A Mental Health Matter:
Learning to Lead through the Grief
Dr. Kelly Bullock Daugherty @DrKDaugherty
@DrKDaugherty
The Grief Behind it All
Two and a half years ago, my life changed unexpectedly. Some years prior, my mother had been diagnosed with early-onset dementia. Sometime after that, stage four kidney failure; and…then congestive heart failure (this diagnosis was received even after having open heart surgery). Scary diagnoses to receive, but doctors assured us that we had some time before we needed to become too alarmed. I wish it had been that simple to accept, but it was more than I was prepared to handle, even early on.
The tables quickly turned as my brothers and I were soon attending doctor appointments, conversing with doctors on behalf of our mother regarding her ongoing and progressing medical concerns, handling appointments, keeping up with financials, household upkeep, and anything else that required mom’s attention and/or approval. The surreality of recognizing that we were now in the midst of the “changing of the guards” was something we could have never truly been prepared to take place.
As time passed, mom’s doctor visits became more frequent, and her hospital stays more prevalent; until finally, she required 24-hour health care, which we managed at home for a while. This required me to limit my work as a self-employed education coach and consultant, and by November 2021, I’d moved back in with my parents full-time. I should note that during this time, my father’s health began to decline and to take care of one parent quickly became taking care of two. They were now my primary priority, and I was becoming a leader in an entirely different capacity.
The days with my parents became weeks; the weeks turned to months; until before I knew it, I had been living with them, away from my own family, for almost nine months, when they agreed to give Assisted Living a try. My mom had been fighting for as long as she had the energy; going to dialysis and making the best of their assisted living experience. Until August 2022, when she finally made the decision that she was ready to rest. She was visibly exhausted, tired of being in pain, tired of all the blood draws and medicine. She was finished. Although I watched her as she progressed, I was not ready. I’d cried with her, laughed with her, argued with her, and comforted her for so long, and yes, I was tired. But, selfishly enough, that didn’t mean that I was ready. Still, I watched as she took her last breath. I couldn’t unsee that for months. Reliving that moment day after day, I wouldn’t wish that type of pain on anyone.
Watching her move through the last stages of her life took a noticeable toll on me; physically, mentally, and emotionally. I began to experience what is called “caregiver burnout” and was diagnosed with major depression and anxiety as a result of my experience caring for my parents and the grief I was experiencing as I was slowly losing my mother. In my eyes, I was not only struggling to function as a daughter, but ultimately, this feeling of distress began to seep over into my professional work as a Leadership & Instructional Coach & Consultant.
Masking the Grief
When I was able to work with my clients during this time, it was an exhilarating release. After all, I was doing what I was most passionate about doing. However, it was also a great challenge because working through the grief that came with watching my mom decline every day weakened me. I wasn’t prepared for what was yet to come. Mom always encouraged me to be a strong, independent woman. She demonstrated it in every aspect of her life. I worked hard to demonstrate the same strength in my life, personally and professionally. I’ve always worked hard to be a strong leader, a problem solver, and a fixer who managed to keep things under control. But this… I couldn’t control this and had no idea how to manage it or even where to start.
So, I learned how to wear a mask, a mask of strength. I played the part of “being okay.” In the presence of others, I learned how to keep my composure on the outside while falling to pieces on the inside. Sharing that I wasn’t okay was a weakness for someone like me. Asking for help was simply out of the question, and leading anyone to believe I wasn’t okay meant I couldn’t manage any of what was occurring and failing as my mom’s primary caregiver. I was supposed to be able to manage this, but I couldn’t. Now, on top of everything else I was already feeling, I found myself conceding to the belief that I was a disappointment to so many that had been counting on me to lead the caregiving charge. Now, that mask I had tried so hard to keep intact every day, began to crack from the tears I could no longer keep hidden inside. I was losing the most important woman in my life, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Addressing the Grief
I learned that the grief was as much of a struggle for those trying to support me as it was for me to deal with. At this point, I knew that it was time; time for me to seek out more resources and support. I could no longer cope with this on my own, and I vowed to try not to burden anyone close to me with my pain as much as possible.
