My father died last week.
I’m now immersed in a new world that I was previously unaware of – or rather, a world that always existed alongside me but that I could blissfully ignore. Funeral directors, medical certificates, registrars, deadlines, regulations and costs. The business of death.
That is a distraction from the real business of death, of course. Loss and grief.
Since starting this blog, I have become very practiced at analysing my own feelings and thoughts. The psychologists call this “metacognition” and it’s now become second nature for me. Even through grief, there is a protected part of me – a curious scientist – that is observing and noting and processing what I am going through. That part of me also keeps trying to relate the experience of grief to the lessons I learned during limerence.
While it might not seem obvious how wild romantic infatuation and deep personal loss are connected, there are a surprising number of intersections. Even more useful, the differences between the two experiences help illustrate why limerence is distinct from other causes of psychological distress, and why the coping strategies should also be different.
With that preamble out of the way, I have to admit that my little inner scientist is presently rather dazed. Consequently, my thoughts about grief and limerence are a bit haphazard, but never mind, let’s just stumble through it.
1. An altered mental state
Both limerence and grief are altered mental states. In both cases, we have been confronted with an emotional assault so powerful that we cannot think straight. Everyday life is derailed. Thoughts become disorderly – sometimes racing, sometimes sluggish. Mood swings hit unexpectedly. One thought dominates all others.
Coping with that dramatic disruption to normality often involves running on autopilot – that strange mental fugue of going-through-the-motions while your internal world is in turmoil.
The obvious difference, of course, is that grief is all about loss, whereas limerence is also about excitement (at least in the early stages). The happiness of being with loved-ones before they died isn’t like the manic energy of limerence. The mental state of grief is not one of exhilaration.
Late-stage limerence has much more in common with grief – especially disenfranchised grief – because the loss of a romantic dream is a major factor in the pain of hopeless or unrequited limerence. Although I haven’t got there yet, I suspect that late-stage grief will feel more like unresolved limerence – not so sharp or present a pain, more like happy memories commingled with sadness.
2. Limerence flares up during grief
I have heard from several people who succumbed to limerence during a period of bereavement. This has not been my experience, fortunately, but I can understand how it happens. The agony of grief is scouring, and any strategy for mood repair that presents itself is seized upon.
Another impact of grief for me has been the added potency of life-affirming experiences. Hearing about the birth of my barber’s child had extra significance, as it seemed like a rebuke to death. Romantic songs had added poignancy. The joy of children playing in the park seemed more vivid.
The world is darker during grief. Who wouldn’t want to flee the shadow?
3. Intrusive thoughts
Another overlap is the presence of intrusive thoughts. Memories appear unbidden. It’s like your conscious mind is not in sync with your subconscious, which wants to serve you urgent thoughts for its own reasons, but which end up battering your peace of mind.
Again, the obvious difference between limerence and grief is that you are not being urged to seek reward so much as being assailed by loss. There is definitely a sense of trying to recover previous happiness in both cases, but it turns out our subconscious is not really built to deal with irreversible change. There’s a part of you that can’t really believe that some losses are permanent, and keeps trying to prompt you not to give up.
4. Physical symptoms
My heart aches all the time at the moment. It’s actually very similar to when I was wrestling with limerence, as it’s the cumulative effects of stress, lack of sleep, overarousal and burnout. That my father died of a heart attack adds a little dash of scary-spice.
The link between psychological and physical manifestations of pain is complex and interesting. Internal emotional turmoil causes similar embodied responses, regardless of the cause.
5. Coping strategies
The parallels between grief and limerence are clear, but there is a critical distinction. As with other mental health conditions that have features in common with limerence – such as OCD, bipolar disorder, insecure attachments – grief does not stem from desire for a reward, it stems from anxiety and distress.
Things get muddled when limerence transitions from exhilarating highs to compulsive lows, but the driving force that starts the whole process running is the desire to secure blissful union. That’s why I think limerence is better viewed as a behavioural addiction than an anxiety or mood disorder.
Coping with limerence is therefore mostly about recognising and countering the habits and behaviours that reinforce the addictive craving. That isn’t appropriate for grief. You don’t want to reprogram yourself out of the altered mental state by neutralising or reframing potent memories or experiences. It would only compound the loss.
Instead, the hope with grief is to navigate a path to the future where your happy memories are still bright, you remember the person you have lost with love and gratitude, but you can reconcile yourself to the sadness that will forever infuse the past.
