What We Think About Grieving: A Reflection from TMH.id

What We Think About Grieving: A Reflection from TMH.id

Grief is not always visible.
It does not always arrive loudly.

Sometimes, it stays quietly—
in memories, in the body, and in the heart.

At Talk Mental Health Indonesia, the stories we share are not only educational. They are lived. Behind every post, there are real experiences—moments where we, too, have felt fragile, lost, and unsure of how to move forward.

We have lost people we deeply love.
We have lost versions of ourselves we once recognized.
We have lost a sense of safety that used to feel certain.

And this is how we have come to understand grief.

Before it became something we talk about, grief was something we lived through.

Each of us carries a different story.
Different forms of loss.
Different ways of breaking, holding on, and slowly rebuilding.

Grief is often associated with death, but it can also come from many other kinds of loss—such as losing a relationship, a sense of safety, a dream, a part of ourselves, or a life we thought we would have. UNICEF also reminds us that grief can affect not only our emotions, but also our minds and bodies, and that each person’s response can look very different.

That is why there is no single definition that can fully capture grief.
No one timeline. No one “correct” response.
Sometimes grief feels loud. Sometimes it feels numb. Sometimes it shows up as sadness, anger, confusion, guilt, exhaustion, or a quiet emptiness that is hard to explain. UNICEF notes that these different emotional, psychological, physical, and social responses can all be part of grieving.

So instead of trying to explain grief only through theory, we want to share it through our own experiences—because sometimes the most honest way to understand grief is to listen to how it lives inside real people.

For Elisabeth Jatu, grief began long before her father passed away.

Since 2019, when her father fell ill and gradually lost his ability to move, speak, and live as he once did, the family had already begun grieving. For four years, they tried everything—medical treatments, different approaches—holding onto hope while witnessing a slow change.

When the day finally came, the feeling still shifted.

“For us, father is home. And home is father.”

On the morning he passed, Elisabeth had been there. But as she left for campus—unaware it would be his final moments—she received the call just minutes later.

The regret came quietly but deeply:
Why did I leave?
Why didn’t I stay longer?
Why did it never feel enough?

After his passing, the house changed.
It felt empty. Quiet. As if its warmth had left with him.

And yet, within that emptiness, something else emerged:
a commitment to continue living,
to carry his spirit forward,
and to take care of what he once held together.

“There are no tips or tricks for grief.
It is something each person must walk through in their own way.”

For Elgavasi, grief did not come in a single form—it came all at once.

In one period of life, they lost:

  • a beloved dog
  • a relationship that once felt like a support system
  • financial stability after being a victim of a Ponzi scheme
  • the presence of a sibling who moved away
  • and a sense of safety, as their family was also going through separation

“It felt like I had nowhere to go home to.”

The emotions were overwhelming—
anger, disappointment, confusion, shame, and deep exhaustion.

There were moments of wanting to end life. Moments of self-harm. Moments of not knowing what to do or where to turn.

The hardest part was not having a support system that could hold space.

“We were trying to save each other, but we were both drowning.”

And yet, slowly, small things began to help:
journaling, scrapbooking, small acts of productivity.

A quiet realization emerged—
that there was still something worth holding onto: dreams, relationships, and possibilities.

“Befriend your dark side.
From there, you slowly learn that everyone deserves to heal.”

For Xenixia Pratita, grief came in the form of losing herself.

During her postgraduate studies in theology, she faced immense pressure—an environment that expected “perfection,” combined with a toxic academic dynamic that broke her sense of self.

At the peak of writing her thesis, she no longer recognized who she was.

“I didn’t know what I was fighting for anymore.
I didn’t even know who I was.”

The emotions were layered:
anxiety, helplessness, anger, disappointment, and deep self-blame.

Her lowest point came when she began planning to end her life.

But something shifted.

While attending a funeral of a junior who had died by suicide, she witnessed the grief of a mother—raw, uncontrollable, heartbreaking.

In that moment, she thought of her own mother.

And something within her changed.

“I realized… maybe my life still matters.”

