When a loved one disappears
Grief met me in the waiting room of my dentist’s office one morning a few years ago, when a woman sat down in the chair next to mine. This surprised me, because we were the only two people in the large waiting area. I noticed her looking at me, and as soon as I caught her eye she started in on a story about her nephew, who had gone out hiking and never came back.
She was upset, obsessed, bereft. She told me she could not rest, and she felt no peace. She handed me a flyer with a photo of the young man, who had been missing for months. Later that day I did an Internet search and found articles about his ill-fated hike. I thought of his aunt and her raw pain, and how she was consumed with the idea—the hope— of finding him.
This type of loss can take over our lives, leaving us with a sense of dread and pervasive sadness. When someone we love disappears, we may fear additional losses. It becomes painfully clear that we have limited control, limited power to keep our loved ones close, or to keep them safe.
Ambiguous loss offers no closure. We are left brokenhearted and confused. Ambiguous loss is open-ended, so it is hard to imagine relief. Others around us get on with their lives, move on, forget. But we aren’t sure what to do; do we grieve even though the person might come back?
Subtle losses, lonely grieving
Ambiguous loss is not always as dramatic or easily spotted as in the example above. Especially if it occurred early in life, we might not identify a loss as such. In the case of adoption, for example, or the loss of a twin in utero, we know or suspect that something is missing, but we might not know what. Sometimes parents quietly divorce, without explaining the process to their children.
Ambiguous loss sometimes manifests as a change that we can’t quite put our finger on. The quiet movement of aging, a growing distance in a relationship, a dwindling interest in something that used to light up our mind. We may experience a slow, barely perceptible change in identity, sexuality, health, cognitive ability, or values. We come to realize that we have lost interest in our religion, or that an important friendship is fading. Or is it? When precisely did this occur, and how?
Filling the void when grief takes over
Living with ambiguity can be isolating. We might feel we are looking at others through a pane of glass. We might not be able to find joy in family gatherings, soccer matches, or a great movie. A fog of dissociation sets in, a sense of alienation from life, from others. There is a tendency to look for “signs,” to expend enormous amounts of energy longing, searching, and fantasizing. Visits to astrologers, mediums, psychics of all stripes may ensue. A profound creativity can develop, as well as unexpected proclivities for perception beyond the norm: heightened intuition and even telepathy, and prescient dreams and visions. What seem like mystical experiences or a preternatural talent for reaching deep meditative states may actually be the result of a lack of containment and groundedness. Part of the mind is “out there,” always searching. Under this spell of longing for the missing, one is never quite present.
Life does go on, in spite of the loneliness and constant heartache. Therapy can help, because it provides a place of non-judgment where the therapist listens and holds space and is sad with you, but is not overwhelmed by your sadness. The guilt and shame that can accompany ambiguous loss can be processed in therapy. Little by little a sense of being real returns, the fantasies calm down, and the bare agony of loss is faced. The grief remains, but we cultivate the strength to live with the terrible reality that what is missing may never be found, or regained. Yet somehow (call it the human spirit!) it is possible to find oneself and to feel whole once again.