Let’s face the facts; even the best of the best in any field seek assistance to help them evolve along their journeys to greatness. As leaders, expectations are set high for us, and understandably so. As such, we are compelled to know exactly what to say and when to say it whenever a situation arises. It is our job to make sure we are communicating our needs and the needs of those we serve. However, with all that I was carrying, I suddenly found myself unable to form words to explain what I was feeling or how anyone could possibly help me. In fact, the question often evoked more anger and frustration. This caregiving thing was new and overwhelming for me! How was I to respond to such a confusing inquiry? Getting through each day was all I knew how to do.
Those closest to me not only struggled to understand how to support me but also how to protect themselves from my unpredictable and often irrational pain and anguish. I’ve been called crazy, told that I overreact, that I’m hypersensitive, overemotional, and overthinking the entire experience. I suppose these are all accurate descriptions; that is if you do not understand grief, depression, and their correlation to each other. Many people do not, and that’s why those of us suffering make the conscious decision NOT to discuss our internal conflicts out loud. We refrain from placing our burden on anyone else, thinking we are protecting them from feeling the same pain when in actuality, we are causing ourselves more harm. For these reasons, we are seeing and hearing more heartbreaking stories involving self-deprecating decisions, such as increased alcohol/drug abuse, self-harming behaviors, and, of course, suicide.
So, how do we as leaders work through the grief to continue doing the work we do effectively? Let me share what has been helping me move forward.
1. Accept your role as the caregiver. I watched my mom care for my grandmother, and she made it look so easy. I realize now that she only allowed me to see the good parts. It was only within her last year or so that she shared how much she related to the struggle I was challenged with and that she appreciated all that I had sacrificed to care for her. I am grateful for the opportunity to care for my mom, and I can only hope that my children watched and received the same lessons I learned from my mother through all of this.
2. Do what you can, when you can. Make a list. Take care of the things you can control, and don’t ponder too long on the things you can’t. I was reminded of this over and over again, and actually learning to do this (again) took some time. Once I could chunk my responsibilities into shorter, reasonable, obtainable personal and/or daily professional goals (think SMART goals for everyday living), I felt more in control of myself. But believe me, it wasn’t and still isn’t always easy. Try to use each day as another opportunity to get it right.
3. Ask for and accept help. This was incredibly tough for me. My thinking was always, “My parents, my responsibilities”. Asking for and accepting help from anyone, even my brothers, made me feel guilty and inadequate. When I finally accepted the help, I decided to take a short vacation away from home, and this was when I finally realized just how important, accepting help benefited me, my brothers, and my parents. It gets easier the more you practice accepting it until finally, you will ask for it with no shame or guilt. Make this an intentional practice.
4. Take care of yourself. Through all this, do whatever is necessary to take care of yourself. I had to work very hard everyday, to adjust my mindset in order to see my situation differently. As my mom’s health declined, so did my ability to cope. I began with meditation and long walks. Getting a lot of fresh air and exercise became my primary release. I took time to be by myself, time to cry, and time to yell. Take the time to reset, refocus, and recharge. Recite positive affirmations. Read the bible. Go out of town or a stay-cation in town, go to a friend’s house, and what I found to be most important in this, is disconnect! Disconnect your phone, your computer, and your mind from all caregiving responsibilities. Disconnecting is vital. This will allow you to practice mindfulness wherever you are in order to regain balance in your life. You will not regret it, and if you are like me, you will not only adopt all of this as an ongoing self-care practice; you will do it unapologetically.
5. Seek out professional support. Because I had gotten to a point where managing my feelings was too much to bear by myself, I made the decision to seek out professional help. I obtained a therapist, but there are also support groups that allow you to connect with others experiencing the same caregiving challenges. Take advantage of the available help. It will help you learn better-coping strategies and clear your mind of self-deprecating thoughts. And remember, it really is okay not to be okay.
