#CareerDiaries: Bringing my grief to work
In today's edition of #CareerDiaries, we hear from a mid-level leader who is driven and ambitious work—but just had the rug pulled out from their personal life. Here, they open up about moving through the long, virtual workdays while moving through grief, and grapple with how much of themself to bring to their work in this difficult time.
Day 1 (Sunday):
There are all of these moments in life that are incredibly defining– that create a ‘before’ and an ‘after’. Starting a new job, ending a relationship, moving to a new city, etc. So many of them I wasn’t aware of in real time. Today might be the first time I’m fully aware of the fact that yesterday was ‘before’ and tomorrow is ‘after’.
This morning I received a devastating call – one that has shifted my entire reality for the last year. The person who I thought was MY person has been living a life outside of ours. One that we’ve been building for over a decade. It feels really dramatic, but in a way, my past, present, and future have all been ripped away from me in one second.
I sat in silence for a long time, digesting the vastness and complexity of my feelings. Anger isn’t a big enough word. Disappointment, guilt, confusion, grief, anguish, humiliation, disgust, hurt… I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much at once.
It really wasn’t until hours later that I was sobbing in the shower. But that’s how grief works I guess. It’s unpredictable. Throw in the fact that this grief does not warrant a bereavement request. Mourning the loss of a loved one is only accepted and understood when they have physically left this earth, right? No matter the nuance in the relationship, the finality of it is universal and warrants a deeply emotional response. Mourning the loss of a relationship, whether it’s a friend, family member, or partner, is an entirely different experience devoid of the same empathy.
How am I going to show up for work tomorrow?
Day 2 (Monday):
I told my boss I’m not feeling well and took the day off.
My day probably went as you think it might:
8-9 am: Cry in my bed
9-10 am: Cry in the shower
10 am- 12pm: Go buy a bunch of plants for my garden
12-2 pm: Cry in my garden
2-3 pm: Take my favorite walk
3- 7 pm: Binge reality TV while scheduling a therapy session
7 pm: Eat Taco Bell
8 pm: Go to bed
While I’m pretty good at taking care of myself, I’m feeling incredibly alone. I recognize that my grief isn’t the kind that everyone can connect with, so I’m keeping it close. I hate to even admit that my work probably needs to know that something is going on. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings and as someone who functions at a pretty high level all of the time, my work is undoubtedly going to slip. I might forget to do something, or maybe submit something that is of lower quality than usual. I don’t want to make excuses, but in this moment, I know that I need kindness. I’m certain that my boss is someone who will tell me to take some time off, but work feels like a place where I can channel what little energy and focus I have right now.
Day 3 (Tuesday):
I worked today but admittedly, it wasn’t my best day. Grief is so wildly unpredictable. I made it through the morning until I started sobbing at my desk, 10 minutes before a Zoom meeting. And then I collected myself and joined the meeting.
After sitting with my feelings for 48 hours, I got the courage to reach out to a friend. While not sharing many details of my grief, feeling seen and heard was comforting. Just knowing that someone is aware that things aren’t okay right now made a huge difference. Vulnerability is hard.
Day 4 (Wednesday):
I didn’t cry today (yet). I worked, I took deep breaths, I ate a full meal. I acknowledged that showing up at 50% is better than not showing up at all.
I DID schedule a therapy session for Friday morning and have a work meeting shortly after. I think it’s officially time to let my boss know that something is going on, because I will undoubtedly not be showing up as myself for that meeting. But maybe yesterday’s vulnerability is a lesson for today. Maybe having a colleague who is aware of my grief will make all the difference.
Day 5 (Thursday):
I worked up the nerve at the end of a phone call with my boss to say, “I just want to let you know that I have a really heavy therapy session tomorrow morning, and I might not be up for the meeting scheduled right after.”
Their response, “We’ll record the meeting! Take what you need. Go for a walk after or get a treat. Or don’t work the rest of the day. Do whatever you need to do.”
I knew that the response would sound something like this, but it was still hard letting a colleague know that things are heavy right now. Among other things, women are taught to not bring our emotions to work.
Day 6 (Friday):
Today was my first therapy session in a long time. It was really hard. While the swirl of Teams messages flooded in, I put my phone on “do not disturb” and you know what? Work was still there when I came out of therapy.
I called into my work meeting right after to listen in, keeping my camera off and my mic muted. Then I turned my computer off for the day and went to have a long lunch outside in the sun with a friend. I know it’s not a lot, but I showed up in the only way that I could today.
Day 20:
The sharpness of my pain has started to dull, but continues to hit when I least expect it. There are so many thoughts running through my head at all times, but a voice that tells me to put them in a box and go about my day. It says, “Other people have experienced much worse than you have.” As I shared this with my therapist this week, she stopped me and said, “You have experienced trauma. Your feelings are real and valid and you have every right to feel them–you don’t have to put them in a box.”
Day 28:
It’s fair to say that this month has been one of my most challenging. My healing is far from over, and so much of this time I want to leave behind, but there are some lessons that I’ll take with me.
Self care looks different every day. Some days it looks like going for a long walk and others it looks like watching TV for 8 hours straight. Sometimes it’s eating a really healthy salad and sometimes it’s ordering takeout. Don’t beat yourself up on the days when watching TV and ordering takeout is all you can muster.
Showing up also looks different every day. We don’t always have to operate at 100%. Sometimes 35% or 60% or even 10% is good enough. Sometimes we do the bare minimum to get through the day. That’s okay.
Talk to someone. Go to therapy and if you can’t, find the kindest, most objective voice in your life and talk to them. We live in a world where people feel blame and shame for so many things that it can feel hard to open up, even to those we’re closest with. Therapy is sometimes quite literally life saving.
Always be kind to yourself and others. Talk to yourself the way your best friend would talk to you. Recognize that when someone is showing up differently in your life, whether it’s a friend, colleague, or family member, they might be going through something all-encompassing. You don’t need to know what their trauma is to show up for them with kindness and care.
