Learning to Grieve

*Trigger warning* This blog talks about death and grief which we understand can be upsetting.

In this blog Carys shares her tips on dealing with loss and grief as a young person

-Carys

Recently, I watched a brilliant documentary on BBC iPlayer by George Shelley talking about loss and grief (you'll need tissues). I immediately realised a huge gap in mental health discussion: why is grief never talked about? Especially grief and loss among young people. Perhaps grief is hard to articulate clearly because it isn't clear at all.

Everyone who comes into this world will experience grief at some point in their life, and it's not something you're ever prepared for. Sometimes you don't even think a death will affect you so deeply, but it does.

In this blog I hope to share some tipsthat I've used when dealing with the sudden loss of 3 friends before age 21, named MR, DB and AW. All three were amazing people and friends I thought I'd have forever. During these rough, emotional experiences I’ve understood a lot about coming to terms with death and I hope what I’ve learned will be useful for others.

1)  Talk about them:

In the documentary, George Shelley mentioned about not even being able to say his sister's name to begin with, which is something I really related to. Since AW died, it's rare I've called them by the name I knew them as. George said to say the name out loud, so I did, and it helped. I sat there in my ball-pool of tissues screaming "AW!" for a good 20 minutes. It felt freeing! Finally, saying the name felt a lot less painful.

2) Let the emotions roll:

I’m all over the place with emotions - sometimes I don't even know if I'm sad crying or happy crying, but it doesn’t matter. There is no right way to feel: I’m allowed to be sad, angry, lonely or quiet if I want to be. It's okay to dedicate time for it too. If I get triggered, I allow myself to take 5 minutes of deep-howling cries or pillow-punching sessions. I’ll then wipe those eyes and start again. I know I'll feel worse if I bottle up these emotions.

3) Remember them:

Facebook’s “remembering" feature in front of my friends' names pulls at those heartstrings. Cover photos picture a moment I desperately wish to re-live. But the photos - and even more so the videos - I find weirdly calming to look through. When someone asks me about framed memories in my room, and the pictures covering my noticeboard, I feel I can talk happily about it. I can remember those times as funny, good, and happy, which they were.

4) Listen to Music

It's amazing how our minds link songs to certain people or memories. Of the 3 funerals I've attended, I remember the first minute of AW's. It's normal for your brain to detach from reality during distressing times- it's called dissociation. I wasn’t able to cry at DB’s funeral and I used to think about that a lot - it doesn't mean that I'm less sad or not as worthy of being there as others (which is what my brain likes to tell me). When I playback the non-hymn tunes played at the services, sometimes memories come out of them, sometimes I get nothing at all. I put on music that we used to listen to together to feel closer to them, or simply feel anything at all.

5) Meditate

Finally, have a listen to this on YouTube. I use when no one is there to listen, or I don't know how to talk about what is hurting.It makes you imagine a person who you need/want to tell something that you've been holding in, and they take it away from you and disappear until you need them again. I'm not the type of person who enjoys meditating, but this clip has helped me so much in life, and it doesn't just apply to grief.

6) Be patient with yourself, and others.

We all grieve differently. It's been 7 months now since AW passed, but my housemates and I are finally all talking again in person and online. The "elephant in the room" or the empty space is still there, and life isn’t the same anymore, but it's getting less difficult. We’re still allowed to have banter and share Gifs in group chats, even with one of us missing.

Thank you so much for reading and well done for getting through this important topic - writing this has been difficult, so I can imagine reading it will be too. Please remember to take some time to practice self-care and look after you.

I'm Carys, a 4th year Modern Languages student at Durham University. As well as my passion for languages and travel, I love talking about mental health and I am one of the Student Minds editors this year. Please get in touch if you have any questions or comments about my work - I love hearing from you!

Talking About Bereavement

Emily writes about bereveament and the impact its intrinsic links with mental health and wellbeing.

- Emily Maybanks

Earlier this year, I was featured in a BBC News article (and a Wales Online article) about the importance of talking about death and dying. Yes, this is a pretty morbid topic. I was speaking to the media on behalf of the hospice charity ‘Sue Ryder’. My Dad was cared for in their Duchess of Kent Hospice in Reading at the end of his life six years ago. The charity was calling to end the taboo surrounding speaking about death. Death is something that inevitably affects us all and not talking about it – in a very similar way that not talking about mental health leads to this too – makes it awkward. 

