The Science of Anticipatory Grief
Why the Future Hurts: Understanding Anticipatory Grief & Why Your Heart Hurts Before the Loss.
Grief That Arrives Early
There is a kind of grief we don’t talk about enough, and it’s an interesting experience for me at the moment, as I write My Last Walk With You.
Every time I open my document I re-read what I wrote last time to remind myself where I am, and find myself being flooded with thoughts and memories: of those I’ve lost, of the people missing from the lives of my friends, and also of anticipating loss as time goes on.
There’s what I can only describe as the heavy weight of emptiness, and the tears that well up seem to be not only for the loss in the future but for every loss that has affected me – people, time, places, identities, the things held in memory, mind and body, that make up who I am now.
Anticipatory grief is like time travel – it’s the future you already feeling it, like a grief starter kit: the dread, the imagining, the empty. But what strikes me is the fear when you realise something you love will not always be here.
It makes perfect sense. It’s not happened yet but to the body it’s familiar: it knows that something is changing, you feel it in heart and gut, and your mind replays a future in preparation, as though it will make it easier if you know what to expect.
And it’s one of the most human experiences we have, even though so many people walk through it alone.#
What Does Anticipatory Grief Feel Like?
Anticipatory grief isn’t dramatic, it’s the mind and the nervous system saying:
I recognise a future absence, and I’m trying to prepare you.
Psychologically, anticipatory grief is a mix of:
anxiety of the unknown future, including now knowing how you’ll react
pre-emptive sadness, because you know someone or something will be missing or left behind
fear of change that you don’t want
the urge to hold on more tightly to what you do have
the guilt of worrying “too soon”
anger at the unfairness of it all
mixed emotions if you feeling like you’re missing out on life, or
not living in the precious current moment because you’re always in the future.
Biologically, it’s:
cortisol rising in small, steady waves as you remember what’s already been lost and what will be lost
the brain rehearsing the threat in the hope that it makes it easier to cope with
the heart trying to regulate expected pain to help keep you calm and
your personal attachment system scanning for potential loss.
Your brain is trying to protect you, your body is trying to keep you steady.
Both are normal human reactions, and both can be overwhelming and exhausting.
Why the Body Reacts Before the Mind Understands
You may wonder why, if nothing has happened yet, you can sometimes feel so emotional: why does it feel like you’re already going through it. This is because your nervous system is relational: you aren’t living in isolation but have relationships with people, times, events, places, even things – and because there are memories, emotions, meanings, and identity tied up in all of it. And when someone, or something, has shaped your routines, your rhythms, your daily rituals, the body scans for change before the mind can names it.
This is especially true if you have trauma stored in your body showing up as ADHD, attachment sensitivity, a history of unpredictable change, or a strong connection to order, ritual or companionship. Your body responds to shifts in connection long before you consciously register them.
It’s how we’re wired: for being part of something, for being in relationships with others. We’re social creatures – we need others, and we need to feel belonging to feel truly safe.
Why Anticipatory Grief Hurts So Much
Because it’s two griefs, not one: grieving what you have now, knowing it will change, and grieving the imagined or hoped-for future and ‘self’ that you fear losing. We are wired to struggle with endings before they happen because the brain hates uncertainty more than it hates pain.
So it tries to predict, protect, pre-feel, pre-brace - trying to ‘get ahead’ of loss, even if nothing is certain.
🌼 A Note From My Writing Desk: Lyla & The Dog Grief Journal
I’m living this lesson in real time with the journal.
Lyla hasn’t died, but she’s getting older, and it reminds me that I am too. 12 years and counting has gone so fast. And since turning 50, I’ve been seeing the older generation go, and be replaced by people closer to my age. This is also a grief for some – that unlived life that passed in a flash.
And that’s the really interesting thing about grief for me – nothing is grieved alone. When one loss is felt it brings up memories of multiple losses that we never really processed or healed from. And I think this is why it hurts so much: it brings up the whole weight of our griefs, even though we may not know it.
When I first understood this – that memories and emotions don’t come alone – it really helped me put things into perspective. Not that this loss was ‘less’, or that I was overreacting or too sensitive, but it explained why the weight was so heavy, and in a strange way, lightened it, just a touch – just enough for me to be able to bear it.
So as I spend December writing My Last Walk With You, I know it’ll bring up the sadness of loosing Lyla, but that so many other losses will pop up. This is where ‘Be gentle with yourself’ will be most useful.
I’ll be aware that I’m processing a lot of things and that will allow me to take breaks, cry, remember, even shout ‘it’s not fair’ if that’s what I feel like doing. This month, as I continue writing the dog grief journal, which is truly a journal about love, memory and attachment, I’ll be sharing what I’m learning about anticipatory grief and the nervous system.
If you’re walking through your own version of this tenderness, you’re not alone.
Your body is simply protecting what it loves. Grief isn’t one and done: it’s a lifelong human experience.
So if you’re going through this right now, you know why it’s important, and valid, to go softly. Be gentle with yourself.
Below are some journaling prompts to get those thoughts, emotions, words out: you’ll feel better.
Yolanda X
Journaling Prompts for You
Where in my life am I sensing change before it arrives?
What part of me is afraid, and what part of me is preparing?
How does my body respond to the idea of loss, even when nothing has happened yet?