I’ve not got there yet. It’s only a week from the loss, and a month from the first sense of impending disaster, but I can believe it’s possible, and I’m confident that purposeful living is the way I will manage it.
My rational brain tells me that this is the natural order of things and that time will lessen the pain.
But right now, I just really miss him.
Dear Dr.L
I for one appreciate your determination to keep up your Saturday posts so close to losing your Father. I hope you find whatever support and comfort you need at this very sad time. I recognise the stark truth when you say that a powerful experience of late stage limerence can cause the same level of grief as a family bereavement.
Both involve the loss of a loved one as far as our fragile hearts and minds are concerned. The death of a parent is the ultimate permanent inaccessibility of a loved one, while limerence can still torture us with their existence somewhere out there in the world. Take care of yourself and know the courage to acknowledge pain and recover is high humanity and your work here on LWL to help others is high humanity too. I send you my heartfelt condolences. Mike
I’m so sorry for what you’re going through now. Thanks for finding the time to write your blog, which I enjoy reading each week.
The three events I’ve experienced in life that have caused me the most pain and misery are, in no particular order:
1. Limerence
2. Loss of my career
3. Grief over someone who died suddenly at a young age from a medical condition (have suffered other bereavements, but all of people who were old and prepared for death)
All of them involved the ‘five stages of grief’ but recovering from bereavement I actually found was in the long term something positive that after the initial pain led to a great deal of healing creativity and starting new projects. I now remember who I lost and the time we had together fondly and as something precious that will be mine alone for the rest of my life that can never be taken from me.
As for the loss of my career and the times I’ve suffered with limerence, I remember those negatively and feel that the career was the wrong choice for me all along and that being limerent was a waste of my time. The potential of those LOs and that career were taken from me and I don’t particularly want the memories they left behind. I had to ‘age out’ of the grief rather than heal from it, and the new skills I learnt and projects I started were motivated by the necessity of having to do something rather than a genuine sense of inspiration.
Peace and healing to you.
The usual words seem clichéd so I’ll put it this way. If we were acquaintances in real life,
I’d take you out for a pint.
I’d go to his service.
If you needed a pallbearer, it would be an honor.
You’ve done so much for us, we’d we wish we could do more for you.
I’ve been reading for a while but never commented before.
I just wanted to say thank you and condolences.
Very sorry to hear of your loss. I’m pretty new hear so I dont know you as well sir as other commenters. But your post both about limerence and grief are helpful. My folks are healthy now but getting up in age and I get dreadful thoughts of the future and coping with the inevitable.
I didnt even know what limerence was until I found this community. I suffered it over a year before getting here, not knowing what was wrong with me. But finding your posts here finally gave me the information and courage to broach my condition with my wife in hopes we can overcome it together as husband and wife. There are no words that can thank you enough for this.
If you are any reflection of your father, the world and humanity is less of ourselves without him.
Oh Dr. L!
I’m so sorry.
This is the hardest time, things will become less painful as you know. But the thought of the pain you’re going through presently does break my heart.
A few years ago I unexpectedly lost my Mum and it seemed the pain would be an unwelcome bedfellow forever, but the pain has largely dulled, replaced with endearing memories and a clarity as to the value of the life lessons she taught me. I agree that the “subconscious is not really built to deal with irreversible change”, and I do personally entertain the hope of a reversing.
Thank you for correlating grief and limerence so eloquently, I experienced both simultaneously, they became intertwined, and the comprehensive scope of grieving was temporarily delayed.
Now limerence is over and the hardest part of grieving is too, and looking back, I am glad I took some time off work, got lots of sleep, and immersed myself in the volunteer work I love. Initially I also somehow managed to mention during any human or phone contact that my “mother has just passed away” and somehow the simple “oh I’m sorry”, even from strangers, was immensely comforting.
Grief and limerence are most certainly altered mental states and caution is needed when making major decisions etc when under the influence of either.
May this this acute phase of grief be attended by the love of those close to you, and know that you have our support and compassion and gratitude.
So sorry to hear Dr.L
I lost my mom to a heart attack, so I can relate.
Yes, I agree that grief from loosing a loved one and grief from Limerence is quite different.
But grief is grief and we must be gentle with ourselves during the process.
I can speak for myself and I bet everyone else here that your blog is a sanctuary for us.
I find my Limerent Brain can almost take a break while I’m here, and it helps that I know I’m not alone.
