Dealing and Managing Grief: A Personal Journey of Healing

Grief is one of the most complex and challenging emotions humans experience. For me, it started when I was just a young teen, and it would shape how I approached loss and emotional pain for many years. It began with the sudden loss of my grandfather, an extraordinary man who had lived a full life—working as an ironworker, boxing as a young man, and sharing his stories of resilience and strength with me.

I spent countless hours with him, asking questions, sharing experiences, and learning about his life. He was a constant in my world, a rock I could always count on. I remember biking long distances just to spend more time with him, soaking in every bit of wisdom he was willing to share. But when he passed away unexpectedly when I was 19, the world as I knew it shattered. It was my first real encounter with the permanence of death, and the idea that loved ones—especially the ones you feel closest to—won’t always be there. That thought alone left a void that I carried for the rest of my life.

As a teenager, I didn’t have the tools or understanding to process this loss. I believed the people in my life would always be there, and suddenly, that belief was broken. The sorrow I felt in losing my grandfather wasn’t just about missing him—it was the abrupt shift in my worldview, one that I would later realize would influence how I dealt with all grief throughout my life.

Grief in the Face of War

As life went on, my experiences with loss only deepened. Later, I was deployed as a soldier to a war-ravaged country as part of a United Nations mission. There, I was exposed to the grim realities of war—death, suffering, and the loss of everything people hold dear. Witnessing the devastation left by war was heartbreaking. But the most painful part was the overwhelming guilt of not being able to do more for the local people who were caught in the crossfire.

This guilt followed me, compounded by the tragic loss of several friends and colleagues who served alongside me. Many of them tragically took their own lives, leaving behind their families and a sorrow I couldn’t fully comprehend at the time. Again, I didn’t realize it then, but this grief was slowly stacking on top of the loss I had already experienced as a child.

The Burden of Bottling Up Grief

For years, I continued in a similar pattern—shutting down my emotions, locking them away in what I now recognize as a "box." When I transitioned to become a Military Police Officer and later a major crimes investigator, I was regularly exposed to death, violence, and the pain of others. From suicides to violent crimes against children, every case carried its own emotional weight. But I didn’t know how to process it. The only way to survive was to “put it in the box” and deal with it later. It wasn’t just about my work; it became a way of life. I thought I had to push it all down—keep it buried to function.

But the emotional toll kept building. Every deployment, every tragic loss, whether it was a soldier or a loved one closer to home, added another layer of grief to the box. And then, I lost my father-in-law—a man who had mentored me in ways that I can never fully describe. Losing him was another blow. But by then, I had become so accustomed to burying my feelings, that the loss only deepened the sense of sadness I carried.

The Consequences of Suppressing Grief

The truth is, for years I lived with chronic depression and sadness. I constantly felt a sense of unrest, like something wasn’t quite right, yet I didn’t know how to fix it. I would change jobs, move cities, seek distractions, hoping that by doing something different, I couldn't shake the heavy sadness that seemed to follow me everywhere. I didn’t realize it at the time, but all those emotions—those unresolved griefs—were simmering beneath the surface, never dealt with, always eating away at me.

During Remembrance Day, when the memories of those we lost were fresh and raw, I found myself overwhelmed by a deep sadness that felt almost unbearable. But I wouldn’t allow myself to cry. I wouldn’t let myself show that emotion. Society had conditioned me to believe that grief, vulnerability, and tears were weaknesses. The trick, I thought, was to leave the box alone.

A Turning Point

It wasn’t until I hit rock bottom that I realized just how much I was suffering. I ended up at a mental health facility, broken, lost, and unsure of how to move forward. But there, I met the one person who would change everything—a therapist who showed me that the way I had been dealing with grief was killing me. She helped me see that I had never fully grieved the many losses in my life.

What I learned through therapy was profound: grief is not something to run from or suppress. It’s something that needs to be acknowledged, processed, and released. I had lived for so long trying to manage my grief by stuffing it away in a box, but eventually, that box becomes too full, too heavy to carry. And when you leave it unchecked for too long, the pressure it creates can become unbearable.

The path to healing wasn’t easy. It was painful, and at times, I didn’t think I could handle it. But through therapy, I slowly began to unpack the grief from that box, one painful memory at a time. I learned that it’s okay to feel sadness. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to show emotion. We need to allow ourselves the space to mourn, to grieve, and to process loss in our own time and way.

A Lesson in Healing

Today, I can say that I no longer carry the burden of that box. It was through the love and support of others, the patience of therapy, and the permission to feel that I found my way to healing. I don’t have all the answers, and I still have difficult days, but I now know that grief is a natural part of life and that it’s not something we should hide from.

If there’s one lesson I can share from my journey, it’s this: don’t bottle up your emotions. Let your grief run its course. Lean on the people around you, and don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it. Healing is possible, but it requires vulnerability, acceptance, and patience with yourself.

Grief doesn’t have a timeline, and there’s no “right” way to grieve. But there is a way forward—one that’s filled with understanding, compassion, and the courage to feel deeply. And that’s the first step in finding peace with the pain.

Let me know in the comments below your experiences, your way to deal with grief or any questions you may have.