From there, she learned:

Grief does not need to be rushed.
It does not need to be fixed immediately.

“There is no such thing as ‘small grief.’
You don’t have to rush being strong.”

For Callista Khansa, grief was not about losing someone—but losing herself.

There was a phase where she felt misunderstood, not enough, and slowly began to question her own worth.

The emotions were confusing—sadness, emptiness, anger, exhaustion—sometimes without clear reasons.

The hardest moment was when she began believing the negative things others said about her.

“I started to think maybe I was the problem.
Maybe I wasn’t enough.”

But over time, something shifted.

She began to:

  • sit with her thoughts
  • understand her emotions
  • stop depending on external validation
  • and accept that her feelings were valid

“You don’t have to look strong all the time.
What you feel is not wrong.”

For Hanik Prima, grief was intertwined with regret.

She lost her father in December 2021 after years of illness.

During his final months, she had just started a full-time job—a decision that felt necessary at the time, but later carried deep regret.

“I felt like I left him when he needed me the most.”

The loss came quickly—only weeks after she started working.

What stayed was the feeling of “not enough time.”
Not enough presence.
Not enough moments shared.

Sometimes, grief comes in simple, unexpected ways:
seeing a stranger who reminds you of your father,
remembering small, ordinary moments that now feel irreplaceable.

Over time, she learned something important:
to stop blaming her past self.

“At that time, I was also trying to survive in my own way.”

Slowly, she learned not to keep blaming herself for the past. And in that process, her mother’s support became one of the deepest sources of strength that helped her keep going.

Healing, for her, is not about forgetting.
It is about learning to live with memory—without losing yourself.

Understanding Grief Through Real Stories | TMH.id

Grief does not follow a schedule.
It rarely moves in a straight line, and it does not disappear just because time has passed.

Some days may feel lighter.
Other days, the sadness can return through something small—a memory, a sound, a familiar place, or a quiet moment you did not prepare for.

There is no right or wrong way to grieve.
Some people cry. Some go quiet. Some keep going while carrying something heavy inside.
Sadness, anger, numbness, guilt, confusion, even relief—these can all be part of grief.

There is also no deadline to feel okay.
If today you are still sad, it does not make you weak.
If you still cry, it does not mean you are failing to move on.
It may simply mean that what you lost mattered, and that you once loved deeply.

So take it slowly.
Be gentle with yourself.
You do not need to rush healing or pretend to be strong all the time.

You are not alone.
And your process is already enough.

Sometimes, what we feel is too heavy to carry alone.
And not everything needs to be spoken.

Some feelings just need a place to land—
to be written, to be released.

This is why we created Grief Box.

A small space to hold stories that have not yet been shared.

Because grief is not only about losing someone.
It can also come from:

  • losing direction
  • dreams that slowly fade
  • relationships that change
  • or losing yourself

And all of it is valid.

Understanding Grief Through Real Stories | TMH.id

If you need a place to express what you have been holding,
you can find the Grief Box in several youth-friendly spaces across Yogyakarta:

  • Palka Art n Craft
  • GitGud Board Game & Cafe
  • Warung Pelan-Pelan
  • Kaimana Coffee
  • Mojok Book Store

Write. Release.
Slowly—you do not have to carry everything on your own. 🤍

If you feel like you need a small space to pause, reflect, and let something out,
we invite you to join this collective invitation to grieve more gently.

You do not need to have the “right words.”
You do not need to explain everything.
Sometimes, starting with one sentence is enough.

If you would like to learn more about grief, why it can take many forms, and the intention behind the Grief Box, you can more about Grief Box

And this is only one part of a larger journey we are beginning.

This April, TMH.id will also begin GROW: From Grief to Grounding — a collective space to process loss slowly, gently, and without pressure. Through art, body-based practices, and nature, we want to create a space where we can be present with grief and slowly learn how to grow hope again—in our own way, and in our own time.

It will take place as a 6-week support group, and we will be sharing more very soon.
Stay tuned.

Come by, take your time, and leave a piece of what feels heavy—
slowly, together. 🤍

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