I Can't Face It
APRIL 11, 2008 TAGS:
By Gigi Anders

Grief. I’ve been experiencing it and thinking about it ever since my father died in June of 2006. Not just grief over my dad, but grief over some of the behavior of people at his funeral.
Almost two years went by and I could not shake my disappointment. So I called my old friend Manny to help me understand my feelings. Manny Roman is a Maryland psychiatrist and psychoanalyst. He’s my Freudian oracle, and through the years I’ve consulted him on tough, intimate matters.
We had a long conversation, and afterward I felt much better. Maybe his insights will help you, too, if there’s a behavioral crisis at the next funeral you attend:
Gigi Anders: Manny, I was appalled by what I witnessed at my dad’s funeral. What a time for people to act out!
Manny Roman: Funerals are the types of events that trigger unresolved family issues. The weight of the grief and the history of unresolved conflicts with each and every person there gets activated. So meltdowns are common.
GA: You don’t see it as much at happy events, though. Weddings, say.
MR: No, because grief and loss are more challenging and demanding on the psyche than pleasure and joy. With celebrations, the happiness of the day helps you suppress bad feelings. People are more likely to say, “I’m in a forgiving mood today,” or “We’ll deal with that later.” It’s easier to put unfinished business aside because the event provides gratification, satisfaction, and positive energy.
GA: Why is loss is so difficult psychically?
MR: The psyche’s always looking for a reduction of tension. That’s its main purpose. If the chief demand of grief is to tolerate a state of tension for a higher aim, which is to come to terms with a loss, many people can’t do that. They have no tolerance for frustration and negative emotion. That’s what grief is, really — negative energy — so it’s more draining than enriching. That strain, that load, is what causes people to act the way they do. What did you encounter?
GA: After the burial, one guy turned the event into a high-fiving sports bar. He was Mr. Party Animal.
MR: Denial. He’s acting as if this isn’t a death in the family. “If it is what it is, I can’t face it.” It’s a way to avoid pain. “I’m not interested in feeling grief so let me just do my thing here.” If he’d really accepted his loss, then he could restrain his behavior for the sake of the situation, the mourners, and respect for the memorial service. But he has to go way out of his way to avoid the reality of the death and what he feels about it. He may intellectually know that death is part of life, but unconsciously and emotionally he’s operating as if this isn’t the case.
GA: Another guy took over the event. He blathered away about his health issues and demanded that people bring him coffee.
MR: Often these people have been the cute boy or cute girl and got stuck with that. Makes it harder for them to be empathic. They’re narcissists who see the occasion as an opportunity to take center stage. They are fleeing from pain, away from the grief.
GA: So there are different kinds of flight.
MR: Sure. You can distract yourself by taking flight geographically — not come, leave early — or by picking a fight. You don’t have to move all the way away from the grief; you can take partial flight.
GA: One woman screamed at me because I wasn’t “circulating enough.”
MR: She’s really angry at the loved one who’s died. “That son-of-a-bitch left the family alone.” And sometimes guilt like that is intermingled with relief. “I must be a bad person because I’m glad he’s finally gone.” And yet, that may be an appropriate feeling if someone has had a lingering illness.

GA : One acquaintance made fun of people’s weight and clothes. He spent the afternoon reading Vanity Fair and taking desserts off other people’s plates.
MR: The main theme here is flight from the pain of grief. All these behaviors are variations on the theme of avoidance. And this guy’s behavior is part and parcel of his personality.
GA: He couldn’t handle it.
MR: A funeral is a raw environment. It’s kinda tough to stay in touch with grief, especially if you’re not close to the deceased. If you’re close, you have no choice. You can’t get away from it and don’t want to get away from it. But if you’re there as an acquaintance, a business associate, whatever, the whole sad atmosphere that permeates the occasion may not be tolerated well.
GA: He’s withdrawing from what’s going on because for him, there was no point being there?
MR: Yes. I was at a funeral a few years ago. In the back pew, two people pulled out a deck of cards and played a game. They were there for show and not feeling much of anything. That leads to boredom because you’re not plugged in at all.
GA: Another acquaintance expected me to comfort her. She’s a recent widow. She was bawling her head off and wouldn’t leave me alone.
MR: If she had any self-awareness, she might decide not to go to the funeral or she might make a special effort ahead of time to steel herself and keep it together so her angst wouldn’t become the main event. Sounds like she “forgot” to grieve for her husband at the time of his death.
GA: “Forgot”?
MR: She might’ve distracted herself from her pain by getting busy, putting together an outstanding series of funeral events, planning every detail, subsuming herself in little touches. It’s dissociative. And if that death was tragic, then in losing a loved one, she suffered a loss of part of herself, like the amputation of a limb.
GA: How so?
MR: Losing a loved one is painful, but it doesn’t diminish you. But for a person like that, losing her partner meant losing part of herself, it made her feel incomplete, less than she was. That often motivates overdone behavior.
GA: What’s your best advice for dealing with these people?
MR: The what-to-do isn’t very exciting, frankly. There’s no set little red book. A funeral is a singular occasion, and if you’re a relative, you’ve got your hands full dealing with your feelings. So unless the person is acting really badly, badly in the extreme, you just ride it out. You don’t go and fix everything that you see.
GA: Rise above it?
MR: If you know what you’re doing and you understand the situation, you don’t have to rise above anything.
Gigi Anders is author of Jubana! and Little Pink Raincoat.

