Where would we be without Novocain? Stick with me on this. Can you imagine getting a cavity filled—or worse, a root canal—without it? My dentist wrote “TLC” on my chart because I always need more, both in quantity and time for it to be effective, than the average person, and neither of us enjoys it when she starts a procedure before everything has kicked in. Sure, extra Novocain means an extra hour or two of difficult eating and drinking, along with that strange numb sensation in the face from jaw to eye, but every single time, it’s been worth it.

And then, somewhere around four to six hours after the procedure, the pain comes. Sometimes it is a gradual sensation, and sometimes it hits unpredictably and with surprising force. Rude, right? Friends, that is the numbness fade. When the Novocain dissipates, the pain you feel isn’t new pain. It was there the whole time, but masked. The end of the Novocain removed the mask and revealed the pain. In fact, by that point, you are very likely feeling less pain—difficult as that is to believe—than you would have otherwise had without the numbness.

God implanted in us a natural numbness to carry us through the early weeks of grief. It allows us to function and complete those initial necessary tasks. That numbness permits grievers to experience the reality of the death in small, endurable doses. Unfortunately, it cannot last forever. The numbness must fade because we cannot live a full life without fully experiencing emotions.

The numbness fade is not a regression in grief; it is not an indicator that you somehow went backward in your progress. Instead, it is a natural step in the process and a signal that your brain is beginning to feel safe again, ready for the next round of experiencing this new reality. It seems counterintuitive, but to feel the whole weight of your grief is another step forward, another step toward returning to active living in the present and dreaming about the future.

Action Challenge

Many people use numbing distractions throughout their initial grief experiences, some healthy and others decidedly not healthy. Distraction is okay and often needed, but avoidance is not. Avoidance is risky because it can lead to becoming entrenched in grief. Consider your coping tools—whether it’s reading, calling a friend, watching a favorite movie, going for a walk, sleeping, or hydrating—and evaluate each one’s role. Do they temporarily distract you from your grief, or do they encourage avoidance? If most of your coping tools lend themselves to avoidance, consider switching out those tools for healthier ones. If you are unsure if some tools might need to be changed, remember the Novocain analogy. Novocain allows a short-term endurance of a necessary, unpleasant event, but if that numbness lasted forever, we would find it intrusive and disruptive. If your tools do not include an eventual return to the present uncomfortable reality, they will not provide a long-term benefit. If you need to, write a commitment to yourself to make changes and share it with someone who can lovingly hold you accountable.

Kate J. Meyer

Kate J. Meyer, MDiv, LPC, is an ordained minister and licensed professional counselor who has worked in both private practice and hospice care. She is passionate about bringing grief into the light so that all grievers know how to move forward in a healthy, life-giving manner. Kate is the author of Faith Doesn’t Erase Grief, Navigating the Waves of Grief, and The Red Couch and The Yellow Dress, two novels about past mistakes and a challenge to overcome them. She is a dog mom living with her husband in Western Michigan.

Cover of Faith Doesn't Erase Grief: Embracing the Experience and Finding Hope, by Kate J. Meyer, published by Lake Drive Books
Navigating the Waves of Grief
Secret Link