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As a CRUSE-trained counsellor, I’m often struck by how many clients describe being told they are grieving “the wrong way”, whether that means not crying enough, crying too much, moving on too quickly, or not quickly enough. Grief does not follow a fixed script. Research consistently shows that people adapt to loss in very different ways. Some experience intense waves of emotion, others function outwardly while processing internally, and many move back and forth between the two (Stroebe & Schut, 1999; Bonanno, 2004).
There is no single correct pattern.
What can make grief harder is social pressure. When family or friends, usually with good intentions, imply there is a proper timeline or emotional display, the person grieving can begin to question themselves. That secondary layer of self-doubt can compound distress, particularly when grief becomes socially constrained or disenfranchised (Doka, 1989). Most people gradually adapt to loss over time, but a smaller minority experience prolonged or complicated grief that requires additional support, with prevalence estimates typically around 7–10% (Lundorff et al., 2017).
The key point is this: variation in grief is normal. Difficulty in grieving does not mean weakness, and difference does not mean dysfunction.
What is Grief?
Most people get confused about what grief actually is. Put simply, it isn’t only about the loved ones we lose. Bereavement is a form of grief, but grief itself is broader than that. Fundamentally, grief is about loss — and loss can be destabilising depending on the meaning and importance we attach to it.
Imagine asking your child if they want to drive out for a chocolate milkshake. They light up. They’ve already tasted it in their mind. But when you arrive, the server tells you they’re out of chocolate milkshake and only have another flavour. The disappointment — or even the tantrum — isn’t about the drink alone. It’s about the loss of what they had set their heart on.
That reaction is grief in miniature.
As we grow older, the prizes we set our hearts on change, but the psychology does not. The depth of our response depends on the significance of what has been lost. And just like the child who releases the upset through tears or frustration, you too have a way of coping and coming to terms with loss that is specific to you — and specific to what or who you have lost.
Loss often has layers. When someone dies, you don’t only lose the person. You lose what they represented. That might be companionship, shared history, affection, routine, a sense of safety, even something as simple as a hot meal or being reminded to take your coat when it rains. Grief is not one single emotion; it is an adjustment to all of these secondary losses unfolding at once.
The Waterfall & River
In this model, we can understand grief in the context of forced change.
Imagine you are rowing peacefully along the river of your life. The river represents stability, the familiar rhythms, relationships and routines that carry you forward. Then, without warning, you meet a fierce and powerful waterfall. This represents a future state you are not ready for and cannot avoid. You are pulled toward it. There is no turning back.
The waterfall represents the moment of loss.
You are swept over the edge. It feels like free fall, chaotic, disorientating and beyond your control. When you reach the bottom, you enter the whirlpool of grief. This is where much of the emotional work happens. The whirlpool is not a mistake or a malfunction. It represents the turbulence that often follows destabilisation. Grief cannot usually be bypassed without consequence (Stroebe & Schut, 1999).
At times, when you need to be composed, perhaps going to work or attending a family event, you may swim to the edge and sit on the rocks. Grief quietens temporarily. You gather yourself. When it feels safe, you may return to the whirlpool. That movement in and out is not failure. It is a natural way many nervous systems regulate intense emotion (Stroebe & Schut, 1999).
This metaphor does not capture every grief experience, but for many people it helps make sense of shock, immersion and gradual adjustment.
Where the Dual Process Model Fits
The Dual Process Model of bereavement (Stroebe & Schut, 1999) suggests that people oscillate between two modes of coping.
Loss oriented states involve turning toward the pain, longing and memories connected to the loss. Restoration oriented states involve shifting attention toward daily life, responsibilities and adjusting to a changed reality.
The river and waterfall metaphor can help visualise this oscillation. At times you are immersed in the whirlpool of loss. At other times you step onto the rocks and focus on practical living. Crucially, this movement between confronting the loss and engaging with life is considered adaptive. You may feel flooded one day and steadier the next. You may function for weeks and then feel unexpectedly emotional after a reminder.
This is not regression. It is regulation. Continuous immersion can overwhelm. Continuous avoidance can stall adaptation. Moving between the two supports gradual integration.
George Bonanno’s research on resilience further demonstrates that many people maintain outward stability even while grieving deeply (Bonanno, 2004). Visible distress is not the only marker of love.
When Grief Becomes Harder
What can complicate grief is not only the loss itself, but the social response to it. Experiencing multiple losses does not automatically mean grief becomes complicated. For many people, it becomes overwhelming, which is different. Overwhelm reflects the cumulative impact of destabilisation. In some cases, however, repeated losses can increase vulnerability to prolonged or more intense grief responses (Lundorff et al., 2017).