Grief. I’ve been experiencing it and thinking about it ever since my father died in June of 2006. Not just grief over my dad, but grief over some of the behavior of people at his funeral.
Almost two years went by and I could not shake my disappointment. So I called my old friend Manny to help me understand my feelings. Manny Roman is a Maryland psychiatrist and psychoanalyst. He’s my Freudian oracle, and through the years I’ve consulted him on tough, intimate matters.
We had a long conversation, and afterward I felt much better. Maybe his insights will help you, too, if there’s a behavioral crisis at the next funeral you attend:
Gigi Anders: Manny, I was appalled by what I witnessed at my dad’s funeral. What a time for people to act out!
Manny Roman: Funerals are the types of events that trigger unresolved family issues. The weight of the grief and the history of unresolved conflicts with each and every person there gets activated. So meltdowns are common.
GA: You don’t see it as much at happy events, though. Weddings, say.
MR: No, because grief and loss are more challenging and demanding on the psyche than pleasure and joy. With celebrations, the happiness of the day helps you suppress bad feelings. People are more likely to say, “I’m in a forgiving mood today,” or “We’ll deal with that later.” It’s easier to put unfinished business aside because the event provides gratification, satisfaction, and positive energy.
GA: Why is loss is so difficult psychically?
MR: The psyche’s always looking for a reduction of tension. That’s its main purpose. If the chief demand of grief is to tolerate a state of tension for a higher aim, which is to come to terms with a loss, many people can’t do that. They have no tolerance for frustration and negative emotion. That’s what grief is, really — negative energy — so it’s more draining than enriching. That strain, that load, is what causes people to act the way they do. What did you encounter?
GA: After the burial, one guy turned the event into a high-fiving sports bar. He was Mr. Party Animal.
MR: Denial. He’s acting as if this isn’t a death in the family. “If it is what it is, I can’t face it.” It’s a way to avoid pain. “I’m not interested in feeling grief so let me just do my thing here.” If he’d really accepted his loss, then he could restrain his behavior for the sake of the situation, the mourners, and respect for the memorial service. But he has to go way out of his way to avoid the reality of the death and what he feels about it. He may intellectually know that death is part of life, but unconsciously and emotionally he’s operating as if this isn’t the case.
GA: Another guy took over the event. He blathered away about his health issues and demanded that people bring him coffee.
MR: Often these people have been the cute boy or cute girl and got stuck with that. Makes it harder for them to be empathic. They’re narcissists who see the occasion as an opportunity to take center stage. They are fleeing from pain, away from the grief.
GA: So there are different kinds of flight.
MR: Sure. You can distract yourself by taking flight geographically — not come, leave early — or by picking a fight. You don’t have to move all the way away from the grief; you can take partial flight.
GA: One woman screamed at me because I wasn’t “circulating enough.”
MR: She’s really angry at the loved one who’s died. “That son-of-a-bitch left the family alone.” And sometimes guilt like that is intermingled with relief. “I must be a bad person because I’m glad he’s finally gone.” And yet, that may be an appropriate feeling if someone has had a lingering illness.

GA : One acquaintance made fun of people’s weight and clothes. He spent the afternoon reading Vanity Fair and taking desserts off other people’s plates.
MR: The main theme here is flight from the pain of grief. All these behaviors are variations on the theme of avoidance. And this guy’s behavior is part and parcel of his personality.
GA: He couldn’t handle it.
MR: A funeral is a raw environment. It’s kinda tough to stay in touch with grief, especially if you’re not close to the deceased. If you’re close, you have no choice. You can’t get away from it and don’t want to get away from it. But if you’re there as an acquaintance, a business associate, whatever, the whole sad atmosphere that permeates the occasion may not be tolerated well.
GA: He’s withdrawing from what’s going on because for him, there was no point being there?
MR: Yes. I was at a funeral a few years ago. In the back pew, two people pulled out a deck of cards and played a game. They were there for show and not feeling much of anything. That leads to boredom because you’re not plugged in at all.
GA: Another acquaintance expected me to comfort her. She’s a recent widow. She was bawling her head off and wouldn’t leave me alone.
MR: If she had any self-awareness, she might decide not to go to the funeral or she might make a special effort ahead of time to steel herself and keep it together so her angst wouldn’t become the main event. Sounds like she “forgot” to grieve for her husband at the time of his death.
GA: “Forgot”?
MR: She might’ve distracted herself from her pain by getting busy, putting together an outstanding series of funeral events, planning every detail, subsuming herself in little touches. It’s dissociative. And if that death was tragic, then in losing a loved one, she suffered a loss of part of herself, like the amputation of a limb.
GA: How so?
MR: Losing a loved one is painful, but it doesn’t diminish you. But for a person like that, losing her partner meant losing part of herself, it made her feel incomplete, less than she was. That often motivates overdone behavior.
GA: What’s your best advice for dealing with these people?
MR: The what-to-do isn’t very exciting, frankly. There’s no set little red book. A funeral is a singular occasion, and if you’re a relative, you’ve got your hands full dealing with your feelings. So unless the person is acting really badly, badly in the extreme, you just ride it out. You don’t go and fix everything that you see.
GA: Rise above it?
MR: If you know what you’re doing and you understand the situation, you don’t have to rise above anything.
Gigi Anders is author of Jubana! and Little Pink Raincoat.
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