing, http://j.mp/1git8i3 « Open to Hope

Understanding and Managing Grief, February 22 - February 28, 2015

Best selections from Grief Healing's Twitter stream this week:

Weekly Tip: Using Social Media as a Touching Memorial, http://j.mp/1wxeoDz « Seven Ponds Blog

The Eternal Challenge of the Suicide Widow, http://j.mp/1GAfDCn « Widow's Voice

Infertility: navigating your 'disenchanted' « http://j.mp/1zN0ZD7 « HeraldTimesOnline.com

Understanding and Managing Grief, July 13 - July 19, 2014

Best selections from Grief Healing's Twitter stream this week:

Forgiveness in Grief, http://j.mp/1nWtMT4 « Alive in Memory

Hope and Healing at Camp Widow, http://j.mp/1sAx5Cz « Widow's Voice

When Life Dishes Out the Unexpected – and it Always Does, http://j.mp/1mnwhZI « Ashley Davis Bush, LICSW

In Grief: When Tears Won’t Come

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, and I would cry after fighting with friends, or cry if I were purely 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 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 -- but 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. Read on here >>>

In Grief: Responding to "How Are You?"

Source

[Reviewed and updated December 10, 2024]

Please see me through my tears.  ~ Fernando Alvarez

A reader writes: I work in a hospital and worked with hospice long ago but now I am on the other side of the fence. It is so very hard. Currently my partner is a patient in the hospital where I work. We are trying to gain control of his pain. The hardest part is not being able to fix this. I am pretty good at fixing things but I can't fix this. He is only 39. I know people much younger have suffered....but he's only 39. People always ask, how are you doing? I really dislike that question. Most of the time I say fine...but that is a lie. Now I say "I say I'm fine but, you know." I just really wish people wouldn't ask...it breaks my heart...and as I say, this is my hospital, so I know they truly care.

Coping with Sorrow in Grief

Photo credit: El Hermano Pila

[Reviewed and updated November 20, 2024]

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than 10,000 tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.  ~ Washington Irving

Although feelings of hopelessness, anguish and despair are normal following any major loss, the intensity and duration of those feelings will vary from one person to the next, as the reality of the loss becomes more apparent in daily life. You may find that the sorrow of grief saps your energy, making even simple tasks like getting out of bed in the morning, tending to personal grooming, fixing a meal or going somewhere with friends seem overwhelming and exhausting. You may feel negative and critical toward everything and everyone, including yourself. Even in the company of others you may still feel lonely, and may prefer to avoid gatherings of any size.