Grief is…a glimpse at depression

October 30, 20233 min read

Grief is…a glimpse at depression

I’m reflecting on this post from November in May. I’m now almost 8 months from the day Ben died and I still feel so much connection to this post. I am still not able to carry all of me. I am still putting together the puzzle of who I will be next. There are so many things just beyond the veil that I can’t connect to and now wonder if I ever will. I also still know I will be ok. I will find a way and a new self. I will advocate for better supports for mental wellness challenges and honour those who struggle. For now, I survive. I rely on my support system and respect my limitations. I focus on being gentle with myself and others. I miss myself and I just breath. 

Here’s the post about how I saw things at month 2. 

Nov 23, 20

Today is a hard day. The last couple weeks I've come to see that while I mourn the loss of Ben and learn to live without him, I'm also mourning the loss of me. The person who went to sleep Sept 26th doesn't exist anymore. I am deconstructed and looking at the pieces of me on the ground around my feet. I can't hold them all and I don't know how they fit together. A literal piece of me is gone and I'll need to reconstruct a new person. I've been on a path of exploration, transition and growth for a long time now but this is next level.

And I also see that I'm being gifted a chance to glimpse at what I imagine life with depression is like. Where doing "normal" things is impossible. Where sometimes you can manage to get through the day as long as you keep the list short and sometimes that is a monumental task and any list is too long. Where the stuff people complain about seems so ridiculously small and insignificant you can't even relate. Where what you care about feels like it's behind a veil that you cannot breach and your passions and interests are far away. Where all you can do is fill the day till it's time to go to sleep again.

I say I get a glimpse because for me this experience and these feelings are part of grief. My life experience and brain chemistry allow me to know it's not permanent. That while life will never be the same, it will be good again and is good now. That I'm supported in ways beyond my comprehension. I know I will be ok. 

It's also different because as a grieving mother society expects me to feel this way and makes allowances. I try to imagine if I felt this way and people told me to pull up my socks and get over it. Or that what I was experiencing wasn't real and if I was strong enough I'd be able to do whatever I wanted. Or that what I felt was somehow my fault. What a burden that would be. An unimaginable burden carried by many with mental health challenges brought on by brain chemistry imbalances and/or trauma. 

If you are suffering know I care. I honour your struggle and will do any and everything you want to help. If you know someone who is struggling, reach out. They may not be able to and you reaching out may make all the difference in the world. And if you to mourn someone who lost the struggle, know you did everything you could. 

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Through her insightful teachings and thoughtfully designed programs, Suzanne offers a path guided by emotional intelligence and real life experience to address the full spectrum of the complex emotions and consequences of grief while expanding the capacity to engage fully with life post loss. Her heartfelt approach also honours the depth of loss through the invaluable practice of cherishing and expressing love for what has been lost and experienced.

Bonnie Lynn

Business Owner/Consultant


In a recent peer meeting, I shared the statistics you provided regarding the number of co-workers that are dealing with grief at any given time. We committed to not only acknowledging the grief but also to providing sustained support.

Kay McBreairty

Program Manager