Free Lunch & Learn on Everything you ever wanted to know about ADHD and Autism Testing | Friday, May 15th @ 12PM | Sign Up Now
Free Lunch & Learn on Everything you ever wanted to know about ADHD and Autism Testing | Friday, May 15th @ 12PM | Sign Up Now

Have you ever felt like you’ve lost someone even though they’re still physically present? 

Maybe it’s a parent with dementia who no longer recognizes you. Or a partner whose addiction has changed them into someone you don’t know anymore. 

Maybe it’s a child who’s pulled away, or a friend whose mental illness has created a wall between you.

That ache you’re feeling? That confusing, complicated grief that doesn’t quite fit into neat categories? There’s a name for it, and we want you to know that what you’re experiencing is real and valid.

It’s called ambiguous grief, and it’s one of the most difficult types of loss to navigate. We see you. We understand how isolating this can feel. 

And we’re here to talk about it with you, openly and honestly.

What is ambiguous grief?

Ambiguous grief is the mourning that happens when you lose someone who is still alive. It’s grief without closure, loss without finality, heartbreak without the typical markers that usually come with death.

The term was coined by a psychologist named Pauline Boss, and honestly, when we learned about it, so much clicked into place. Because ambiguous grief explains that specific kind of pain that so many people carry but struggle to name.

Here’s what makes ambiguous grief so challenging: there’s no funeral, no final goodbye, no clear moment when everyone agrees that yes, a loss has occurred. Society doesn’t necessarily recognize your grief. People might tell you to be grateful the person is still alive, not understanding that you can be grateful for that while also mourning what’s been lost.

There are actually two types of ambiguous grief. The first is when someone is physically absent but psychologically present. Think of a loved one who’s missing, or a soldier deployed overseas, or a child given up for adoption. They’re not in your daily life, but they’re very much alive in your heart and mind.

The second type, which is what we’re focusing on today, is when someone is physically present but psychologically absent. They’re here, you can see them, maybe even touch them, but the person you knew is gone in some fundamental way. The relationship you had has changed or disappeared, even though the person hasn’t.

And that’s where ambiguous grief gets really complicated. Because how do you mourn someone you still see? How do you process loss when there’s no clear ending? How do you move forward when the situation could change tomorrow, or might never change at all?

How do you grieve someone who is still alive?

This is the question that keeps so many people up at night. Because grieving someone who is still alive feels wrong somehow, doesn’t it? Like you’re giving up on them. Like you’re being disloyal or pessimistic.

But we want you to hear this: you can grieve the relationship you had, the person they used to be, the future you thought you’d have together, all while still loving the person who remains. These things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Ambiguous grief often starts with denial. 

You might find yourself thinking “they’ll get better” or “things will go back to normal” even when, deep down, you know that’s not realistic. And that’s okay. That’s your heart trying to protect itself.

Then comes the confusing middle part. You might feel guilty for grieving. You might feel angry at the person, then guilty for feeling angry because they’re sick or suffering. You might feel relieved sometimes, then guilty about the relief. With ambiguous grief, guilt seems to touch everything.

You’re also likely to feel isolated. Friends might not understand why you’re so sad when the person is “still here.” 

They might offer unhelpful advice like “just focus on the good moments” or “at least they’re alive.” They mean well, but it can make you feel even more alone in your grief.

The grief itself can be unpredictable. 

You might have a good day, then see something that reminds you of who they used to be and suddenly you’re crying in the grocery store. Holidays and anniversaries can be especially hard when you’re experiencing ambiguous grief. The person is there, but they’re also not there, and that contradiction is exhausting.

One thing we’ve learned is that grieving someone who is still alive requires a different kind of acceptance. 

Not acceptance that things will never change, because sometimes they do. But acceptance that right now, in this moment, things are what they are. The person you’re grieving is different now. The relationship has changed. 

And acknowledging that reality isn’t giving up, it’s being honest.

What situations commonly cause ambiguous grief?

We want to walk through some of the most common situations that lead to ambiguous grief, because sometimes just knowing you’re not alone in your specific experience can help.

Dementia and Alzheimer’s disease are probably the most widely recognized causes of ambiguous grief. 

Watching someone’s memories fade, their personality change, their recognition of you disappear… it’s a unique kind of heartbreak. You’re losing them gradually, piece by piece, sometimes over years. 

