You are grieving, upset, depressed, anxious, feeling alone and lost while finding yourself in a maze of people. Some of those people are family, good friends, co-workers, neighbors — the myriad of human beings who inhabit your world. You used to be able count on them to lift your spirits, trade a smile, give a caring word. Now you barely recognize your life and the people in it. Some are avoiding you as though you had a contagious disease. Even worse are those who speak in a language that cuts right to the bone of your despair. Perhaps you have been on the receiving end of these gems of insensitivity. Here are just a few that you may recognize:

If you’re a current member of a HOPE group or an alum, do you remember your orientation at your first meeting? Many members, even a few weeks after that first meeting, can’t remember a thing that was said. They remember how they felt — the overwhelming emotions that virtually prevented them from speaking, and — also very important — the kindness and compassion of the therapists and mentor who explained the process to come. But what was said? No.

Acceptance — what does that even mean? How does acceptance even happen?

Will acceptance show up? How will I know?

What if I don’t believe there is acceptance? 

There are so many questions about acceptance and no easy answers. Especially acceptance of the loss of a loved one. When someone so important in your life dies, acceptance seems confusing and unrealistic.

Disenfranchised Grief

Have you ever experienced a loss so heartbreaking and no one was there to console you, to hold you, to hear you, to listen to your story, to cry with you, to help mend your broken heart? There was no Rabbi or Pastor to turn to, no group to give you a safe and non-judgmental place to mourn your loss, to heal your broken heart. This is what Disenfranchised Grief looks like. You feel utterly alone and silenced.