God Bless You and take Care of Yourself
-Anna
So sorry DrL. Wishing you well. x
My first comment here, but feel I owe something in return for the huge source of comfort I get from these pages every week. Thank you DrL for all your work. To keep it up right now is beyond the call of duty. But it is hugely appreciated. I have not yet felt grief though death of a very close loved one, so I can’t offer anything on that. But over the last couple of years I have been gripped with my first episode of limerence. Despite normal healthy relationships and a happy marriage, I never experienced anything like this current infatuation. I thought I was alone, going mad, etc. So I want to thank you for helping me understand it, and to try to combat it. And thanks to all the other contributors here as well, who I find are thoughtful and constructive, as evidenced especially this time in the replies to DrL.
Sorry for your loss DR L. Wishing you well also! Take care of yourself first and foremost.
I’m so sorry for your loss, DrL. My deepest condolences. Thank you for your typically thoughtful reflections at a time when you have so much to deal with, emotionally and practically. Sending you love as you grieve the loss of your father. TP x
I’m very sorry for your loss dr L, I just want to say thanks for this website you have set up its helped alot. I wanted to mention whilst reading alot of articles, sexual attraction and beauty seems to be a big part of limerance however in my situation I have actually never been sexually attracted to LO infact I desperately tried to come up with excuses to find her attractive but I simply don’t whatsoever in contrast I have not been limerant at all for beautiful women, has anyone else had an lo who they arnt attracted to all or heard about a similar scanario I honestly feel like I’m the only one!
Me.
Fell for a smart but very ugly son of a *****. (Sorry for this graphic description but it is really at its place as he was and ugly and, as shown up later, deceptive.)
As far as I am concerned, it all came down to a meeting of souls/minds. I felt understood in a very particular way. That was it for me, looks didn’t matter at all (sapiosexual).
Wrong choice, as that person was not authentic: all was a farce, a charade, ment to hook me on.
Me too Draga.
Mine was nice looking tho ( so I thought anyway)
Smooth talker, future faker, love bomber..All the signs of a Narcissist.
Turned out he was. But wow, the connection we had!!
I’m glad the trash took it self out.
My Limerence is fading thank goodness
More angry at myself than anything!
Dr L
A short note to send you condolences.
This website (your work) has been a saviour for me in the last 5-6 weeks.
Thank you.
Dr. L,
I just want to say I am sorry for your loss. You are a wonderful, generous, kind person. Thank you so much for your page and your help along this (sometimes) very arduous path.
I hope you find the kind of consolation you need at this time because you deserve it.
Thank you
I am sorry for your loss Dr. L. Wishing you and your loved ones strength.
I wanted to send my condolences, Dr. L; I’m so very sorry for your loss.
You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers
I am so sorry for your loss, Dr. L.; my deepest condolences to you and your family.
This comment is not related to the topic of this week’s post but is rather a general request that I would like to make of the post’s author, whom I will address directly.
Dr. L, while I think that your weekly posts are often very insightful and offer effective advice, it worries me to see “fit”/conventionally attractive people overwhelmingly represented in the images that accompany them. Of course, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with images of these people appearing in posts that deal with the nature of romantic attraction; I am merely saying that such images would ideally appear with a frequency that’s closer to reflecting real life.
While I make this request sincerely, I acknowledge your right to take it with as much of as little weight as you see fit.
I believe the pictures are typically taken from an archive of stock images that Dr. L probably had a paid subscription to. The trouble with these stock photo archives is that they tend to feature conventionally attractive people. It would be difficult for bloggers to have to pay multiple subscriptions to find a good diversity of photo subjects. But I would encourage you to also appeal to these stock photo archives so they also start providing more variety in their available images.
My condolences Dr. L. I am very sorry to learn about your loss.
Dr. L,
Having suffered the loss myself, I wish you strength and peace during this difficult time. Your resilience in being able to still dedicate yourself to all on this site is awe inspiring and I appreciate your willingness to provide solace to all of us in the face of your grief.
I hope that your grief evolves quickly into fond memories and touching moments. There is comfort in their presence in our memories, but it takes time to get there. I pray that your time in reaching that point is brief.
Thank you for all that you do.
I don’t have much to say other than I am so very sorry to hear about your loss, Dr. L. You have provided incredibly valuable support to this community and a wonderful forum to discuss limerence. I may only be an occasional visitor nowadays, but you helped me tremendously. My deepest condolences to you and your family!
Sorry to hear about the loss of your father, Dr. L. Deepest sympathies to you and your family.
