Grieving and growing amidst nonfinite loss, Part I
This blog entry is provided by Sophie Fox. Part 2 follows next week.
In August of 2022, I contracted COVID-19. What was a largely asymptomatic illness progressed over a span of weeks, triggering multiple physical ailments, and eventually becoming recognized as Long COVID. Over the months that followed, my health declined rapidly. I was diagnosed with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (formerly known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, aka ME/CFS), Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (commonly known as POTS), and Hypermobility Spectrum Disorder. 18 months later, I have come to find my days plagued by intense fatigue, horrible chronic pain, and a myriad of other symptoms.
Within a matter of months following my ME/CFS diagnosis, I became primarily bedbound, was placed on a forced medical leave by my employer, and ultimately lost my job. My entire life and its surroundings became nearly unrecognizable to the person I was before. Prior to illness, I defined myself as a hardworking, career-oriented person with a very active lifestyle. Living in Los Angeles, I kept my schedule busy with regular hikes with my dogs on nearby trails, jogging, attending concerts, photographing portraits and events in my spare time, and was a member of multiple professional organizations within my industry. There was rarely a weekend without plans or a weeknight without something to do. On top of it all, I was newly married and just embarking on a new life together with my husband of just five months - that is, when illness first took hold.
Nonfinite loss is defined as those loss experiences that are enduring in nature, usually precipitated by a negative life event or episode that retains a physical and/or psychological presence in an ongoing manner (Bruce & Schultz, 2002).
For me, Nonfinite loss has taken multiple forms: job loss, the loss of my health, the loss of my social life, the end of newly formed artistic endeavors, the loss of independence, and a total disruption of my life. Now, most days I am in bed, relying on my husband for basic tasks like cooking, cleaning, walking my two dogs, and caring for our cats. I’m able to leave the house on average once a week, either for a doctor’s appointment, or for a simple errand such as to visit a favorite bookstore or the library. Anything beyond these exhausts me to the point of what I call an energy crash, often leaving me in bed with intense flu-like symptoms for days.
Recognizing that this loss was in turn causing grief was important to my ability to cope with the changes in my life. Applying the word grief to my experience gave a name to the emotional roller coaster that I was riding. It helped me analyze the deepest points of pain and sadness that were occurring in my life and aided in my attempt to understand my new reality. Learning that grief can occur in many different forms - not just in death as I had previously perceived - helped me to begin both healing and accepting.
