I did not expect to feel
physically ill after losing my dog.
When I lost Buster in 2020, I
knew it would be hard and I knew I would be devastated. What I wasn’t prepared
for was how it affected my body. I couldn’t eat properly. I couldn’t sleep or
think straight or hold a conversation without my mind drifting back to him.
Getting through a normal day felt like wading through something thick and
heavy. I remember lying on the sofa feeling like I couldn't breathe properly. I
wasn’t functioning so for a while I stopped trying to pretend I was.
I’m sharing this because I think
it matters for other professionals to understand that pet loss grief is not
just emotional, it is physical. The body goes into a kind of shock and until
you address that first, very little else helps.
Settling the nervous system first
This is where I always start, with myself back when
Buster died, and with the people I work with now.
When we are grieving, our nervous system is in a
state of high alert. The stress hormones are real, the physical symptoms are
real, and trying to think or talk your way through grief before the body has
had any relief is like trying to have a calm conversation in the middle of a
fire alarm.
Simple things will make a real difference.
Slow, deliberate breathing—in through the nose and
out through the mouth (making the out breathe a little longer)—signals to the
nervous system that it is safe.
Body scans, where you move your attention slowly
through each part of the body from head to toe noticing any tension (and
letting it go) without trying to fix it, help bring people back into their
physical selves rather than staying in their head. This practice helps to bring
people back into their physical selves rather than keeping them stuck in their
heads.
Butterfly hugs, where you cross your arms over your
chest and alternate tapping each collar bone slowly, are a simple bilateral
stimulation technique borrowed from EMDR that can help regulate emotion in a
moment of overwhelm. None of these require any equipment or experience and all
of them can be suggested to a grieving client in a first session.
For those with a hypnotherapy background like me,
self-hypnosis for relaxation and sleep is particularly effective in the early
days when sleep is often the first thing to go.
Getting outside, even when you do not
want to
In those early weeks after losing Buster I walked
every day. Sometimes for a long time. I still had my other dog with me which
helped, it gave me a reason to get up and get out even on the days I had
absolutely nothing in me.
I did not see many people during that time and I
think that was the right call for me. Grief needs space and not everyone around
us gives us that space, intentionally or not. I kept away from people who did
not understand, and I made no apology for that. Slowly, on my own terms, I
started to socialise again. But I chose carefully who I spent my time with.
For clients, encouraging gentle movement, a short
walk, some fresh air, is not about fixing anything. It is about giving the body
somewhere to put some of what it is carrying. Yoga, even very gentle stretching
at home, can help too. The point is not exercise for its own sake but movement
as a way of processing something the mind cannot yet put into words.
Eating, drinking and the traps that are
easy to fall into
Grief disrupts appetite. Some people cannot eat.
Others eat constantly. Neither is unusual and neither needs to be shamed.
What is worth a gentle conversation is alcohol. It
is very common for people to reach for a drink in the early days of loss, it
numbs things temporarily and that temporary numbness can feel like relief. But
alcohol is a depressant and it disrupts sleep, which is already fragile in
grief. It can quickly become a way of avoiding the very feelings that need to
move through in order for things to get easier. A non-judgemental
acknowledgement of this with clients can open up a conversation they may not
have had anywhere else.
Encouraging simple, regular eating, even when
appetite is low, and keeping hydrated are not glamorous suggestions but they
matter. The body needs fuel to cope and grief is exhausting work.
Creative outlets and writing
I have found that people either take to writing in
grief or they really do not, and both are fine. For those who do, keeping a
journal, writing letters to the pet they have lost, or simply getting thoughts
out of their head and onto paper can bring real relief. It externalises
something that otherwise just circles.
Art also works for some people. Drawing, painting,
making something with their hands. It does not have to be good. It just has to
be something other than sitting with their feelings going nowhere.
A note for professionals
If you work with clients who are grieving a pet and
you are not sure how to approach it, Gracie's Way has a range of FREE professional
resources, one of which covers grief communication and signposting. It is a
practical starting point for anyone who wants to support pet loss grief more
confidently in their work. Get it here.
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