You are not wrong in drawing parallels between the human experience of grief and limerence. There is a website called “The Marginalian”, written by a woman called Maria Popova. She only has a couple of articles on limerence, mostly inspired by an interest in the life of poet Emily Dickinson it seems, but the articles featured are impressively well-written.
Popova seems to believe that grief is indeed limerence’s “closest kin”. And the reason that grief and limerence are so similar, she argues, is due to the tendency of both conditions to be “intrusive” and to “invade consciousness against will”.
I don’t think I’ve ever experienced true grief, as in grief that is intrusive and debilitating, although I have experienced bereavements multiple times. However, I think someone who is non-limerent but who has experienced true grief, may be in a unique position to empathise with the suffering of a limerent loved one. 🤔
I would like to quote my favourite paragraph of Popova’s, if I may, because it is so good, even though it doesn’t touch directly on grief. I just feel she sums up obsessive love so beautifully, and explains why it can be less-than-ideal, particularly for the recipient:
“Anyone who has ever experienced limerence — a staggering more-than-third of the population, although everyone undergoing it feels alienated, alone, and abnormal — feels the instant relief of recognition. Anyone who has never experienced it feels baffled that a state so illogical can so possess otherwise rational and responsible people with no distinct psychopathology. Anyone who has found themselves on the receiving end of it — a ‘limerent object’ — has shared in being at first flattered, then frustrated, then even furious at being so unpeeled from the reality of themselves in the ensnared eyes of the other.”
I’m not sure why Popova claims a third of the population experiences limerence. (Did Tennov suggest that figure in book possibly?) But I like how Popova encourages us to see limerence simultaneously through the eyes of both the LO and the limerent. I.e. limerence can turn out to be extremely “uncomfortable” for both parties. shall we say? 😉
I feel limerence is more love for an ideal than love for an actual flesh-and-blood person. And when we grieve the loss of an LO, because they ghosted us or whatever, I think we are grieving the loss perhaps of some of our own ideals? We are grieving the loss of what could have been or what we would have liked to have been. 😇
I cannot believe that I stumbled upon your blog. It’s a life saver that I know I can now savour. I just lost my father suddenly in February whilst deep in a state of limerance over an LO that will also soon be leaving the country. Of course, this LO has provided absolutely none of the real support that i secretly craved at this difficult time. I find that I am now in a deep state of mourning. I’m ashamed to say that not only am I grieving over the death of my father who meant the world to me. I am also “grieving” over this LO . It’s all very dark and depressing and I’m feeling exceptionally lonely. Bur I’m determined to come out of this state of limerance and am now on NC. Thank you for your blog – it’s like stumbling upon a precious jewel.
I’m very very sorry for your loss – I know exactly how it feels. Pl accept my deepest condolences.
I’m so sorry for your loss Dr L. Wishing you and your family well.
My deepest condoleances with your father, Dr.L
~~~~~~
That metacognition Dr.L mentioned I call “the split” (in absence of better description). At least this method works for me the best. I taught it to myself, found the way intuitively as I red/learned from different sources and it works for me.
I use to split myself in two:
– the one who is walking, talking and doing things, putting myself in (social) situations;
– the one who is consciously (mindfully?(although this word is overused to distortion)) ‘floating’ above, whatching from a distance what the other part of me down there has been doing on ‘an operational level’, evaluating processes, how am I being treated, how am I feeling, other people in the picture, group dynamics etc.
This method helps me standing still:
to detect thoughts and emotions undisturbed, that would otherwise go under radar.
The ‘floating one’ from above makes definite decisions.(Not the one caught in daily struggles/emotions.) Simply depersonalize and, cool minded, decide what I think and feel is the best.
This technique gave me plenty of insights, srof-kniwledge and saved me several mistakes of all different kinds.
Source/inspiration for this ‘split’ technique I have found in one of many philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer’s books, The Essays bundle (free to download on Project Guttenberg web page). Although I adapted it a bit.
The original goes as follows:
“ If you wish to get a clear and profound insight—and it is very needful—into the true but melancholy elements of which most men are made, you will find in a very instructive thing to take the way they behave in the pages of literature as a commentary to their doings in practical life, and vice versa. The experience thus gained will be very useful in avoiding wrong ideas, whether about yourself or about others. But if you come across any special trait of meanness or stupidity—in life or in literature,—you must be careful not to let it annoy or distress you, but to look upon it merely as an addition to your knowledge—a new fact to be considered in studying the character of humanity. Your attitude towards it will be that of the mineralogist who stumbles upon a very characteristic specimen of a mineral.”
