Have you ever felt conflicting emotions so deeply that they have you spinning in circles?
Today I share my personal journey through unexpected opportunities, profound grief, and the coping mechanism that has helped me navigate these changing times.
An Unexpected Opportunity
Less than a month ago, an opportunity came to my husband and me for something we have been talking and dreaming about for at least the last six years. All the necessary pieces seemed to just fall into place on their own without much real effort on our part, which has literally never happened in my entire life (or so it feels). It was one of those moments where you think, “Wait a minute, this seems too good to be true…” and start to look around to see where things are going to start falling apart.
Of course, there are some logistical hoops to jump through to make this opportunity happen, but nothing crazy. Just a 100-mile move of an entire house, a business, a large dog, and a toddler. 🫠 Nothing that hasn’t been done thousands of times before by people. I anticipated chaos during the five-week period as we move closer to making our big dreams a reality years sooner than we expected. But let me tell you what I didn’t expect...
Grieving Through Change
Grief and Dissociation
Let me give you a little bit of context so you can see the whole picture of what we’re working with here.
In 2020, my husband was finishing up his last year of chiropractic school and I was working fully remote due to the COVID-19 pandemic. We were newlyweds of about six months, navigating the disappointment of our honeymoon being canceled/rescheduled multiple times, a toxic and scary political climate, being at home with each other every day all day, and trying to determine what our next life steps would be.
We decided as my husband neared the end of his graduate program that we would try to start growing our family by having a child. We were successful but found ourselves navigating a high-risk and medically complex pregnancy during a global pandemic in which everything else was already messy and complicated. To help occupy ourselves as we counted down the days until the baby was supposed to arrive, we explored houses, potential cities to move to, and various job opportunities. We dreamed about the life we would be establishing and bringing our baby home to. My husband and I always joke about how when we decide to do something we "don't mess around". We decided to sell/prep for selling in less than a week, sold our house in 36 hours of it going on the market and moved out three weeks later. We then moved in with family while we searched for what was supposed to be the forever house and the safe haven to bring our child to.
Long story short, almost exactly one month before we were supposed to move into our new home, we lost our daughter when I was 30 weeks pregnant. There are no words to adequately describe the complete and utter devastation that a loss of that caliber has on the entirety of your world and life. It's nuclear. And I learned that the world doesn’t stop turning just because the unthinkable happens. We still needed a place to live, and so the house purchase was still happening. I found myself dreading moving into this new place that I imagined bringing my daughter home to. Then, when we got there, I didn’t want to unpack. I didn’t want to get comfortable, and I didn’t want to make it a home.
Finding Solace in Small Things
Small Steps Towards Healing
I couldn’t wrap my head around how this house would ever be an okay place for our family. But time marches on. We did small things: bought rocking chairs for the porch (where I spent a lot of time in my early grief), planted trees, hung photos, and installed shelves. Little by little, I started to see more of us and our family in this space. It slowly became my safe haven and truly the only place in the world that I wanted to be. It helped cocoon me from the rest of the world as I attempted to work through who I am in a world that is completely different to me now. I watched the photos change in our house as our family grew and time continued on. I watched the trees that started out as nothing more than twigs begin to grow and thrive in our yard, all while finding my people in a town that I didn’t think would ever feel right to me.
The Emotional Fork in the Road
Facing New Challenges
I now am finding myself at a fork in the road, about to go down a path less traveled. I’m facing another big goodbye. This time with a place that sheltered me when I could hardly care for myself. I have to leave behind the trees I planted while thinking of my daughter and watched grow, like I should have been able to do with her. And although I know that walking down this new road is without a doubt the right choice for my family now, it is bringing up surges of grief that I wasn’t anticipating.
I keep referencing trees that were planted during my heavy grief. I didn’t even realize when I was planting them or in the subsequent years watching them grow, how attached I had become to these plants. They gave me something to love, nurture, and watch grow when I really needed it. I have to imagine that someone reading this must be thinking, “What the hell is wrong with this lady? They are just small trees.” And that person would be correct to some extent. They are just trees, and you don’t turn down incredible opportunities to watch trees grow.
