Pain and Suffering: The Part You Can Change

Anand’s father died in March. By June, Anand had noticed something strange. On some days, the grief was heavy, but he could carry it. On other days, it felt unbearable, and he did not know why.

Two kinds of hurt

Anand’s friend Bilal had lost his mother two years earlier. Over tea one evening, Bilal told him something that had helped him. “There are two kinds of hurt in grief,” he said. “The first is the pain of missing the person. The second is everything that gets piled on top of that pain.”

The first kind of hurt is called pain. Pain is what love feels like when the person you love is gone. It is not a mistake, and it is not an illness. It softens slowly over time, and nobody can hurry it.

The second kind of hurt is called suffering. Suffering is the extra weight. It comes from hurtful advice, from not eating or sleeping, from blaming yourself again and again, and from pretending you are fine. You cannot remove the pain. But you can often remove some of the suffering.

Anand kept a simple record

Bilal suggested a small experiment. For one week, Anand wrote one line every evening. He wrote down what he had done, who he had been with, and how heavy he felt before and after.

At the end of the week, the pattern was clear. Anand always felt worse after lunch with his uncle, who kept telling him, “You must be strong for your mother.” He also felt worse after scrolling his phone in bed late at night. He felt lighter after walking with Bilal, and after cooking his father’s dal recipe on Saturday.

Setting down what he could

Anand could not stop missing his father. But he could change some of the things that made the missing heavier. He kept visiting his uncle, but now he left after one hour. He left his phone in the kitchen at night. He walked with Bilal twice a week. Each small change took a little weight off his shoulders, and he had more strength left for the grief itself.

Bilal also showed him how to tell whether he was coping. Coping does not mean that it stops hurting. It means that you are looking after yourself while it hurts.

Taking a break is allowed

One Sunday, Anand watched a whole cricket match and enjoyed it. Afterwards, he felt guilty. Was he forgetting his father? Bilal told him that nobody can look at their loss all day long. Everyone needs breaks. A walk, a serial, cooking or music gives the mind a little rest. Taking a break is not a betrayal of the person who died.

Some breaks, though, cost more than they give. Anand’s late-night scrolling felt like rest, but it left him tired and low the next day. So he learnt to ask one simple question after every break: did this give me what I needed?

If a break has turned into heavy drinking, drugs, hurting yourself or taking dangerous risks, it is a sign that you need more support. Please reach out for it.

How it went for Anand

By September, Anand still missed his father, and some days were still very hard. But the unbearable days came less often. He had learnt which stones he could set down, and he had more strength to carry the one that remained.