Bereavement and mental health can be linked. A traumatic life event such as bereavement can trigger mental health difficulties. This is certainly the case in my life and with my experiences. After my Dad passed away in 2012, during my final year of A Levels, it honestly felt as though my life would never be the same as it was before. This was difficult for me to accept. After my Dad died, I was diagnosed with depression and I’ve struggled on and off with depression and anxiety ever since. 

Losing my Dad shapes everything I do in my life. Everything from choosing to go to University, to studying abroad, to writing for and being an editor for the students’ newspaper at University – every choice I make, I wonder what my Dad would say, or how he would feel. Sometimes, this doesn’t help my emotional health at all. Other times, it’s comforting to think that he might be proud of me. One of the things that I have learnt over the past six years is that the pain of losing someone never quite goes away. Yes, it gets easier to deal with, but it never completely vanishes and it is wrong to expect it to. The thought of graduating this summer without my Dad watching me is heart breaking. Every Birthday, Father’s Day, Christmas and anniversary, I miss him so much it hurts. 

Talking about it and being open about how I feel about my Dad’s death is something that I struggled with enormously at first. Once I came to University, I met people who had been through similar things and I felt more comfortable to talk about my own experiences of bereavement. I have also found that talking about bereavement is helpful in helping me to deal with my own emotions and it feels less and less awkward when I do talk about it.  

If you would like to get involved with our Men's Mental Health blogging series, then you can find all of the details here. You can also send us an email at blog@studentminds.org.uk for more details!

My name is Emily (Em). I am currently in my final year studying Modern Languages, Translation & Interpreting at Swansea University, where I'm also the Creative Writing Section Editor and Deputy Editor for The Waterfront - Swansea's student newspaper. I wanted to write for Student Minds because I have experienced depression and anxiety as well as other health issues, and I support friends who have also experienced mental health difficulties. I am also a passionate writer and writing has been important in my mental health experiences - both in helping me to cope with my mental health, as well as sharing my story in order to help others. 

The Perils of Perfectionism

Catrin discusses the effect that anxiety and perfectionism have on university life, and how easy it is to put unnecessary stress on yourself. She explores the high-pressure environment at the University of Oxford, and how stress can be a competitive sport.

- Catrin Haberfield

University is hard. Brilliant, but hard, no matter where you are or what you study. I’m in my third year at Somerville College, Oxford, and I’ve truly loved every minute of it. My course is fantastic – I’ve had the chance to study everything from Beowulf to Dickens, Chaucer to Stoppard, and I’m having a whale of a time researching runic epigraphy for my dissertation. My college is amazing too: the welfare, food, accommodation, and people are all wonderful. But while the past two years have been an absolutely incredible experience, they’ve also been extremely challenging. 

One in four university students experiences mental health issues; at Oxford, it’s closer to one in two. I’m not stating this to gain sympathy, or to try and convince people that Oxford students are ‘special snowflakes’. I know that I’m at quite literally the best university in the world, and I’m proud of my achievements, but it can’t be escaped that standards here are high and so many people push themselves to breaking point just to live up to expectations. To make matters worse, these expectations can often be self-imposed. I definitely think that most Oxford students have a perfectionist streak, but with the sheer amount of work we’re given it’s hard to be 100% on point for every essay, tute sheet, or presentation. All too often, stress becomes competitive, and having four essays and reading list a mile long is worn like a badge of honour. But there’s nothing more futile, nothing more unhelpful, than constant self-deprecation coupled with high expectations.

I’ve lived with anxiety for years, and have struggled with depression and an eating disorder at various points of my life. A lot of these issues stem from perfectionism, and manifest as unhealthy coping mechanisms for stress. Eating disorders and self-harm, for example, often develop as ways to regain control over one part of your life when you feel powerless in other areas. During my first year, my eating disorder developed into bulimia, my depression reached an all-time low, a relationship ended, and my grandfather died. Add all of these things together, and top it off with a healthy dose of two essays a week (plus learning Old English from scratch), and you can see why I struggled. 