The Protective Mechanism of Dissociation
Understanding Dissociation
These trees literally and figuratively helped to keep me grounded in some of the moments I was sure I couldn’t make it through. They gave me something to focus my time and attention on to just survive the day sometimes. Leaving these trees feels like leaving that grounding force that was so vital for me and, as a result, grief once more.
Grief is never simple, but for me, it feels particularly overwhelming and distressing these days. I've learned in my dance with grief that it never goes away (and I don't want it to). It ebbs and flows, moving in it's own pattern to a rhythm all it's own. And as a result, my system has been dissociating more frequently in an effort to protect me from the anticipated overwhelm of the unknown dance steps before me.
For those who are unfamiliar, dissociation is a way in which our system tries to protect us from overwhelm. Our mind will work to disconnect from the physical sensations happening within our bodies and our thoughts so that it is easier in the moment to simply survive. And to be clear, all humans dissociate (think driving home from work and not remembering your drive or “zoning out”/daydreaming). During this five-week period, my system has been dissociating on a low level for most of the day. I can tell I’m feeling anxious simply from my behaviors, but access to my other emotions or connecting with others deeply in my personal life right now is just not happening. This is not something that the people around me would notice as it's not outwardly displayed. Heck, I didn't even realize I was doing it until midday on my husband's birthday when I realized I not only forgot to get a cake for him but I also didn't even wish him happy birthday even though I had been talking with him all morning. To say I felt awful is an understatement.
Allowing Space for Grief and Joy
Embracing All Emotions
I’m not doing anything about my dissociation...right now. We are in crunch time right now for getting things lined up for this opportunity and our futures, so not getting things done isn’t really an option. Especially when I know that this finite period of chaos and overwhelm will set us up for years to come. My dissociation, while not how I want to experience my entire life, is actually serving me incredibly well right now.
It’s not uncommon for people to hear the word dissociation and think negative thoughts (that’s severe, mentally ill, blah blah blah). I personally believe that dissociation is misunderstood. It comes out when we are in need. It keeps us safe and gets us from one place to the next. It’s not something that always needs to be “fixed” or “gotten rid of.” In my situation right now, it’s adaptive. It’s working for me, and I’m making the conscious choice to allow it to keep happening rather than trying to dig below the surface to understand it or counteract it in this period of life.
I’ve made the intentional choice to let myself be human and to let my human strategies take care of me for right now.
I know that the only way out is through, and that emotions demand to be felt. I don’t intend to stay away from my feelings of grief forever. In fact, I WANT to feel my grief. I want to go through the grieving process of having to leave what once felt like the safest place in the world to me. The place that kept me grounded during the unthinkable. I just want to make sure I have the space to do it because I don’t want to rush it. I don’t want to force it. And I don’t want to feel resentful towards it. So I'm asking it to be patient while I take care of the physical so I can be present for the mental.
For everyone, reconnecting to themselves and their emotional experiences is likely going to look different. As of right now, I don't even know specifically what getting back in touch with myself might look like. I do know that I will have more time for myself, access to more support and other resources that are going to afford me the opportunity to do what my system needs. If I had to guess that's going to involve a fair amount of talking about my experiences as I find a way to make peace with the curveballs of life once more. I would also imagine that my body will also need ways to release. Be it through movement or intentional rest I don't yet know. I'm open to whatever my needs might be when the time comes.
Conclusion
I’m excited our dreams are happening. I’m so proud of all the things my family and I have accomplished. I’m confident we are making the right choices. I’m happy we are together, healthy, and safe. I also have a lot of grief. I want a system that makes room for all emotions and all experiences. And right now, that means saving the bigger emotions for a time when I can properly tend to them. For me, that is healthy.
Key Takeaways
Major life changes can bring unexpected emotions like grief and dissociation.
Small steps and finding solace in everyday activities can aid in healing.
Dissociation can be a protective mechanism during overwhelming times.
It’s important to create space for all emotions, even the difficult ones.
If you've ever experienced conflicting emotions during major life changes, I'd love to hear your story. Share your thoughts in the comments, subscribe to stay updated on my journey, and let's create a space where all emotions are welcome.
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