Grief’s Physical Effects

Seven negative Covid tests in the last few weeks prove that the symptoms I’m experiencing are from grief and not the virus.

Tears are easy to recognize as an outward sign of mourning, and they have flowed often from the time mom went on hospice and have continued since her death two weeks ago. However, it’s the internal symptoms that are harder to handle.

Chest tightness happens when I feel the deep sadness of missing my mom, but the tears refuse to come. I was sure I was having a heart attack when I had these symptoms after Mike died and went to the emergency room. My heart was healthy but broken. My remedies for this condition are playing sad music or watching something on TV that I know will make me cry. Most times, this works, but not always.

Fatigue, weakness, and achiness seem to be constant companions.  My sleep is often interrupted, waking up several times a night.  Even if I make it through the night, I wake up as tired as when I went to bed.  I listen to a Yoga Nidra recording when I take a nap, always falling to sleep before it finishes.  Although the point of this practice is to stay awake, I’m grateful that it relaxes me to sleep.  What’s challenging is how physically weak I feel, like I could just fall over at any moment.  Having lived with vestibular neuritis since May 2020, I question if the symptoms are returning.  Although they bear a resemblance, it’s just the stress of loss.

A weird phenomenon began about six years ago.  I will have a day where I have severe sneezing for the whole day.  At first, I thought it was the onset of a cold, only to be perfectly fine the next day.  It was so intermittent and happened regardless of the season that I’ve put it down as just another way that my body handles grief.

This acute phase of grief is genuinely the hardest physically and emotionally.  I try to exercise every day, though some days I’m just too tired, and I eat as healthy as possible.  I went to 1st Friday on Roosevelt Row in downtown Phoenix on February 4th.  Sometimes, it’s just going through the motions of life to get through the day.  I reach out to friends for support so I don’t isolate myself.  I also find joy in my work, even if I’m not feeling great.

The one thing that I learned from my husband’s death is that I have to walk through all this temporary discomfort. The sadness will be there, but the intense pain will ease with time.