Learning to Lead through the Grief
What we need to understand as leaders is that, first of all, we are not in this struggle alone. While you never know when or what people are dealing with, we should remember that all of us, at some time or another, deal with something that takes us beyond our ability to cope. That does not make us weak; it makes us human. Your grief is your grief. Show yourself some grace. Be kind to yourself and allow yourself to feel your feelings authentically.
Second, having compassion and sympathy for others is great, but this experience with my mom helped me understand that you really do not have a genuine appreciation of this type of grief unless you have dealt with it. To this, I suggest trying, with true intention, to be more empathetic as others work to navigate their way through their grief. Share some lessons you’ve learned. Let people know they are not alone. Be transparent about your experience, but please, don’t force your way of coping on others. It’s theirs for a reason. Many times, all that is required is a listening ear. Don’t assume caregivers are always looking for a solution. Most of the time, we wish to break down into tears and be told, “you got this”, “I’m proud of you”, or even better, “I appreciate all you are doing.”
Finally, allowing yourself the grace to feel what you feel during your weakest moments does not make you less of a leader. In fact, it adds to your capacity to connect and develop relationships with others as well as become a better advocate and ally for others who may be dealing with grief and depression.
Learning to lead through grief is not an easy task by any means, but it is not an impossible one either. It’s a shift in mindset and perspective. So, continue to press on with all the support and encouragement you need, deserve, and desire. Know that I’m proud of you and appreciate you. You got this!
Dr. Kelly Bullock Daugherty is the Founder and Chief Education Officer for Transitions Educational Coaching & Consulting Services. Transitions specializes in leadership and instructional coaching, educational training, and customized program/curriculum development for teachers who work to educate and inspire K12 students. With over 20 years of experience in teaching and leadership, Dr. Kelly is led by her vision to transform teachers' mindset, empower teachers with new knowledge, and increase teacher efficacy to provide meaningful expectations that increase effectiveness and promote excellence in education across the country.
Two and a half years ago, my life changed unexpectedly. Some years prior, my mother had been diagnosed with early-onset dementia. Sometime after that, stage four kidney failure; and…then congestive heart failure (this diagnosis was received even after having open heart surgery). Scary diagnoses to receive, but doctors assured us that we had some time before we needed to become too alarmed. I wish it had been that simple to accept, but it was more than I was prepared to handle, even early on.
The tables quickly turned as my brothers and I were soon attending doctor appointments, conversing with doctors on behalf of our mother regarding her ongoing and progressing medical concerns, handling appointments, keeping up with financials, household upkeep, and anything else that required mom’s attention and/or approval. The surreality of recognizing that we were now in the midst of the “changing of the guards” was something we could have never truly been prepared to take place.
As time passed, mom’s doctor visits became more frequent, and her hospital stays more prevalent; until finally, she required 24-hour health care, which we managed at home for a while. This required me to limit my work as a self-employed education coach and consultant, and by November 2021, I’d moved back in with my parents full-time. I should note that during this time, my father’s health began to decline and to take care of one parent quickly became taking care of two. They were now my primary priority, and I was becoming a leader in an entirely different capacity.
The days with my parents became weeks; the weeks turned to months; until before I knew it, I had been living with them, away from my own family, for almost nine months, when they agreed to give Assisted Living a try. My mom had been fighting for as long as she had the energy; going to dialysis and making the best of their assisted living experience. Until August 2022, when she finally made the decision that she was ready to rest. She was visibly exhausted, tired of being in pain, tired of all the blood draws and medicine. She was finished. Although I watched her as she progressed, I was not ready. I’d cried with her, laughed with her, argued with her, and comforted her for so long, and yes, I was tired. But, selfishly enough, that didn’t mean that I was ready. Still, I watched as she took her last breath. I couldn’t unsee that for months. Reliving that moment day after day, I wouldn’t wish that type of pain on anyone.
