Ellie’s Grief Checklist
I'm Ellie, I'm 29 and I lost my dad 3 years ago. Which means (unfortunately) I can offer a bit of advice over how to deal with the rawness that is fresh grief.
It's ok to let grief consume you and you have every right to wallow - sometimes, there is no other option. But there were a few thing I tried to do to make it easier when I did have the energy:
I focused on the controllables and fuelling my body - I ate well, cut down on drinking and started running. Sometimes I ran for just 10 minutes, sometimes I ran through the countryside and screamed my lungs out. It wasn’t pretty; it did help.
I consumed media carefully - I made a happy playlist. A 'safe' album of photos of my dad to help me remember him in joyous moments and block out traumatic memories around his death. And for pretty obvious reasons, I avoided any potentially triggering and emotional TV & film (of which there’s way more than you'd expect).
I learnt to be vulnerable and chose to surround myself with 'radiators' - my mum’s term for people who leave you feeling warm, unlike 'drains' who sap your energy. I leaned on the amazing people in my life, but was intentional about who I let in.
I learnt my triggers - While big dates like birthdays and anniversaries were painful, it was the everyday moments that hit hardest. I used to call my dad daily, often at lunch - so after he passed, 1pm usually arrived with a sadness that caught me off guard. I started changing my routine to soften the absence.
I was kind to myself - I absolutely lost the plot and for months. I was superstitious to the point that I truly believed that my dad died because I wore earrings to bed that night - something I never usually did (haven't actually shared that one before). Grief can distort our thinking and result in irrational thoughts; meet them with self-compassion.
I tried to hold on to my humour - A major thing that dad and I always shared is an unserious outlook on life and a cheeky sense of humour, so why should that change now? Never feel guilty for laughing or feeling a burst of joy - it almost always helps.
Things I didn't do so well:
Ditching therapy after one session - I gave up after I lacked chemistry with the first therapist I was assigned. Later, I did return and had a lovely woman who really helped guide my choices. Until then, I coexisted with what I now know to be PTSD for far too long before seeking help.
Taking too much on too quickly, and all at once - I returned to work a week after I got back to the UK, 3 weeks after my dad died. Though I needed stability, I don't think I realised how broken I was. I remember a friend at work messaging me 6 months after and saying how nice it was to see me smiling a little more again. It shocked me that my pain was so obvious and perhaps I could've managed normal life more in smaller chunks.
Being too 'strong' - though I learnt the old vulnerability thing, it took time. I really struggled to open up to people at first and that meant I held onto a lot of unprocessed emotion. Strength doesn’t mean holding it together all the time -sometimes it’s being brave enough to let go.
Becoming too online - I was scared to be out of touch with people and that's a learning I'm still trying to shift. The idea of turning my phone off would terrify me in case something happened to a loved one and I couldn't help them. Practising mindfulness and being strict with your phone are some doable actions.
Spoke to too many robins rather than people – a bit more of an abstract one. Believing in something greater is good, but not if it takes over your waking life.
Ellie is volunteering with us to share her experiences of grief. If you’d like to get to know her and her other posts, click the link below!