But – and this is the important thing – you don’t have to have a mental illness to struggle at uni. You don’t have to be mentally ill to find things hard. Everyone has their own mental health, the same way everyone has their own physical health, and you need to look after both. Stress is a natural part of life, and a certain amount is absolutely a healthy thing. Can you imagine if you didn’t get stressed about anything? You’d never be motivated, or interested, or scared. Life would be boring. But don’t make things harder by putting more pressure on yourself than you need. Set realistic goals, find a balance between work and play, and don’t punish yourself for taking an evening (or even a whole weekend) off. I guess my point is: be nice to yourself. You deserve it.

Hi folks! I'm Catrin, a third year Medieval English Language and Literature student at Somerville College, Oxford. I've always been super vocal when it comes to mental health; I love pushing boundaries and challenging people's assumptions about mental illness. I live with mental illness, so I know how much both the illnesses and the stigma can affect your life, as well as the lives of others. I'm incredibly excited to be a Sub-Editor for Student Minds, and I can't wait to help other people share their stories!

How to: Navigate Uni with a Dissociative Disorder

Recognising mental illness at university can be hard. Especially, as with dissociative disorders, they aren't talked about very often.

-Elise Jackson

University is undoubtedly amazing. However, getting through the first year can be a challenge for many. Moving away from everything that is familiar, meeting a diverse array of completely new people and having to adapt to an entirely new way of learning is not easy, to say the least. For me, the summer before I started university was the hardest of my life. I lost a lot. My mum had moved half way across the country, my family sold the only home I’d ever known and my friends, destined for universities up and down the country, had to say goodbye. This summer of loss was made only more difficult, by a previous, truly world shattering, loss that occurred during my A-level exams. Four days before my 18th birthday, I lost my big brother to SUDEP (Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy). It was one week before his 22nd birthday. We came to terms with it somehow but grieving whilst simultaneously moving house, sitting A-level exams and leaving home for the first time to embark on my new student life, unsurprisingly, proved difficult. 

I struggled. Within two days of being at university, my parents had phoned the university to help me get some support. I was in the counseling service before the end of Freshers. The counselors were brilliant, very understanding, informed, and acted immediately. Thankfully, when I had settled in, things got better fast. My entire block of fellow first years was super sociable. We spent a lot of time living as one huge flat. I was also lucky enough to have one of my best friends from home living two blocks down. Between my block and his flat, housing for second year was sorted by mid-November. Things were going well so I stopped going to counseling. 

But.

 The thing about mental health is that it can fluctuate, it's somewhat unpredictable. Around February time I had to return my mum's new home in Norfolk for a few days because I felt... wrong. At the time, I thought it was exhaustion and decided a few days at home would solve it. And it did, for a little while. These short periods of what I can only describe as fogginess came to every couple of months but always passed within a week or so. Exams came and went and summer returned. 

During summer, I’m often between places. I usually choose to spend most of the holiday period in Sussex as it is where the majority of my friends are. It also means I can be close to my dad’s family. Reflecting on that first summer of University, I think I must have felt it coming to some extent but not really acknowledged it. I went to stay in Norfolk and something hit me like a tidal wave. This time, I was forced to realize that something was going on in my brain that couldn’t be simply solved by a week at home. I lived for a month feeling like I wasn’t in my own body. I felt I was watching life through a hazy screen. Eventually, I found out that I was suffering from DPD (depersonalization disorder), triggered by depression. 

When I returned to uni, I found out about Student Minds and began volunteering for them. I decided I needed to take control of my own brain. My mental health still fluctuates a lot. I’ll often be feeling fine and then become unwell for a few months. Learning how to deal with this has been the biggest challenge of my second year. Dissociative disorders are not often talked about nor are they well researched. During a relapse, I feel drunk all the time or like a robot who can’t feel anything under the surface. Knowing that there are ways to reconnect with your body is the most important thing. I practice mindfulness, meditation and yoga to stay connected to my body and remain grounded. I intend to return to counseling. But as always, more needs to be done, but I remain optimistic that it will.

Hello! I'm Elise. I'm currently in my final year studying English Language and Literature at the University of Nottingham. My writings for Student Minds will range from pieces about depression and DPD to coping with loss, bereavement and change during your studies - all the while remaining mindful and getting the most out of university life. Thanks for reading!