The Grief Prism: Seeing My Healing in Color
Seven years after my sister’s sudden death, I've created a tool to visualize my grief journey—and discovered unexpected signs of resilience and growth.
The Need to See My Healing
When I suddenly lost my sister seven years ago, every emotion felt outsized, unfamiliar, and destined to last forever. If you’ve ever been on a grief journey, you know it can often feel chaotic, nonlinear, and overwhelming. There’s no timeline, no roadmap to help us understand our progress and growth.
The Grief Kaleidoscope: My First Attempt at Visualization
Last month was the 7th anniversary of Beth’s passing, and as I tried to fall asleep one night with my jumbled emotions and memories, I imagined my grief as a kaleidoscope— its elements constantly shifting. Since many aspects of my grief are far less raw than they were when I first learned the news of Beth’s death, my mind kept turning to that kaleidoscope idea.
I pictured bright, vivid colors to represent the complexity of my emotions — some of them big swaths of unchanging color, others mere slivers, and still others appearing and disappearing, depending on the day.
Recently, I found myself longing for a visual to share with others — one that helped to describe the levels of grief dynamics I feel on any given day.
The idea was inspired by an experience I had in 2016, when I sought treatment for severe anxiety and depression. I’d been in a PHP (partial hospitalization program), in which I spent my days in a small group setting. Every morning and every afternoon, we’d begin and end our day by sharing a mood rating with our peers. If I was having a rough, lousy start to the day, I might declare “I’m at a 19 out of 100.” If my mood improved by the end of the day, I might announce “I’m at a 70 out of 100.” The numbers themselves were relative to each individual and far less important than the act of stopping and assessing our moods.
The exercise instilled in me the importance of looking inside and being mindful of how I’m feeling. Until then, I rarely stopped to think about such things, since my days were filled with responding and reacting to others. And so, when I learned how to slow down and take inventory of my emotions, my moods, my outlook, and my overall well-being, I was able to recognize — and signal to others — how I was doing.
And so, sitting in the dark recently, feeling overwhelmed by the grief of the anniversary of my sister’s death, I tried to brainstorm a list of some of the emotions I’ve felt over the past seven years. I figured if I could identify them, I might be able to come up with a “score” of sorts about how I was feeling, rather than just saying “I’m sad,” “I’m overwhelmed,” or “It’s the anniversary of my sister’s passing.” While I know I don’t owe anyone a formal analysis of my emotional state, I nevertheless longed for a framework for myself.
And so, as I started brainstorming, making a mental list of all my feelings and states-of-mind. In doing so, I quickly realized how some had changed significantly through the years, like:
Confusion
Anger
Longing
Dissociation
Flatness
Flashbacks
Daily triggers
Attempts to focus on positive memories
Irritability
Difficulty sleeping
Self-blame
Helplessness
The need to process my grief through writing
Pain when I see an image of my sister
An urge to speak about her
The search for acceptance and peace
The Evolution to a Grief Prism
I wanted a way to visualize my emotional shifts over time, but how to do this? Create an emotional kaleidoscope of sorts? Okay. But do I put two snapshots of kaleidoscopes over each other to show how the emotions shift? Nah. Too clunky. I’m a word nerd, not a designer.
Still, I hoped for a visual representation to show how some of my emotions have softened, while others — like acceptance and courage — have grown.
My first attempt at mapping these changes was just okay…but it needed significant help. I’d created a simple pie chart — a good start — but it only showed a static snapshot.
What I needed was a graphic that told a story.
Eric’s Insight: A Game-Changing Perspective
I told Eric about what I was trying to accomplish. As a designer and fellow grief traveler, he suggested I use an area chart, and that’s when everything came together.
This approach helped me see the progression of my emotions more clearly, and to recognize the personal growth and resilience within the data.
My Grief Prism
Here’s a look at my first attempt at a Grief Prism:
As you can see, some of my big emotions have tapered down over time — like shock, self-blame, overwhelm, numbness, irritability, helplessness, depression, anguish, and anger.
Others have stayed relatively stable — like regret, longing, guilt, emptiness, and confusion.
Still others have grown — like a sense of acceptance, the courage to speak about what happened, and the ability to focus on positive memories.
This chart is just a start, and I’ll definitely ask Eric to help me refine it. But for now, it’s been a helpful tool to see how my grief journey hasn’t been static these past seven years. I can see real growth, real progress, real healing in these vibrant colors.
Soon, An Invitation to the Community
I hope to encourage others to map their own grief journeys, too. In the coming days, I plan to introduce a Google Form for submissions. Why? Because I believe in the power of shared stories to help us all see our grief in a new light. And, if we have a graphic to point to when the words don’t come easily, that feels like a win.
A New Way to Understand Healing
Grief will always be part of me, but I can now more clearly see that its shape and intensity have evolved over time. If ever I needed to visualize hope, this was it.
Visualizing my grief has brought clarity, validation, and better understanding of my growth. And, by inviting readers to explore their own grief prisms, I hope to build connections with those who know the struggle that is managing grief. We all have so much to learn from each other, and I hope this simple tool might help someone feel less alone on their path.
Your Turn
For now, please share what kinds of emotions you’ve felt on your own grief journey. What progress have you (or haven’t you) made as you carry grief? What’s surprised you about your experience with grief? What do you wish you’d known before you stepped (or fell into) the path of grief?
As always, thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts. I read every comment, and I appreciate you being here.
Christine I’m just now reading through all of your Substack including this entry and am overwhelmed by your vulnerability and authenticity in your sharing as well as your determination to make sense of your grief. I share all of this with you as the mother who lost her 18 year old son suddenly to suicide 2.5 years ago. I think I’m ready to start sharing my own process more publicly and appreciate the inspiration you’ve provided. It’s also liberating as a fellow perfectionist to see you be completely candid that you write to make sense of your grief. I could feel my whole body relaxing as I read that. Grief and trauma are perhaps two of the most complex experiences we will ever go through. Thank you for modeling the catharsis and healing that writing provides.
This is powerful and fascinating. What a unique idea to map out the process of grief over time. Of course, we're all familiar with the old theory surrounding the grieving journey, which, in my opinion, is an OK starting point but rather limited.
I particularly like how many different aspects of the grieving journey that you were able to distinguish. There are some that I was completely surprised to experience, for example, flashbacks and dissociation. Reading this made me realise just how far I've come!