I have seen clients experience several bereavements within a short space of time and begin to fear loss itself. After repeated disruption, life can start to feel defined by absence. The world may seem less predictable. The fear shifts from grieving what has gone to bracing for what might go next. This does not necessarily mean something is clinically wrong. It can reflect a nervous system that has learned that attachment now carries heightened risk.
When family or friends, usually with good intentions, imply there is a proper timeline or emotional display, the person grieving can begin to question themselves. This has been described as disenfranchised grief (Doka, 1989), where grief is minimised, misunderstood, or not socially validated.
It is also important to recognise that those around us may be grieving differently. They may have their own process unfolding, which looks unlike ours. Or, if they are not directly connected to the loss, they may be reacting to the change they see in us. Grief alters us. It can make us quieter, more withdrawn, or less available. Others may feel unsettled by that shift. Sometimes the pressure to “snap out of it” reflects their discomfort rather than your dysfunction. They may take reassurance or stability from who you were before the loss.
The secondary suffering often sounds like:
“I should be further along.”
“Why am I not coping like others?”
“Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
Most people gradually adapt over time. Adaptation does not mean forgetting. It means the loss becomes integrated into your life rather than dominating it.me. However, a smaller minority, typically estimated around 7–10%, experience prolonged grief that significantly impairs functioning (Lundorff et al., 2017). That does not reflect weakness. It reflects complexity, attachment depth, and sometimes unresolved relational dynamics.
Grief in Today’s World
Modern culture rewards speed, productivity, and composure. We are encouraged to return to work quickly, to be strong, to carry on.
But grief is not efficient. It is cyclical. It is relational. It reshapes identity.
In a world of constant distraction, it can be tempting to suppress the waterfall or dam the river. Yet unprocessed grief often resurfaces later as anxiety, irritability, numbness, or exhaustion.
The task of grief is not to eliminate pain. It is to integrate the loss into your life story without erasing the bond.
How Do I Know If I’ve Grieved?
Grief does not have a clean endpoint.
One possible sign of adaptation is that you can talk about the person or what was lost without being overwhelmed every time. Emotion may still arise, especially around anniversaries or reminders, but it no longer destabilises you in the same way.
Another sign is that you can imagine your future without what or who you have lost and hold that picture with some steadiness. There may still be sadness, but there is also meaning, direction or hope.
Grief does not disappear (Klass, Silverman, & Nickman, 1996). The relationship changes form. What was once acute pain becomes something woven into your life story.
Remember, it is a process that belongs to you. Everybody is different. Take your time and enjoy your grief because it will be one of those times where you can make proper sense of the world around you.
When to Seek Support
You might consider counselling if you feel stuck in your grief in a way that feels frightening, unmanageable or persistent (American Psychiatric Association, 2022). Perhaps social pressure to move on is compounding your distress. Perhaps you cannot make sense of what you are experiencing. Maybe avoiding grief is increasing anxiety or strain in relationships. You may also notice guilt or shame attached to the loss.
Counselling does not impose a timeline. A counsellor’s role is not to rush your grief or to grieve for you. It is to create conditions where your natural process can unfold more safely. Sometimes that involves gently reducing avoidance or exploring unresolved elements of the relationship.
For some clients, creative methods can help where words feel difficult. Objects such as stones or shells may provide something tangible to connect with memory or meaning. These approaches are always used carefully and only if they feel appropriate and safe.
The One Thing to Remember
If it still hurts, it makes sense.
Grief is not a flaw in your coping system. It is evidence that something — or someone — mattered.
There is no deadline so do grief in your own time and in your own way, and don’t let anybody tell you different.
Sources
American Psychiatric Association. (2022). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed., text rev.; DSM-5-TR). https://doi.org/10.1176/appi.books.9780890425787
Bonanno, G. A. (2004). Loss, trauma, and human resilience: Have we underestimated the human capacity to thrive after extremely aversive events? American Psychologist, 59(1), 20–28. https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.59.1.20
Doka, K. J. (1989). Disenfranchised grief: Recognizing hidden sorrow. Lexington Books.
Klass, D., Silverman, P. R., & Nickman, S. L. (1996). Continuing bonds: New understandings of grief. Taylor & Francis.
Lundorff, M., Holmgren, H., Zachariae, R., Farver-Vestergaard, I., & O’Connor, M. (2017). Prevalence of prolonged grief disorder in adult bereavement: A meta-analysis. Journal of Affective Disorders, 212, 138–149. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2017.01.030
Stroebe, M., & Schut, H. (1999). The dual process model of coping with bereavement: Rationale and description. Death Studies, 23(3), 197–224. https://doi.org/10.1080/074811899201046