The person who asked this question was anonymous, and I will paraphrase her comment. She'd too had extreme heartbreak. Divorced, with a child to raise all by herself. Plunging into work had taken her mind off her loss, and eventually she got better. She suggested to the author of the article that if she doesn't have a job, to get one. She wrote that author of this article about widowhood appears to be making her grief her vocation, and it doesn't seem to be doing her much good. The inference is that this widow has no talent for helping herself, let alone others.
I rolled my eyes. Granted, wailing in public can make people mighty uncomfortable, but...
There's no 'one size fits all' way to grieve, and yes, some people have made it a vocation. And helped a lot of us. We already know the idea of healing is to get through grief. To get some perspective. So whatever method floats your boat through grief is the right way to do it. For me it was writing publicly, plus taking up bicycling and swimming. And dating, and traveling, and designing and sculpting, and and and. Perhaps the writer of this article writes precisely so she CAN get grief off her chest. Release it to an editor. See it in black and white.
That's when it hit me. I've been wondering for a few months what the point is for writing posts here. IT - THE GRIEF - REALLY IS OVER FOR ME. There is nothing left of the life I once knew. I'm totally O.K. with this. I don't need its foundation. The resistance I once felt about living an entirely different life than the one I'd loved has vanished. As my readers know, I had my remedies to heal and some of them flopped. Big deal. Where there was once was pain and concern there is now peace and permission to glow. Grief has quietly concluded its usefulness in my life. So, why read these articles, and why beat a dead horse here?
Yes, I did need to write about my process, like the author of the article I read last night. I set out to heal without paying a counselor, to heal without wearing out people too kind to tell me to shut up, to know joy without taking an antidepressant, to learn without taking courses, to reshape my life in the house he and I occupied. I did it by writing reams of material and ruthlessly editing it, shaping each post into beginning, middle and end. And as the many beginning, middle and ends of posts found their way into print, my psyche was unperceptively entertaining the idea that beginnings, middles and ends are not an enemy at all, but an invitation for another cycle.
If you need to write publicly, please do. You're not taking anyone hostage with your woes. We readers are free to read or click next! You're free to delete a comment you don't like. At some point, someone will read what's going on in your heart and identify with you. You are not alone.
All I can do is hold my hand out from the POST GRIEF shore and encourage you.