Grief Support

Most public conversations about assisted dying focus on the decision itself—autonomy, consent, timing, and relief from suffering. Far less attention is given to what happens afterward, particularly for the people left behind.

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As a result, many bereaved family members and loved ones find themselves without adequate support. The resources they are offered often assume acceptance, agreement, or emotional resolution. When grief does not follow that expected path, people are subtly—or explicitly—made to feel that something is wrong with them.

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There isn’t.

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Grief after assisted dying is often more complex than people are prepared for, not because of a failure to cope, but because the death itself carries layers that are rarely acknowledged or discussed.

 

Complicated Death Creates Complicated Grief

 

In trauma- and grief-informed practice, we understand that the nature of a death shapes the grief that follows. Deaths involving choice, timing, medical authority, or ethical tension frequently lead to what clinicians describe as complicatedor traumatic grief—not as a diagnosis, but as a recognition of increased emotional load.

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Assisted dying can involve all of these factors at once.

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Loved ones may be grieving the person while also grappling with shock, moral conflict, unanswered questions, or a rupture in trust toward systems meant to protect life. These experiences do not cancel each other out. They accumulate.

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And yet, much of the available support focuses on pre-death decision-making rather than post-death realit—leaving many people without language, validation, or space for what they are actually experiencing.

 

When the Resources Miss the Reality

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Many family members are offered resources either shortly before a loved one’s assisted death, or immediately afterward—particularly if they were not notified in advance. These resources are often presented as standard bereavement support, but they are typically designed from a very specific perspective: that of a patient whose death was reasonably foreseeable due to terminal illness.

 

What is rarely acknowledged is that eligibility for assisted dying includes a much broader range of conditions. Many deaths now occur outside the context of terminal illness, and some involve profound psychological suffering, social vulnerability, or long-standing mental health challenges.

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When families in these situations are directed to materials or groups that assume a terminal trajectory, shared understanding, or emotional preparedness, the experience can feel deeply disorienting. The language of “acceptance,” “peace,” or “honouring the decision” may not reflect their lived reality at all.

Rather than offering support, these resources can unintentionally silence grief—especially when there is shock, moral conflict, or a sense that the death unfolded without adequate protection or time to process. This is not because families are resistant to healing, but because the framework being offered does not account for the full complexity of the death.

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Grief support should adapt to the reality of the loss—not ask grieving people to adapt themselves to a narrative that doesn’t fit.

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What Many People Don’t Talk About

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In trauma-informed grief work, certain experiences appear again and again among people affected by assisted dying, regardless of the circumstances leading up to the death.

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These include a persistent sense of shock or unreality, even when death was discussed in advance. Guilt that resists logic or reassurance. Anger toward systems, professionals, language, or processes that felt rushed, opaque, or irreversible. Relief that the crisis has ended, followed closely by shame for feeling it. Isolation when grief does not align with dominant narratives of peace or closure. Repetitive questioning that is less about answers and more about stabilizing meaning. A lasting disruption to one’s sense of safety or trust.

These responses are not signs of dysfunction. They are consistent with grief following deaths that involve moral complexity, power imbalance, or perceived loss of protection.

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Many people recognize their grief as resembling suicide loss grief—not because the situations are identical, but because the emotional aftermath often is: intense, isolating, looping, and difficult to speak about without being misunderstood.

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Why Acceptance Is Not the Goal

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One of the most harmful myths surrounding grief after assisted dying is the expectation of acceptance.

In trauma-informed practice, the goal is not acceptance. The goal is integration—allowing the full reality of the loss to exist without minimizing, reframing, or rushing emotional resolution.

Some people may eventually arrive at acceptance.
 

Others may not.

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Healing does not depend on agreeing with the death. It depends on having space to tell the truth about how it affected you.

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Grief is not a position statement. It is a human response to loss.

 

Disenfranchised Grief and the Loneliness That Follows

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Many people grieving after assisted dying feel they don’t quite belong anywhere. Traditional bereavement spaces may not address the ethical or emotional complexity involved. Assisted-dying-focused spaces may prioritize affirmation over exploration.

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This leaves many people carrying what grief professionals call disenfranchised grief—grief that is real, profound, and legitimate, but not fully recognized or supported by society.

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When grief has nowhere to land, it does not resolve. It becomes quieter, heavier, and more isolating.

Naming this is not about blame. It is about making space.

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If You’re Looking for a Place to Land

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If you are grieving after assisted dying and find that your experience does not fit easily into existing conversations or supports, this site offers a starting point.

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Alongside curated resources, there is an option to share your experience through a private story-submission form. Stories can be shared anonymously or with attribution, and you choose whether your story is for private review or potential public sharing. There is no expectation to participate in any particular way.

For some, sharing a story is about being heard.

For others, it is simply about putting words somewhere safe.

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You do not need to know yet what your experience means, how you feel about it, or whether you want to take part beyond this moment. Moving slowly and choosing what feels manageable is appropriate after complicated loss.

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If and when you’re ready, that space is available.