Someone probably told you that time heals all wounds. It’s a nice thought, honestly. It’s the kind of thing people say at funerals when they don’t know what else to do with their hands or their words. But if you’ve actually lost someone—a parent, a partner, a child, a best friend—you know that "healing" isn't really the right word for it. The truth is much heavier and, strangely, much more honest. The reality is that you will grieve forever, and trying to "get over it" is often the very thing that keeps us stuck in the mud of despair.
Grief isn't a flu. You don't recover from it.
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When we talk about loss in our culture, we treat it like a linear race. You start at "Devastated" and you’re supposed to cross the finish line at "Acceptance." But ask anyone who lost a spouse twenty years ago. They’ll tell you that on a random Tuesday in the grocery store, because they saw a specific brand of mustard or heard a three-second clip of a song, they are right back in the thick of it. The ground gives way. That’s not a relapse. That’s just how love works when the person is gone.
The Problem With the Five Stages
We have to talk about Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. Back in 1969, she gave us the "Five Stages of Grief": denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. It’s the most famous framework in psychological history, but here’s the kicker—it was originally meant for people who were dying themselves, not the ones left behind. Over time, it got twisted into a sort of "to-do" list for the bereaved.
People feel like they’re failing at grief. They think, "I’m still angry, so I must be stuck in stage two." That’s not how human emotions function.
Real grief is messy. It’s circular. It’s a chaotic scribble that doubles back on itself. You might feel "acceptance" on Monday and "denial" on Wednesday. According to David Kessler, who co-authored works with Kübler-Ross and later added a sixth stage (meaning), the stages were never meant to be a permanent map. They are just a way to categorize the chaos. When you realize the reality is that you will grieve forever, you stop checking your watch. You stop wondering when you’ll be "done."
The Ball and the Box
There’s a famous metaphor that went viral on Twitter a few years ago, and for good reason—it’s the most accurate description of long-term loss I’ve ever seen. Imagine your life is a box. Inside the box, there is a ball and a "pain button."
In the beginning, the ball is huge. It fills the entire box. Every time you move, the ball hits the button. You can’t avoid it. It hurts constantly. It feels like the pain will literally never stop.
But as time passes, the ball gets smaller. It doesn't disappear, but it gets smaller. It rattles around in the box. Most of the time, it doesn't hit the button. You can laugh. You can go to work. You can enjoy a meal. But then, out of nowhere, the ball hits that button again. And it hurts just as much as it did on day one. The only difference is that it happens less often.
Why Forever Is a Long Time (And Why That’s Fine)
If you stopped grieving, it would mean the person no longer mattered. Grief is just the price of admission for love. You can’t have one without the other. Dr. Joanne Cacciatore, a renowned grief expert and author of Bearing the Unbearable, argues that our modern "pro-happiness" culture actually makes grief worse. We try to medicate it away or "fix" it because we’re uncomfortable with the sight of someone in pain.
We want people to be "better" in six months. We give them three days of bereavement leave and expect them to be productive. It’s a scam.
The reality is that you will grieve forever because that person is a permanent part of your identity. You don't move on from them; you move with them. Think about it. If you lost your mother, you don't just lose her in 2024. You lose her at your wedding in 2027. You lose her when your first child is born in 2030. You lose her when you retire. Every new milestone is a new loss because she isn't there to see it. Grief evolves as you evolve.
Physiological Changes in the Grieving Brain
This isn't just "in your head." It’s in your biology. Mary-Frances O’Connor, an associate professor at the University of Arizona, has done incredible work on what she calls "The Grieving Brain." Her research shows that our brains treat our loved ones as part of our "biological self."
When they die, the brain struggles to update its map of the world. It’s a literal neurological glitch.
The brain has two competing pieces of information:
- The memory that the person is gone.
- The deep, hard-wired "attachment" knowledge that the person is a permanent part of your life.
It takes years—sometimes a lifetime—for the brain to reconcile these two things. This is why you might reach for the phone to call them months after they’ve passed. Your neurons haven't caught up to the reality of the funeral yet. Understanding that the reality is that you will grieve forever helps you be kinder to yourself when these "glitches" happen. You aren't losing your mind. You're just re-mapping your world.
The Danger of "Prolonged Grief Disorder"
Now, there’s a flip side. In the DSM-5 (the manual used by psychiatrists), there is a diagnosis called Prolonged Grief Disorder. This happens when the grief is so intense that it completely stops a person from functioning for more than a year.
It’s controversial. Some experts think it pathologizes a natural process. Others think it’s a vital way to get people help when they are truly "stuck."
There is a difference between "grieving forever" and being unable to get out of bed for a decade. Grieving forever means you carry the loss like a backpack. It’s always there, but you learn how to walk with the weight. Prolonged Grief Disorder is when the backpack is so heavy you can’t even stand up. If you find that you can't find any moments of joy, or if you feel a total loss of identity, that’s when professional intervention—like Complicated Grief Therapy (CGT)—becomes necessary.
Practical Ways to Carry the Weight
Since the goal isn't to "finish" grieving, what are we supposed to do? We have to find ways to integrate the loss into our daily lives. We have to learn how to live in the "and." You can be happy and miss them. You can be successful and feel a hole in your heart.
- Create Rituals: Don't ignore the birthdays or the anniversaries. They’re going to be hard anyway. You might as well acknowledge them. Light a candle, visit their favorite park, or cook their favorite meal.
- Talk to Them: It sounds "kinda" crazy to some, but talking to the person who died is a common and healthy way to maintain what psychologists call "continuing bonds."
- Stop the Comparison: Your grief doesn't look like your sister’s grief. It doesn't look like that influencer’s "healing journey" on Instagram. Comparison is the thief of peace, especially when you’re mourning.
- Accept the Waves: When a wave of sadness hits three years later, don't ask "What's wrong with me?" Instead, say "Ah, there it is. I must really miss them today."
The Power of Community
We aren't meant to do this alone. In many traditional cultures, mourning was a communal event that lasted years. In the West, we’ve privatized it. We cry in our cars so we don't bum anyone out. That’s a mistake. Finding a "tribe" of people who also understand that the reality is that you will grieve forever can be the difference between surviving and thriving. Support groups aren't just for the first six months. They are for the long haul.
Final Insights on Living With Loss
We’ve been sold a lie that a "good" life is one without pain. That’s just not how being a human works. If you are grieving, it means you were lucky enough to love someone so much that their absence changed the shape of your world. That’s a heavy burden, but it’s also a profound honor.
Stop trying to find the exit. There is no exit. There is only the road ahead.
The weight won't necessarily get lighter, but you will get stronger. You’ll learn how to adjust your posture. You’ll learn when to rest. And eventually, you’ll find that the grief isn't just a dark shadow—it’s also a testament to the light that person brought into your life.
Actionable Next Steps:
- Audit your expectations: Take a piece of paper and write down all the "shoulds" you’re feeling. (e.g., "I should be over this by now," "I should be dating again.") Cross them out. They aren't real.
- Identify your "triggers": Make a mental list of the things that tend to hit your "pain button"—specific songs, places, or dates. Prepare for them rather than letting them catch you off guard.
- Find a "Secondary Loss" counselor: If you find yourself struggling not just with the death, but with the loss of your lifestyle, your home, or your social circle (secondary losses), look for a therapist who specifically uses the "Continuing Bonds" framework.
- Practice Radical Self-Compassion: On the days when the ball hits the button, cancel your plans. Eat the comfort food. Let yourself be sad. Resistance creates suffering; acceptance creates space for healing.