Personally, I have had more encounters with grief and mourning than I ever wished for. Within a span of three-and-a-half years, five members of my family passed away, with my only sibling, stepdad, and nana being the closest to me. The grieving process became even more profound as I was also diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and almost lost my life to a hospital-acquired superbug during that time.
Grief takes many forms
The most recent loss I experienced was just six months ago, when my three-and-a-half-year-old whippet died unexpectedly. It left me feeling completely devastated, as he was not just a pet but also my unofficial therapy dog, my MS guru. The pain of losing him was intense and, even now, I still feel lost without his presence. Although I now have a new puppy who is trying to fill the void, I still struggle with the grief of losing Oisín, especially since some MS symptoms went into overdrive and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight.
Grief, however, is not always a result of outside events. There’s no room for manoeuvre when faced with a neurodegenerative illness and losing a part of yourself due to a chronic illness - especially when disability takes hold of your physical body. The inability to do things you once could can lead to a loss of independence and the life you envisioned. While life goes on for others, it can be frustrating to watch those who take their health for granted and fail to appreciate their bodies and all the potential they hold.
In the aftermath of my diagnosis, denial was my initial response. For five weeks, I went about my day with a sense of detachment, refusing to process the overwhelming reality of my situation. Even though I knew I had to grieve the person I lost on the day of my diagnosis, I couldn’t grasp what lay ahead. Would there be anger, frustration or feeling unworthy of happiness? Do I really have to go through the five stages of grief as described by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross? I just didn't have the time or energy for this.
Loss of my old self
While my path to diagnosis may have been shorter than others', the loss of activities like hill-walking, rock climbing, and thriving in a high-pressure work environment was undeniably painful. Here I was, in a new country, standing at a crossroads: should I give up, or should I fight this ugly beast with as much gusto as I could?
Denial was draining. After five weeks, I began to see that not facing the issue took much more energy than I had because my oomph was depleted in all the wrong places. I needed to explore other ways to cope with my grief.
Grieving what we have physically lost will, at some stage, show us that resilience can shine through adversity. Embracing positivity became crucial to navigating overwhelming fatigue, trigeminal neuralgia and other debilitating symptoms.
Grieving does not have to be the end of a relationship with those we have lost or what we have lost. In fact, I have learned that it marks the beginning of a new phase in our connection with these events. Grief is a powerful process that teaches us how to be stronger in the face of adversity.
Acceptance
Gradually, my denial transformed into a powerful plan for acceptance. Adjusting to the physical, emotional, and lifestyle changes was incredibly challenging. Yet, I understood that every moment of discomfort and grief could lead to growth, being the best version of myself.
In short, everybody grieves in the way they want or need to. Go through denial, anger, bargaining and depression until you reach an acceptance you can live with, or contact your local or national MS Society. Life with MS is not the end of your life. It is just the beginning.
References
On Death & Dying, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross
On Grief and Grieving, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross
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