Do You Really Need to See a Therapist When Experiencing Grief?

I’ll start by saying that I’m that person that has always felt like I had my shit together. I apologize if anyone finds that statement offensive, it’s not meant to be. Excelling in every aspect of life from academics to athletics, with an unwavering commitment to success and responsible living would’ve been an accurate depiction of my life. I was a three sport athlete in high school and began working part time at UPS. I’m the youngest of five siblings and the only one to graduate college. I paid my own way through school even taking out a personal loan my sophomore year to continue attending. I continued playing soccer in college and working part time, even full time hours every chance I got. I then went on to get my Masters while working full time and raising two children, one medically complex. I tend to stay busy and I don’t typically complain over my circumstances. While we can’t control everything that happens to us, we can control how we react and the mindset we maintain. We choose the attitude we bring to each day. Choosing happiness can often lead to a more fulfilling and positive life experience. I’ve believed for many years that if you control what you can control everyday you wake up you can chose to be happy or not. I remember, specifically, telling my 4th grade daughter, Lexi when she didn’t get the teacher she wanted, that the one thing you can always choose is to be happy or not. She was truly upset about not getting the other fourth grade teacher that she had already had years earlier in first grade. It was her comfort zone and this was a disappointment for her. However, after our discussion as she walked out the door, she smiled and said Mom I’m going to choose to be happy today but it doesn’t mean I’m happy about what happened. I smiled, told her I was proud of her, and said “who knows maybe she’ll end up being the best teacher yet!” I’ve always believed it’s crucial for parents to instill good character traits, coping skills, and values in their children because we won’t always be by their side in every circumstance. These foundational components serve as guiding lights, empowering children to navigate life’s challenges with resilience and integrity, even in our absence. As I write this a wave of emotions overcome me because it’s a vivid reminder that I never had the opportunity and never will to have this same type of conversation with Cole. Cole was born chosing happiness and exhibited remarkable resilience.

Our entire world was rocked May 10th, 2023 when Cole went for a procedure and never made it out of the operating room. I’ve had many things racing through my head since that day (almost a whole year ago) I don’t even really know where to start and I certainly don’t ever see an end to the heart-wrenching pain that I feel over losing my sweet boy. There is one thing that so many people have brought up to me and that is therapy. Now don’t get me wrong, I think therapy is so important for many people just not something I’ve ever needed. I joke about being everyone else’s therapist at work. However, the truth is as I watch my daughter, Lexi cope with the death of her brother whom she had an incredible bond, I can’t help but feel helpless. It’s the most awful feeling as a Mother to not have the right words or to know exactly how to make a situation better. The sad truth is, there is nothing I can say that will make Cole being gone forever better, nothing I can say or do that will take the pain from us or ease our pain. I understand fully that things can change and in the future, I could find myself staying in bed, not being productive, and struggling through depression but that is not me today. Here’s the hardcore truth. I refuse to apologize for my heartbreak and sadness following the loss of my 8-year-old son, Cole. I’m adamant that I do not need therapy; I need my son back. Despite random tears and uncontrollable emotions, I refuse to believe that medication or therapy could alleviate this pain, nothing will truly comfort me except having Cole in my arms again. I embrace my grief as a testament to my unconditional love for Cole, I will never stop crying over his loss and I will not be apologetic for being sad nor should I or anyone else be when it involves the loss of a child.

Lexi is one of the toughest souls I know and from the surface, she looks great! She has a good group of friends, she does well in school, she’s passionate about aerial silk, has a profound love for animals, and she loves her family and vice versa deeply. However, as a Mother I don’t ever want to feel as if I didn’t provide the necessary tools to give her the absolute best opportunity at this thing called life. Therefore, after much thought, significant research, and some bribing I convinced her to give therapy a chance. She told me that she had no desire to speak to a stranger and that she doesn’t need to see someone about Cole. She simply pretends that he’s at school or in the hospital and just not home. She doesn’t allow herself to think about him being dead and she thinks about him and all their memories together daily. I also know that she doesn’t really talk about Cole to me and she said I cry all the time so she doesn’t want to make me cry or see me cry because it makes her sad. With everything going on, I scheduled an appointment for her to meet a therapist, specializing in grief, to see how this would go.

