Grief can bring thoughts and feelings we'd rather not have.
You might replay your companion's final moments, wonder whether you made the right decision, feel angry that life has carried on without them, or find yourself overwhelmed by sadness at the most unexpected times.
Sometimes, it's not only the grief itself that's exhausting. It's the effort we put into trying to make it stop.
We tell ourselves not to think about what happened. We try to push away the guilt, distract ourselves from the sadness, or convince ourselves we should be doing better by now.
Wanting relief is completely understandable. But when we spend a lot of energy trying to control every thought and feeling, that struggle can become another source of distress.
What if there were another way to respond?
You don't have to get rid of every difficult thought
When we experience emotional pain, our instinct may be to escape it. We want the upsetting thoughts to stop, the guilt to ease, and the sadness to lift.
And sometimes, we genuinely need a break from the intensity of grief.
But there's a difference between giving ourselves a much-needed pause and believing we must eliminate every difficult thought or feeling before we can carry on with our day.
Trying to suppress or avoid unwanted inner experiences can sometimes make us more entangled in them. In psychological approaches such as Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), learning to make room for difficult thoughts and feelings, rather than constantly fighting them, is an important part of developing psychological flexibility.
Acceptance doesn't mean liking what happened, giving up, or agreeing with every thought that enters your mind. It means allowing an experience to be present without making its disappearance a requirement for moving forward.
You might notice a thought such as, I should have known something was wrong.
Instead of arguing with it or trying to force it away, you could acknowledge it: I'm having the thought that I should have known.
That small shift creates some distance between you and the thought. It reminds you that having a thought doesn't automatically make it true.
You don't have to resolve it in that moment.
Let feelings come in waves
When grief is fresh, emotions can feel relentless. You might cry in the morning, feel relatively steady for a while, and then find yourself overwhelmed again when you see their favourite resting spot or reach for a leash that is no longer needed.
It can feel as though the sadness never really leaves.
Yet grief often fluctuates. There may be moments of intense pain alongside moments of calm, connection, laughter, or even relief. The waves can be particularly large and frequent early in grief, and reminders of the loss can bring them back at different times.
You don't need to force a wave to end. When it feels manageable, you might try noticing what is happening in your body, breathing naturally, and allowing the feeling to be there without judging it.
You can remind yourself: This is sadness. This is a difficult moment. I don't have to solve everything right now.
You may find that the intensity shifts. Or it may take longer than you hoped. Either way, you haven't failed.
You also don't need to remain immersed in the feeling to prove that your love was real. Taking a break from grief is not a betrayal of the bond you shared.
What about the idea that an emotion only lasts 90 seconds?
You may have heard the popular claim that an emotion lasts only 90 seconds and that anything beyond that is the result of our thoughts.
I'd be cautious about treating that as a scientific fact. There isn't good evidence for a universal 90-second limit on emotions. Research on emotional experiences suggests that their duration varies, and that factors such as the significance of an event and repetitive thinking can influence how long they last.
Grief is particularly complex. An emotion may ease and return, linger in the background, or intensify when a memory or reminder brings the loss into focus.
The useful takeaway isn't that you should be able to feel better within 90 seconds. It's that you can learn to meet an emotional wave without automatically fighting it or assuming it will feel exactly this way forever.
Give a name to what you're feeling
Sometimes, emotions become more difficult to navigate when they remain a vague, overwhelming knot inside us.
You might pause and ask yourself: What am I feeling right now?
Is it sadness? Guilt? Anger? Loneliness? Fear? Regret? Relief mixed with sorrow?
Perhaps several feelings are present at once.
Naming an emotion won't necessarily make it disappear, but it can help you recognize and understand what you're experiencing rather than feeling completely swept up in it.
Research by psychologist Matthew Lieberman and colleagues has explored a process known as affect labelling: putting feelings into words. In a 2007 study, researchers found that labelling emotional experiences was associated with reduced activity in brain regions involved in processing emotional responses. Further research has explored its potential role in regulating distress.
