I find myself arriving late to the latest cultural sensation, much like the Tiger King craze that captured everyone’s attention during the early days of the pandemic. While the world was immersed in discussions, memes, and binge-watching episodes, I was on the sidelines, grappling with my own reality. Sure, I caught glimpses of the show through reviews and social media buzz, but I missed out on the collective excitement that everyone else seemed to share.
It wasn’t a lack of time that kept me away. As a single parent balancing the demands of remote schooling and career building amid a global crisis, I could have easily squeezed in some viewing time once my kids were asleep. But each night, as I held the remote in my hand, the TV became nothing more than background noise in a house that felt too eerily quiet. Instead, I found myself scrolling through social media, attempting to write, or—more often than not—falling into a mindless internet rabbit hole. I missed participating in those national conversations that used to bring so much joy.
The culprit? I’ve come to recognize it as “grief brain.” Before I lost my partner, I had never heard this term and wouldn’t have understood how difficult it could be to focus on something as straightforward as watching a TV show. Yet, engaging with a story requires concentration, which is hard to muster when you’re navigating the disorienting effects of grief. As Dr. Lisa M. Burrows, a neurologist and author of Before and After Loss, notes, emotional trauma can have significant impacts on our mental state. Grief can manifest as confusion, forgetfulness, and even a sense of detachment.
I distinctly remember the early days post-loss when I forgot appointments, something that felt foreign to me before. I would wander from room to room, unable to recall my purpose. I’d pick up a beloved book, hoping it would provide solace, only to find the words blurred together, incapable of holding my attention for more than a fleeting moment.
Initially, I thought I was alone in this experience. It wasn’t until I read others’ stories about grief that I realized how pervasive this struggle is. Grief is not just about the sadness felt during ceremonies or on significant dates; it permeates our daily lives, reshaping our thoughts and realities. Acknowledging that my feelings were not unique allowed me to extend grace to myself and take the necessary time to navigate my grief journey.
These days, things are a bit easier. Although I might be slightly more scatterbrained than before, it’s likely due to the challenges of single parenting rather than grief alone. I’ve become better at prioritizing tasks and using reminders to stay organized. However, my ability to engage with television shows or books remains elusive. In times like these, when a good series could serve as a much-needed distraction from the world, it feels particularly frustrating.
During virtual gatherings, when someone asks, “What are you watching?” I often find myself mumbling about a show I’ve heard is great, all while feeling the weight of an extensive list of potential shows that remains untouched. I hesitate to mention that I still struggle to watch TV. My husband passed away over two years ago, and I don’t want to appear defined by my grief—because I know I’m not.
This is simply the reality of where I am in my grief journey. I hold onto hope that one day I will regain the ability to enjoy shows and books again. Though I missed out on the Tiger King phenomenon, I aspire to join in on future cultural moments. But the truth is, grief has no set rules or timelines.
All I can do is embrace the version of myself that exists now, the one who has navigated a lifetime of experiences in just a few short years. This version may not be ready for Tiger King yet, but she stands strong for her children amidst a global pandemic. I recognize that healing takes time, and it varies from person to person. However, with self-compassion, grace, and hope, I believe it will happen. I share my story in the hopes that another woman, who might find herself unable to join in on the national conversation, knows she is not alone in her grief.
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Summary
Grief brain can significantly impair one’s ability to enjoy entertainment, as experienced by Kendra Ellis after losing her partner. Despite the challenges of focusing on shows and books, she emphasizes the importance of self-compassion and understanding that healing is a personal journey.
Keyphrase: grief brain and entertainment
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