We show up to the office and there are sounds of waves crashing the shoreline in the office. Lexi, immediately starts giggling saying that it sounds like someone is peeing. I chuckle too because it’s a little funny and I also know she is nervous and this laughter will calm her nerves. We wait in the room until some lady walks in and looks at Lexi and says you wouldn’t happen to be Lexi are you? Lexi smirks, looks at me, looks back at the lady, and says yes. We all walk into the office across the hall where Lexi and I sit on a couch across from this lady. The therapist begins talking a little about herself and her pets and then she jumps into some of the confidentiality parts of therapy and how Lexi is twelve so she can tell this lady things and she will not let it leave that room. After a few minutes, she asked Lexi if she would like me to stay or leave. Lexi shrugs her shoulders, but I volunteer to leave because I know Lexi will talk more without me there. I go back across the hall to the waiting room, with the sounds of waves or pee(whichever you’d prefer) where I pick up a Psychology Today magazine. I immediately flip to a page where two sisters are diagnosed with the exact same breast cancer within the same year. As I’m reading, I’m wondering why in a therpists office would they not filter through to ensure there’s positive reading material, after all, if people are sad they probably should read things that will help lift them up. Anyways, I don’t even finish the article that I was only partially paying attention to as I was too consumed thinking about Lexi and how she was doing. The lady and Lexi come walking into the room and they get me to join them again. Back to the same office with the big couch sitting across from her seat, what looks to be like a comfy recliner. Lexi scoots close to me, literally, my leg touching hers. The lady starts before she even sits down giving me her condolences on Cole. I try so hard because Lexi is right there and I don’t want to cry, but I can’t help it and the tears stream down my face. I quickly wipe them away and begin attentively listening to her feedback on Lexi. She begins by saying that Lexi is lucky to have such a good group of friends that are supportive and there for her. She goes on to saying she does well in school and has good attendance. Now she begins describing Lexi’s love for animals, specifically her cat and sugar glider. She brings up Lexi’s love for the show Super Natural and states she loves that show too. I try to loosen things up a bit and make a joke asking the therapist if she, too, has Dean (a guy from the show) on her wallpaper of her phone. Lexi puts her hand over her face in slight embarrassement but smirks proudly too. The lady smiles and says no, but she could be doing way worse and that’s harmless. I think to myself, no shit it’s harmless. I turned out alright and I had Devon Sawa, Brad Pitt, and many others all over my wall, just not my phone because we didn’t have cellphones back then. She wraps the conversation up by stating that most kids she sees are really struggling and she believes Lexi has a very solid support system, which many of her patients are missing. I step in because what I don’t want is for this to turn into something I insisted on because I think anything less about Lexi. I confirm I know Lexi has a great life, is unbelievably resilient, and an overall impressive person. However, all that being said, she was put through an incredibly traumatic event of losing her brother and I don’t want to expect that she knows how to cope with this because none of us truly do. I tell the lady that her coming to see you was simply so she could open up, if she wanted to, about her brother with someone that didn’t have ties to him and so they wouldn’t get emotional. Also, I wanted to ensure (if needed) Lexi has coping mechanisms for how to deal with this tremendous loss. The lady looks at Lexi and says Mom makes a good point. I’m someone you can talk to and nothing leaves this room, do you want to come back again? Lexi shrugs her shoulders. The therapist expresses her strong feelings on making sure she never creates a negative experience. It’s important for her to ensure that if therapy is ever really needed in the future, it’s always a welcomed avenue. We end on a positive note where I can email this lady within a week and let her know if Lexi will be coming again. I could tell by Lexi’s body language that the answer was no, but what I could’ve never prepared for is what happened when we got in the car.

As we are walking out she grabs a handful of candy from a bowl on the table and says this is the only good part of therapy. Lexi is funny like both Mark and I so I don’t think much of it. We get in the car and I’m super curious with how things went because really the only one who spoke in that room, at least when I was present, was the therapist. However, I knew based on the details she was discussing, Lexi had to have opened up or at least answered a bunch of questions. Lexi says I hate that lady! What!? What happened? She begins going into detail about what transpired. The first question the therapist asked her was why are you sitting here. Lexi says because my parents think I watch too much Super Natural. I chuckle and say yeah right, is that what you told her? Lexi says, it’s true right that’s why you and Dad limit how much I watch? Yes, we limit how much you watch because everything in life is about moderation, but that is not at all why I wanted to give you an opportunity to speak to someone. Now the tears start rolling and the uncontrollable sadness comes out from Lexi. I don’t see this often and this is what (I suppose) I kind of expect with the loss of Cole. Nonetheless, she describes in detail how this therapist kept asking how Cole died once Lexi divulged that her brother had passed away. Lexi told me she hates reliving the story, she hates talking about it because it makes her sad and angry at the Doctor. She went into detail about the procedure and how Cole never came home. Lexi described that she doesn’t want to be sad and she deals with Cole by pretending like it never happened and he’s still alive. My heart, what’s left of it, literally sinks. She continues to explain that you’re the one, Mom, that taught me that I can choose happiness. This is what I’m choosing and it’s not good enough for you! Do you want me to be sad all day and miserable? I do think about Cole every second of everyday, but not like he’s gone, like he’s still here and the happy memories. I tell her how much I love her and I confirm that her grieving process is not wrong. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. I tell her I’m proud of her for giving therapy a chance and I confirm what the therapist said. We don’t want to create a negative experience because one day if therapy is needed, a negative prior experience may prevent someone from getting the help they truly need.

We ended up going to a Japanese steakhouse to have sushi while Mark was at the draft night in Chicago. It was a nice Mother daughter evening and we had a lot of really good discussions. We discussed how it’s ok sometimes to not feel ok and it’s also important to never be apologetic about it. I always want Lexi to know that it’s not a bad thing to see a therapist and if more people did it and had the access maybe our society would have a better perspective and ultimately lead to more success and less sadness. Overall, seeking therapy or professional help is not a one-size-fits-all solution, especially when dealing with trauma or loss. While therapy can be incredibly beneficial for some individuals, others may find alternative ways to cope or heal. Factors like personality, coping mechanisms, support systems, and individual resilience play significant roles in determining whether therapy is necessary or helpful for someone. It’s important to recognize that everyone’s journey through grief and trauma is unique, and what works for one person may not work for another. Therefore, it’s crucial to respect individual differences and choices when it comes to seeking help and healing.