The person’s body is there, but the person you knew is slipping away.

Addiction creates profound ambiguous grief. When someone you love is in active addiction, they often become someone you don’t recognize. Their priorities shift, their behavior changes, sometimes their entire personality seems different. 

You’re grieving the person they were before addiction took hold, while also dealing with the chaos and pain of their current reality.

Mental illness can also lead to ambiguous grief. 

A partner with severe depression who’s emotionally unavailable. A parent with bipolar disorder whose mood swings have damaged your relationship. A child with schizophrenia who’s experiencing psychosis. The person is present, but the illness creates a barrier that can feel insurmountable.

Traumatic brain injuries often result in personality changes that create ambiguous grief. Families tell us their loved one survived the accident, and they’re grateful, but the person who came home is fundamentally different from the person who left that morning.

Estrangement is another major cause of ambiguous grief. 

When an adult child cuts off contact, or a parent refuses to see you, or a sibling stops speaking to you, you’re left with this open-ended loss. They’re alive somewhere, but not in your life. And you might not even know why, or whether reconciliation is possible.

Divorce can bring ambiguous grief too, especially when kids are involved. 

You’re no longer partners, but you’re still connected. You see them at school events, at exchanges. You might have loved who they were when you got married, and you’re grieving that version of them, that version of your life together.

Incarceration creates ambiguous grief for families. Your loved one is alive but absent from your daily life, and the person who eventually comes home might be changed by their experience.

Even things like immigration or military deployment can trigger ambiguous grief. The physical absence combined with the uncertainty about when or if they’ll return creates that ambiguous space where grief lives.

How can you cope with ambiguous grief without closure?

Here’s what we wish everyone experiencing ambiguous grief understood: the lack of closure doesn’t mean you can’t heal. It just means healing looks different.

First, we encourage you to name what you’re feeling. Call it what it is: ambiguous grief. There’s power in having language for your experience. You’re not crazy, you’re not overreacting, you’re not being dramatic. You’re grieving, and that’s legitimate.

Let yourself feel all the contradictory emotions. 

You can be grateful someone is alive and also devastated by what you’ve lost. You can love them and be angry at them. You can miss who they were and feel resentful about who they’ve become. With ambiguous grief, contradictions are normal. You don’t have to resolve them or pick one feeling over another.

Create rituals, even small ones. Maybe you write letters you’ll never send. Maybe you look at old photos on their birthday and allow yourself to remember. Maybe you light a candle. Rituals help us process grief even when there’s no funeral or formal structure to hold our feelings.

Set boundaries to protect yourself. This is especially important with ambiguous grief around addiction, mental illness, or estrangement. Loving someone doesn’t mean you have to keep subjecting yourself to harm. You can grieve the relationship you wanted while also protecting your own wellbeing.

Find your people. Support groups for caregivers, for families of people with addiction, for parents of estranged adult children… these communities understand ambiguous grief in a way that others might not. You need people who get it, who won’t tell you to just be positive or look on the bright side.

Therapy can be incredibly helpful with ambiguous grief. We work with people navigating these losses all the time, and having a space where all your complicated feelings are welcome, where nothing is off limits, where you don’t have to perform gratitude or hope… that can be healing.

Practice self-compassion. You’re doing something really hard. You’re loving someone through impossible circumstances. You’re grieving without closure, which is one of the most challenging forms of grief there is. Be gentle with yourself.

And here’s something important: it’s okay to live your life even while you’re grieving. That’s not betrayal. You can laugh, find joy, make plans, move forward, all while carrying this grief. With ambiguous grief, moving forward doesn’t mean leaving the person behind. It means learning to hold both the loss and your life at the same time.

Ambiguous grief doesn’t follow a timeline. It doesn’t have stages you complete and then you’re done. It’s more like learning to live with uncertainty, to find meaning even when things don’t resolve neatly, to love and grieve simultaneously.

We know this is hard. We know it’s lonely. We know it’s confusing and painful and exhausting. But you don’t have to navigate ambiguous grief alone. We’re here, we see you, and we believe in your capacity to hold this complicated loss while still building a life that feels meaningful to you.

Your grief is real. Your loss is real. And you deserve support that honors both.