The problem is, sometimes it just doesn't fit. The DGI doesn't seem
to understand that one phase of grief does involve tears and anger
and yelling and distress. That is certainly an indicator that
someone's hurting and having a hard time coping. But there's a phase
that's worse than that. Shock is a much more concerning state for
someone to be in. One of the best illustrations of that came from
the television show M*A*S*H*, about an army mobile hospital during
the Korean war. In one episode, a general who sustained a minor
wound is complaining to the colonel in charge of the camp, asking how
long the men have to scream before they get help. The colonel
responds by calmly and tiredly telling him that it's the ones who
can't scream who need to be seen to first.
Shock is what happens when the body is hit and hurt so badly that,
instead of focusing energy on screaming out warnings and alarms, the
concern is strong enough that it starts shutting down nonessential
things. That's why people who are in shock will seem calm, despite
having been badly hurt. It's why they'll pass out, when the body
shifts blood flow away from the extremities and pushes it toward the
internal organs to help keep them alive. If they can stabilize
enough to start screaming, that actually means they're doing better,
not worse.
The same holds with emotional functioning. When the “usual” or
“normal” kinds of bad things happen, people get angry or yell or
cry or otherwise act up. However, when something a lot worse
happens, then some of t he internal parts of the person shut down.
They just don't have it in them to even be able to cry or scream or
yell. If you take a minute and look into their eyes, you can see
that parts of them are just...shut off. They're standing and walking
and talking, but other parts of them are just...not doing anything at
the time. The fact that they're not screaming and crying doesn't
mean they're doing OK. For folks who are in that state, it means the
exact opposite. And they know that something's very wrong, even if
it's not mainly because it hurts. It's because things are numb and
off-line, roughly what I'd imagine it would be like to have an
accident and suddenly realize you can't feel your legs anymore.
At that time, being told how you seem to be doing so well doesn't
help. It makes it painfully clear that people just don't understand
how bad they're doing, how badly hurt they are. Instead of being
reassuring, it tends to end up being alienating...even more than
feeling that broken. So, the tip for today is, don't gush about how
well someone seems to be doing. Instead, just ask how they are, and
then be willing to take the response at face validity. It's more
likely to be of help....trust me.
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