Watching her move through the last stages of her life took a noticeable toll on me; physically, mentally, and emotionally. I began to experience what is called “caregiver burnout” and was diagnosed with major depression and anxiety as a result of my experience caring for my parents and the grief I was experiencing as I was slowly losing my mother. In my eyes, I was not only struggling to function as a daughter, but ultimately, this feeling of distress began to seep over into my professional work as a Leadership & Instructional Coach & Consultant.
Masking the Grief
When I was able to work with my clients during this time, it was an exhilarating release. After all, I was doing what I was most passionate about doing. However, it was also a great challenge because working through the grief that came with watching my mom decline every day weakened me. I wasn’t prepared for what was yet to come. Mom always encouraged me to be a strong, independent woman. She demonstrated it in every aspect of her life. I worked hard to demonstrate the same strength in my life, personally and professionally. I’ve always worked hard to be a strong leader, a problem solver, and a fixer who managed to keep things under control. But this… I couldn’t control this and had no idea how to manage it or even where to start.
So, I learned how to wear a mask, a mask of strength. I played the part of “being okay.” In the presence of others, I learned how to keep my composure on the outside while falling to pieces on the inside. Sharing that I wasn’t okay was a weakness for someone like me. Asking for help was simply out of the question, and leading anyone to believe I wasn’t okay meant I couldn’t manage any of what was occurring and failing as my mom’s primary caregiver. I was supposed to be able to manage this, but I couldn’t. Now, on top of everything else I was already feeling, I found myself conceding to the belief that I was a disappointment to so many that had been counting on me to lead the caregiving charge. Now, that mask I had tried so hard to keep intact every day, began to crack from the tears I could no longer keep hidden inside. I was losing the most important woman in my life, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Addressing the Grief
I learned that the grief was as much of a struggle for those trying to support me as it was for me to deal with. At this point, I knew that it was time; time for me to seek out more resources and support. I could no longer cope with this on my own, and I vowed to try not to burden anyone close to me with my pain as much as possible.
Let’s face the facts; even the best of the best in any field seek assistance to help them evolve along their journeys to greatness. As leaders, expectations are set high for us, and understandably so. As such, we are compelled to know exactly what to say and when to say it whenever a situation arises. It is our job to make sure we are communicating our needs and the needs of those we serve. However, with all that I was carrying, I suddenly found myself unable to form words to explain what I was feeling or how anyone could possibly help me. In fact, the question often evoked more anger and frustration. This caregiving thing was new and overwhelming for me! How was I to respond to such a confusing inquiry? Getting through each day was all I knew how to do.
Those closest to me not only struggled to understand how to support me but also how to protect themselves from my unpredictable and often irrational pain and anguish. I’ve been called crazy, told that I overreact, that I’m hypersensitive, overemotional, and overthinking the entire experience. I suppose these are all accurate descriptions; that is if you do not understand grief, depression, and their correlation to each other. Many people do not, and that’s why those of us suffering make the conscious decision NOT to discuss our internal conflicts out loud. We refrain from placing our burden on anyone else, thinking we are protecting them from feeling the same pain when in actuality, we are causing ourselves more harm. For these reasons, we are seeing and hearing more heartbreaking stories involving self-deprecating decisions, such as increased alcohol/drug abuse, self-harming behaviors, and, of course, suicide.
So, how do we as leaders work through the grief to continue doing the work we do effectively? Let me share what has been helping me move forward.
1. Accept your role as the caregiver. I watched my mom care for my grandmother, and she made it look so easy. I realize now that she only allowed me to see the good parts. It was only within her last year or so that she shared how much she related to the struggle I was challenged with and that she appreciated all that I had sacrificed to care for her. I am grateful for the opportunity to care for my mom, and I can only hope that my children watched and received the same lessons I learned from my mother through all of this.
