When I was walking my dog the other day, I asked Siri to play an NPR news briefing. It was a clear, bright morning. I felt good and was happy to be up and getting a jump on the day. And I like getting our walk completed before others begin walking their pooches. #socialdistancing. But as the report spoke into my ears with the latest statistics of COVID-19, I found myself crying as we walked down the sidewalk along now-silent Lincoln Avenue.

It’s happened before—just out of nowhere. No news or anything. Just while going about my business whether working or watching TV or reading. Out of the blue, I’m overcome with emotion that I couldn’t identify—except to call it sadness.

I took my pooch on a walk the went past a friends house earlier. I waved and played a madeup game in the window with my 2-year old buddy, their daughter. It was so great see her—all of them—in person even though there was a pane of glass between us. After a few minutes we continued on our journey, and it wasn’t long before the giddy happiness I’d felt turned to something else. My emotions churned like a spinning wheel without ever really stopping on one I could identify. Again, it was sadness…or something. Not just for that moment and for missing her and my friends. For all of it. Everything.

Sometimes I find myself weighed down by something. Like I’m walking underwater and any movement takes an incredible amount of energy–energy I don’t have. And even if I can do it, it seems pointless and waste of time. I think I’ve figured it out: it’s a generalized depression–as a result of grief.

Since late March when state’s shelter-in-place order went into effect, there have been moments I was consumed by generalized anxiety and depression–no matter what I was doing. My eyes would well up, my throat would tighten. Or I wanted to disconnect from the world and fall asleep. It was perplexing, but I was determined to figure it out. And it took a few instances for me to understand what it was and what they continue to be: a griefburst.

I’d experienced griefbursts for years following the death of my husband Ken. It was then that I understood much of what I was feeling–the turmoil, sadness and depression within me–is grief—and the spectrum of complex emotions that entails. We’re all mourning the loss of so many things: physical social interaction, jobs, finances…an entire way of life, and and all old “knowns” of our future. We’re grieving for what is to come and how it will impact us and our loved ones.

Grief is a chameleon and can easily confused with so many emotions, as the root of them. Grief isn’t like other emotions. It’s trickier. I think it’s designed to help you transition from one part of your life to another–whether you want to or not. It’s the human response to drastic change–loss. And there is this thing about grief that I’ve learned firsthand that after it begins and you experience “long enough” that you’re “over it.” But that isn’t how it works. I know the only way “out” of grief is “through” it. Acknowledging and surrendering to it is how I’ve managed it.

But, the good news is I learned this incredibly helpful technique for managing grief that takes some practice, but is so worth it. And I think it applies here. It’s called “dosing,” meaning you devote a preset amount of time thinking about what you’re worried about–all the dark things. A physical timer is a great way of getting started. I’d recommend 30 minutes maximum. Once the timer goes off, you have to go about your life and think about anything else. Busy yourself. With practice, it becomes increasingly easier to do. It’s like exercising a muscle you didn’t know you had.

For me, it’s important to acknowledge how I’m feeling and to remember to forgive myself for feeling however and whatever I’m feeling. I’ve never lived through a global pandemic where the daily news is filled with bad news, along with an exaggerated news cycle which seems to focus on the wrong things. There are no examples to follow and each of us will react to this “new normal” differently.

Grief is like an old friend who shows up at your door unannounced. You have to invite it in and sit down for a visit, but you can make the visit as short as you want. Then it’s time to show it the door. We can’t control everything, but dosing is a useful way to get a handle on how you’re feeling.