03/29/2026
GRIEF IS A SNEAKY BITCH
Yes, grief is a bitch, the worst bitch I’ve ever met, or at least it’s how I feel this morning.
When you lose the love of your life, you think it’s the end of the world, and it is in many ways.
When all is said and done, ceremonies over, etc., you find yourself in an empty house standing there like an empty shell, arms pending at your side staring at the ceiling and ask desperately to yourself: “what the hell do I do now”?
You could escape like so many dos, run until your’e exhausted, work like a maniac to try and forget, but not you, you’re going to do the right thing. So, you set out to do therapy, join grieving groups, read a mountain of related books, watch movies, listen to soothing music and bit by bit, progress is made and eventually you feel sort of capable of joining the world and off you go.
After having gained some assurance in your new found life after grief, you start to look at other grievers thinking that they may not make enough effort, they whine too much, they should suck it up, after all you did it, you got over it, why can’t they? Right? Think again buddy, you forgot one little detail: “grief is a sneaky bitch”
You see, grief works this way; when the dramatic traumatizing moment occurred, your heart was shattered into a zillion tiny nasty pieces that under the explosion logged themselves in every little corners of your being, ready to pounce aggressively at every chance they get to attack savagely. All of a sudden, out of the blue, for no apparent reason, maybe a word you heard, something someone did, a passing thought and voila, all hell breaks loose right in the middle of your breakfast, between two bites of your peanut butter, jelly toast and you feel yourself transported in a world of confusion and crushing pain literally tearing your heart apart as the freaking little bastards being awakened from their hide out attack you mercilessly. Then you die a hundred death again. No time, distance or space will stop this, the little buggers need to have their kill by ripping you apart with their deadly claws.
It will hurt and scare you and will make you cry your eyes out. So don’t run away, face it grab a box of Kleenex, find a quiet and isolated corner of the house, stare at the pain in the face, feel it, go through it and let the crisis pass. It will pass, even though you think it will have your hide; it will pass; it always does. Trust me, I know, as I have been there myself more time than I care to remember. Remember one thing, when it’s all over and you start to feel relief, rest assured that you have gained another victory and you should be very proud of yourself. Never ever forget that grief is a bitch and it could strike again, do not wait for it, do not expect it but if it does come back and show its ugly head again, you’ll know what to do.
By: Dr. Pierre Milot, Ph.D
Grief counsellor