This doesn't mean that naming a feeling is a cure for grief. It simply offers one accessible way to begin responding to an emotion with awareness rather than automatically reacting to it.
You might say to yourself:
I'm feeling guilty because I keep wondering whether I made the right decision.
Or:
I'm feeling lonely because I miss the quiet companionship we shared.
Notice how this gives you a starting point. You can acknowledge the feeling without judging yourself for having it.
When a thought needs a closer look
Allowing thoughts to come and go doesn't mean you should never question them.
Some thoughts are painful interpretations rather than established facts. Grief, especially after euthanasia or a difficult quality-of-life decision, can leave us revisiting the past with an intensity that makes it hard to see the whole picture.
You might think:
I failed them.
I should have done more.
I made the decision too soon.
Rather than trying to force yourself to think positively, gently examine the thought when you feel ready.
You could ask:
What do I know, and what am I assuming?
Am I judging a past decision using information I only have now?
What was I trying to protect or provide for my companion at the time?
If someone I cared about were facing the same circumstances, would I judge them as harshly?
This is one way of using cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) principles to examine unhelpful thinking patterns and develop a more balanced perspective.
The aim isn't to convince yourself that everything was perfect or that you have no reason to feel sad. It's to make room for the full context of what happened, including the uncertainty, limitations, and love that may have shaped your decisions.
And if you aren't ready to examine a thought yet, that's okay, too. Sometimes acknowledging that it hurts is enough for now.
When you need a break from your thoughts
There may be times when your thoughts feel relentless, or your emotions become so intense that you struggle to focus on anything else.
In those moments, allowing your feelings doesn't have to mean sitting still and experiencing every second of their intensity.
You can gently redirect your attention.
Try engaging your senses. Notice the warmth of a mug in your hands, the texture of a blanket, the sounds around you, or the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Choose something that helps you reconnect with the present moment.
Give your attention a task. You might tend to a plant, prepare a meal, work on a small project, draw, or step outside for a short walk. You don't have to feel motivated first. Sometimes, a manageable activity can give your mind a little breathing room.
Try a guided meditation. A gentle grounding or mindfulness practice may help you notice thoughts and feelings without becoming as caught up in them. If focusing inward feels overwhelming, choose a practice that directs your attention toward your surroundings instead.
Reach for connection. You don't have to navigate difficult thoughts alone. Talking with someone who can listen without rushing you toward reassurance or solutions may help you feel less isolated. A grief counsellor can also help you explore recurring guilt, distressing thoughts, and emotions that feel difficult to manage.
These strategies aren't ways of denying your grief. They're ways of caring for yourself while you're carrying it.
You don't have to do all of this at once
When a loss is fresh, even simple things can feel like a lot. You may not have the energy to challenge a thought, name an emotion, meditate, or try something new.
Start where you are.
Perhaps today, all you can do is notice that you're having a difficult moment and stop telling yourself that you shouldn't be feeling this way.
Perhaps tomorrow, you might find a little space to examine a recurring thought or take a short walk.
There is no requirement to turn grief into a self-improvement project. These are possibilities to draw on when they feel helpful, not tasks you need to complete to grieve correctly.
If your thoughts feel frightening or persistently overwhelming, or your emotions are making it difficult to manage daily life, seeking professional support can help you find approaches suited to your circumstances.
You can make room for grief without letting every thought dictate how you see yourself. You can acknowledge painful feelings without judging yourself for having them. And you can take a break when you need one without loving your companion any less.
You don't have to fight yourself on top of everything else.
Sometimes, the gentlest place to begin is simply allowing yourself to be where you are.
At Haven Heights Counselling, I offer virtual pet-loss grief counselling for those navigating anticipatory grief, difficult quality-of-life decisions, euthanasia, and the loss of a beloved companion animal. You don't have to navigate the weight of this loss alone.
