If you're wondering how to cope with loss, you might ask someone who's recovering from alcoholism. When people enter recovery, they are giving up something around which their lives have revolved for a long time. Suddenly, they find themselves facing the world without the substance or behavior they've depended upon to numb their pain. They may have also lost their family, friends, job or self-esteem because of their chemical abuse.

With loss comes grief. When people enter recovery, they go through the classic stages of grief. People often approach recovery in a state of denial and anger. They don't want to admit they are powerless over their disease, and they're angry about having to say good-bye to their chemical or behavior.

Then they try bargaining: "I can't smoke marijuana, but I should be able to have a couple of drinks. . . ." Sadness and depression often follow until they accept the reality of their addiction: They can't have just one.

"Part of my job is to give people permission to embrace their losses and feel the feelings connected with them," said Jeffrey Burnoski, a staff chaplain for Hazelden's Spiritual Care Department in Center City, Minn. "Some [recovering] people have anesthetized themselves for many years and are not dealing with feelings of any kind--especially grief. Recovery is the beginning of a thawing out process, a time to deal with neglected grief and an opportunity to acknowledge current losses as well as old losses that have never been faced."

Group discussion--a process familiar to people in recovery--greatly helps people deal with grief. "There's a grief chamber and it doesn't matter what doorway you go through to enter it," Burnoski said. "When you hear one person talk about grief, it's an invitation to reflect on your own loss. Even people who are silent in the group learn a lot by listening, and the door to healing has been opened."

Burnoski urges anyone dealing with grief to seek out a support group. "The more familiar people become with the grief process--whether they're saying goodbye to grandpa or a job or a chemical--the easier it is to believe there is life after loss," said Burnoski.

People coping with more specific losses, such as the death of a child or a suicide, might benefit by meeting with others who face similar losses, suggested Burnoski. He said that churches and hospital chaplains should know of such groups. Many bookstores have entire sections relating to grief and loss.

Losses have long lives, and it's dangerous to advise people to "get over it," or for the grieving person to assume "I'm past it." "Grief is like a submerged log in a river," Burnoski said. "You can't always see it, but a wave of emotion triggered by an anniversary or a memory can bring it to the surface again. The simple act of acknowledging this is very rescuing."

Ritual is often helpful in dealing with grief. Burnoski urges people to write letters to those with whom they have "unfinished business," whether or not the person is living or dead. "Letters just pour out. It can be helpful to share them later, but don't think about that at first. Just write."

Visiting a grave, lighting a candle of loss or remembrance, or planting a tree are other ways to acknowledge and honor grief.

"People think of grief as a bad thing," said Burnoski. "But grief is about good things mostly--it's about love and honoring your heart. What's more important than that? Grief teaches us how great our capacity to love is. This came to me one day when I was talking to a man whose teenage son died three years before. His son used to annoy him by always slamming the screen door. He told me that he'd give anything to hear that door slam again. Grief is really something--when you give yourself to it, it has the power to turn irritating noises into music."

--Published July 19, 1999