• Your sorrow is your joy unmasked
  - Kahlil Gibran

When my dad died at age 59 it was a big shock. Even though I had had six months to get used to the idea, I was ill prepared for this, and I just sat on my emotions. Not only did I not let them out, I didn’t even allow them to rise up inside of me. I knew I was sad and cut up about it, but I just got on with other things and bit my lip. I didn’t even know that I was angry about his premature death.

One effect of this was that I was difficult to be around, although once again, I didn’t know that. At one point, a year later, my uncle offered to help me clear out our verandah when my mother decided to sell the family home. I was snappy with him and brushed him off. Of course, I was unawarely putting out my anger and bitterness onto him.

The above is an example of how a lack of knowledge of your emotions can get you into messy relationships with others around you. Grief can have many different guises and a loss has the potential to propel you into any behaviour (e.g. compulsive activities, avoidance, over-activity) thoughts (e.g. obsessing, self-criticism, grandiosity) or emotions (anger, jealousy, resentment,) you can imagine.

The good news
It’s possible to get a handle on your emotions if you work with them. When I first heard about counselling or therapy it seemed strange to see it referred to as work: surely it was the therapist who worked, not the client? But now I realise that to grapple with our own emotions is a kind of work. And it pays off. Co-counselling is one way of doing it.

Nowadays, 25 years later, I still do feel that sadness that I lost my dad before he saw me get into my mature adulthood, and I don’t want to not have the sadness – I want to still miss him. But it no longer has a grip on me in ways I don’t understand.