So he also sugest certain sort of split, distance, depersonalisation anticipating people/situations.
The adaptation I have made on this is to observe not other people, but myself in different situations. A bit detached and from a distance, in order to get a clearer view.
(I hope I explained my own metacognitive technique clear enough, as English is my 3rd language, so please have mercy if any logical or other faults.)
A group of students at Case Western Reserve University once asked Kurt Vonnegut what life is all about, and he delivered the answer: “We are here to help each other get through this thing…whatever it is.”
Just as much as you have helped me manage my decades-long limerence, I could only imagine you’ve emulated this helpful nature and many other honourable traits from your late father, Dr. L. My deepest condolences to you and your family.
I have been lurking from time to time for the last 2 years but never commented.
Thank you for your insightful articles, they are really a lifesaver. Also I am very sorry about your loss Dr L.
Hear Hear, Kaoru!
An altruistic and inspirational man.
I am so sorry for your loss.
I’m not sure where I would be without having read (and re-read) these blogs together with many of the comments of people experiencing this sometimes overwhelming phenomenon.
I re-read this article tonight because I’ve been thinking about grief a lot these past few weeks as I’ve been dealing with the end of my emotional affair with LO and grief has become my dominant experience since she ended things pretty conclusively 3 weeks ago.
I’ve had one past experience with profound, earth-shattering grief. About 5 years ago, my wife and I had a baby who was born with a severe medical condition. He lived for 1 week in a NICU incubator, until we got the news that there was no chance of survival and it was time to take him off life support. We got to hold him for the first and only time, and he literally died in my arms with my wife sitting next to me.
As you can imagine, the grief was like nothing else. The week he was alive was a raw mix of hope and anxiety, of love for this tiny person and dreams about his future alternating with the constant fears of him not surviving. When he died, all of the anxiety was wiped away along with all of the hope and dreams, to be replaced with an absolutely overwhelming sense of grief and loss. The tears would not stop. I remember having absolutely no idea how I’d be able to drive us home from the hospital that night, or wake up the next morning and care for our other child.
For the first days, the grief was everything. My wife and I were everything for each other – I’d break down sobbing and she’d hold me close, then she’d break down and I’d hold her. We spent time with good friends and that helped. We found support groups, attended therapy, went for long walks, practiced yoga, read books by other grieving parents. Eventually the grief was only sometimes. I could smile again, laugh again, indulge in happy thoughts about the future, although the slightest thing would remind me and I’d break down again.
At one point, I realized that I was actually intentionally holding on to feelings of grief. I’d find myself intentionally ruminating on his death to make myself cry, because letting go of the grief felt like letting go of the love I’d felt for him. The grief was all I had left of him, and so I held onto it longer and tighter than I needed to because I didn’t want to let go of that last link to him. Eventually I found ways to let go. I wrote a heartfelt eulogy for him and delivered it at his memorial service. I got his picture tattooed on my arm. Little by little, I allowed myself to let go of the grief and move forward.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently, because the things I’ve been feeling with the end of my relationship with LO and her impending move away from our workplace feel almost identical to the grief I felt at the loss of our son. I think it sounds crazy to say that, disrespectful even, but it’s true. The feelings come from the same place inside me. The tears are the same tears. The sense of loss, the loss of a person but also the loss of of hope and dreams and love, it just feels the same.
My psychologist said this is actually really normal. That once a person has experienced one major grief, any subsequent losses will awaken those past feelings and compound them. I definitely believe this is true.
Obviously one difference is the disenfranchised aspect of this current grief. I can’t mourn this loss with my wife. I can’t lean on friends and family and coworkers and church members for support. It’s just me and my 2x per month psychologist and you guys. I don’t know where I’d be without you all.
And of course, I’m well aware of just how freaking awful it is that I’ve spent the last 6 months being emotionally unfaithful to my wife after what we’ve been through, after what she’s been through. It’s horribly unfair to her, and leads me to have a lot of questions about what kind of person I actually am. I guess all I can say in my defense is that I’m pretty damaged, I’m working on getting better, and I am fully committed to working on my marriage and being there for my wife forever.
For what it’s worth, I’m sending virtual hugs your way, Lost in Space. I’m sorry about your loss. The loss of a child is so hard. And I know losing an LO before you’re ready is hard, too. I’m sorry you can’t talk about it with the people who you’re closest to.