Suicide Survivors Part Two: The Parallel Process

In my last blog post, I addressed the topic of suicide survivors, i.e. people who are impacted by the loss of an individual who has taken his or her life. In light of the recent news of the suicides of celebrities who are in the public spotlight, I wish to follow up on my last post by focusing on the issue of "parallel process."

One of the common themes that most survivors will speak about is how powerless they feel in the wake of such a tragic event. Often they feel guilty that they were not able to do more to prevent the suicide. In the presence of the survivor's grief, others can feel powerless as well, not knowing how to best provide support or comfort to the survivor. They may feel compelled to help but are not sure how. I believe that in this particular circumstance, this response differs from other types of losses. We frequently can find ourselves in situations where friends, family members, and colleagues are impacted by the death of someone close to them. Many people have experienced these types of losses themselves and/or have witnessed others who are in mourning.  Yet this may not be as frequent when it comes to suicide. Especially if the person has never experienced a suicide or known a suicide survivor, they can feel ill-equipped to know how to respond.

In psychological terms, we can refer to this experience of helplessness or powerlessness as a "parallel process." It is often the case that the people left behind can experience in themselves a parallel experience to the person who took his or her life, namely that of feeling powerless. We can imagine that the person who saw no alternative to suicide must have felt incredibly helpless, powerless to do anything to improve their situation and feeling utterly hopeless that things can get better. Many of these people have tried multiple things to alleviate their symptoms, such as therapy, medication, meditation, yoga, body work, nutrition and exercise. At the end of the day, none of these things have alleviated the depression, shame, negative sense of self, and other feelings underlying their suicidal ideation and intent.

When others are caught in a parallel process, feeling powerless ourselves, our instinct is often to try to "fix it," to find solutions for the people who are grieving. This stems from the discomfort they have tolerating their own profound sense of powerlessness. I encourage people to sit with this discomfort. Sometimes the most we can do is to simply offer support, communicate that we are thinking about the person who is grief-stricken, and let them know that we care about them. Depending on the specific situation, we may spend time with the survivor, bring them food, and check in with them. It's different for each person. To ask the survivor what would help them can even feel like too much for them; it puts the burden on them to have to respond or even know what they need. Our intentions are coming from a place of a sincere wish to help. It's good to remind ourselves that sometimes just the simple things are a form of help. 

Someone once told me that hearing a friend say, "I'm thinking of you" felt a lot better than if the person asks them, "How are you doing?" or "How can I be helpful to you?" A simple "I'm thinking of you" conveys that you care without requiring anything in return.  

Mourning Losses

When we think about mourning losses we usually think of grieving a loved one who died or perhaps grieving the end of a relationship. Yet, much of the work of psychotherapy involves mourning losses that are less transparent - losses that can be traced back to childhood. This is the type of mourning that I wish to address in this blog post.

Most adult behavior has its origins in our early childhood experiences. We may unconsciously cling to relational patterns and beliefs that stem from the earliest years of our lives. Oftentimes, the reason we do this is to avoid incredibly painful feelings that may arise and engulf us when we allow ourselves to fully access these experiences. To recognize that one's parent was never able to love and accept them unconditionally, that this parent may never apologize for abuse or injuries they've inflicted, that the parent may never change and one may never have the mother or father they have always longed for and needed, that they will never be truly vindicated for the traumas they have endured - to come to terms with such losses is to open oneself up to tremendous grief. People may spend the majority of their lives engaging in all sorts of behaviors that are attempts to stave off such mourning.

Continued avoidance of mourning unresolved losses from our past comes at a devastating cost. People may suffer from depression, anxiety, and any number of other mental illnesses. They may experience chronic pain and health concerns, abuse substances, repeat unhealthy relationship patterns, and find themselves having ongoing difficulties at work and in their social lives. Even worse, they may inflict the same injuries that they suffered onto their partners and children. 

We can understand how not allowing oneself to mourn the death of a loved one can impede one's healing; we may allow ourselves and encourage others to take whatever time is needed to fully grieve, being gentle in the knowing that mourning can take various forms and evoke a gamut of emotions.  The same concept applies to mourning losses that are much more deeply buried. If working through these losses in therapy didn't have the potential to help an individual achieve greater self-awareness, profound healing, more satisfying relationships and one's personal life goals, then there would be absolutely no good reason to ask our patients to undergo a process which has the potential to stir up such pain. Still, I know of no other way to make long-lasting fundamental positive change. There's a corny saying in the business (alright, there are several) that you have to go through it to get through it. I think this expression is rather apt when it comes to this topic of mourning losses from one's childhood.