2. Do what you can, when you can. Make a list. Take care of the things you can control, and don’t ponder too long on the things you can’t. I was reminded of this over and over again, and actually learning to do this (again) took some time. Once I could chunk my responsibilities into shorter, reasonable, obtainable personal and/or daily professional goals (think SMART goals for everyday living), I felt more in control of myself. But believe me, it wasn’t and still isn’t always easy. Try to use each day as another opportunity to get it right.
3. Ask for and accept help. This was incredibly tough for me. My thinking was always, “My parents, my responsibilities”. Asking for and accepting help from anyone, even my brothers, made me feel guilty and inadequate. When I finally accepted the help, I decided to take a short vacation away from home, and this was when I finally realized just how important, accepting help benefited me, my brothers, and my parents. It gets easier the more you practice accepting it until finally, you will ask for it with no shame or guilt. Make this an intentional practice.
4. Take care of yourself. Through all this, do whatever is necessary to take care of yourself. I had to work very hard everyday, to adjust my mindset in order to see my situation differently. As my mom’s health declined, so did my ability to cope. I began with meditation and long walks. Getting a lot of fresh air and exercise became my primary release. I took time to be by myself, time to cry, and time to yell. Take the time to reset, refocus, and recharge. Recite positive affirmations. Read the bible. Go out of town or a stay-cation in town, go to a friend’s house, and what I found to be most important in this, is disconnect! Disconnect your phone, your computer, and your mind from all caregiving responsibilities. Disconnecting is vital. This will allow you to practice mindfulness wherever you are in order to regain balance in your life. You will not regret it, and if you are like me, you will not only adopt all of this as an ongoing self-care practice; you will do it unapologetically.
5. Seek out professional support. Because I had gotten to a point where managing my feelings was too much to bear by myself, I made the decision to seek out professional help. I obtained a therapist, but there are also support groups that allow you to connect with others experiencing the same caregiving challenges. Take advantage of the available help. It will help you learn better-coping strategies and clear your mind of self-deprecating thoughts. And remember, it really is okay not to be okay.
Learning to Lead through the Grief
What we need to understand as leaders is that, first of all, we are not in this struggle alone. While you never know when or what people are dealing with, we should remember that all of us, at some time or another, deal with something that takes us beyond our ability to cope. That does not make us weak; it makes us human. Your grief is your grief. Show yourself some grace. Be kind to yourself and allow yourself to feel your feelings authentically.
Second, having compassion and sympathy for others is great, but this experience with my mom helped me understand that you really do not have a genuine appreciation of this type of grief unless you have dealt with it. To this, I suggest trying, with true intention, to be more empathetic as others work to navigate their way through their grief. Share some lessons you’ve learned. Let people know they are not alone. Be transparent about your experience, but please, don’t force your way of coping on others. It’s theirs for a reason. Many times, all that is required is a listening ear. Don’t assume caregivers are always looking for a solution. Most of the time, we wish to break down into tears and be told, “you got this”, “I’m proud of you”, or even better, “I appreciate all you are doing.”
Finally, allowing yourself the grace to feel what you feel during your weakest moments does not make you less of a leader. In fact, it adds to your capacity to connect and develop relationships with others as well as become a better advocate and ally for others who may be dealing with grief and depression.
Learning to lead through grief is not an easy task by any means, but it is not an impossible one either. It’s a shift in mindset and perspective. So, continue to press on with all the support and encouragement you need, deserve, and desire. Know that I’m proud of you and appreciate you. You got this!
Dr. Kelly Bullock Daugherty is the Founder and Chief Education Officer for Transitions Educational Coaching & Consulting Services. Transitions specializes in leadership and instructional coaching, educational training, and customized program/curriculum development for teachers who work to educate and inspire K12 students. With over 20 years of experience in teaching and leadership, Dr. Kelly is led by her vision to transform teachers' mindset, empower teachers with new knowledge, and increase teacher efficacy to provide meaningful expectations that increase effectiveness and promote excellence in education across the country.