Dear Dr. Neimeyer

I lost my young wife after twenty years of marriage. Since then I feel like I’ve moved on; I found a new wife whom I love completely. We’ve raised terrific children.

"I resist becoming close with anyone ...
for fear that they will die."

My problem is that I have an irrational fear of loss. At least once a day I obsess about losing my new wife, our dog, my closest friends, and especially our children. I am consumed with anxiety that I can suffer another great loss at any moment.

I resist becoming close with anyone new in my life for fear that they will die. I lose sleep over this. When I try to close my eyes, I imagine something terrible is about to happen to someone I love. If my wife doesn’t call in, I imagine that the police will be knocking on the door to tell me she was killed in a car accident. When the kids fly anywhere, I cannot sleep until they text me that they’ve arrived safely.

"I imagine something terrible is
about to happen to someone I love."

I wasn't always like this. I became this way after my first wife's death. I’ve taken several prescribed medications for depression or anxiety, but none make this problem go away. I am fine with the deaths of elderly relatives; it’s untimely death that obsesses me. I’d appreciate your thoughts. Harvey
Dear Harvey,

It sounds like the premature death of your young wife was traumatic by any account, and perhaps more so if her death came suddenly or violently, such as through the sort of accident you imagine might take from you others you love. In view of this, it is not surprising that you are hypervigilant regarding the safety of all those for whom you care greatly.

" ... the anxious preoccupation with
further loss through death carries
real consequences ... "

In a sense, life has cruelly taught you that the fear of catastrophic loss is in this sense "rational." As you clearly acknowledge, the anxious preoccupation with further loss through death carries real consequences for your health, as your sleeplessness attests. Just as seriously, your wife, friends, and children are likely to be feeling constrained or even suffocated by your need to ensure their safety, perhaps at the expense of their freedom, spontaneity, and autonomy. Ironically, this can bring about innumerable losses that are quite real in their own right, as they may begin to respond to your vigilance with anger and avoidance, or perhaps in the case of the children, with fearful or phobic narrowing of their lives as a way of managing a world that they have been taught is unpredictably dangerous. The sad result can be damaging to the very people and relationships you most want to protect.

" ... feared situations we need
to master ... we approach
in action ... or in imagination"

Trauma-based learning of the kind you described is not simply something you can talk yourself out of or have medicated away. It requires “unlearning” in the only school that can effectively teach the lesson: the school of experience. This means that exposing yourself, one step at a time, to the situations that you fear for yourself or others, can help you begin to challenge the obsessive equation of living and traveling freely with deadly danger.

It can help to have someone to support us in this hard work, whether the feared situations we need to master are ones we approach in action (e.g., visiting rather than avoiding places or circumstances associated with your wife’s death), or only in imagination (e.g., with detailed mental imagery of your children taking a flight).

In seeking a therapist who can provide structure and support for these brave but important steps, ask for someone familiar with “exposure” treatments for anxiety. Ultimately, your family and your health will thank you for it. Dr. Neimeyer

Henrietta: Fearing the
Loss of Another Child

Dear Dr. Neimeyer,

Firstly, thank you for providing your expertise online. It has helped me since losing one of my twin sons in his late 20s in a motorcycle accident not long ago. This time has been filled with not only grief for the loss of my very close son, but also worry for his twin brother who witnessed the accident and is now suffering from PTSD. They were not identical, but still, exceptionally close, even still sharing a house and most activities together. He is receiving therapy for this trauma, and I believe he has the resilience to make a new life and identity for himself. I was just beginning to feel confident that he would heal, but now he has decided to begin riding his motorcycle again. He says it is something he is passionate about and that he “feels he is closer to his brother when on the road.”

I know it is normal for a grieving parent to be extra worried about losing another child, but in this case, due to the risk of this activity, it is a very rational thought. I realize at the age of 30, I cannot ask him to stop riding, but I do need to be able to come to terms with it so I can continue my own healing and not constantly anticipate living through yet another loss of my only remaining child.

So, my question is, how do I do that?

Thanks in advance, Henrietta

Dear Henrietta,

Whether or not others recognize the “tripling” of your grief, it is important to acknowledge its three sources: in the direct loss of one of your precious twins, in your aching maternal concern for the one who remains, and in the traumatic nature of the death that took your son from you. Like three separate tributaries that converge into a single current, the course of your grief and its volume must grow proportionately. How to navigate these treacherous waters will certainly be a serious challenge, but I will try to offer a few suggestions as you attempt to do so.

" ... seeking the company of others
who have known this tragic form
of loss offers a unique form of
social support ... "

1. Accept that the death of a child under any circumstances is complex. To a greater extent than most losses, it upends the natural order, violates our inborn need to protect our offspring, and produces a grief that can be queued up by a thousand triggers, anticipated or unanticipated, as life moves forward. For many bereaved parents, seeking the company of others who have known this tragic form of loss offers a unique form of social support that is hard to find elsewhere.

2. Channel your concern for your surviving son in healing directions. As you recognize, motivated as we may be to safeguard the living child, ultimately our power to do so is limited by the choices he will make. By questioning his excessive risk taking, but not crossing the line into becoming overly controlling, you will retain more credibility to be heard and taken seriously. Leading with “I” statements when discussing a loss that no doubt has shaken the entire family (e.g., “I’ve really been missing __ lately. Do you think about his absence at family events too?”) can mitigate the sense that you are holding the magnifying glass over him. Likewise, if he is seeking therapy, it can be personally and relationally helpful if you are too … perhaps even with the same family therapist, who can promote mutual understanding and support.

" ... steering clear of these triggers ...
carries the indirect consequence that
you fail to 'un-learn' the fear ... "

3. Stand your ground in the face of fear. Trauma is maintained in part by our understandable tendency to avoid circumstances that trigger the terrible reminders, or re-arouse the complex of horrific emotion associated with the event. But steering clear of these triggers–in this case, the motorcycle and your son’s motivation to ride it–also carries the indirect consequence that you fail to “un-learn” the fear, which can only happen if you (and he) safely expose yourselves–ideally gradually–to the bike … and perhaps even take a ride on it (at cautious speeds). Nothing requires you to do this, of course, but approaching this gradually–even looking at photos of motorcycles or standing for several minutes in the presence of the parked bike with your son or other family members–could over time help diffuse some of the traumatic overlay that can complicate your grief.

This said, it is worth emphasizing as well a paradoxical risk that can arise, especially with young adults, in the presence of such circumstances. Research demonstrates that young male drivers in particular can react to the “terror” aroused by witnessing a fatal crash by themselves driving quickly and recklessly, as if to unconsciously prove their invulnerability. This is especially true for young men who have “thrill-seeking” personalities, or who tended toward unsafe driving to begin with. The inherent vulnerability of a motorcycle obviously compounds this risk. If this in any way describes your living son, talking this through with him in a caring, non-accusatory way would be a wise prelude to the kind of exposure therapy I have described above.

Dr. Neimeyer

Meet Dr. Neimeyer

Robert A. Neimeyer, Ph.D., is Professor in the Department of Psychology, University of Memphis, where he also maintains an active clinical practice. Dr. Neimeyer also serves as Director of the Portland Institute for Loss and Transition, which offers training and certification in grief therapy. He has published 30 books and authored nearly 500 articles to advance a more adequate theory of grieving as a meaning-making process.