Grieving a Twin Soul when you have Emotional Impairment is difficult – it's disorienting. Grief, which is often described as waves of sadness that comes and go is difficult. For some, it is an emotion that rises and falls, but when you live with a disability that affects emotional responses, there is little to no feeling at all. With little to no feeling, grief has taken on a different form, one that is quieter, less recognisable. 

For me, it feels more like a distant void – a muted sense of loss that is there, one that I cannot reach. Although I understand the significance of the loss of my twin, it's an awareness that I have lost something monumental, but without the expected floods of feelings. I know the loss is real. I struggle to put into words how I feel, but I still understand. The emotions, however, remain physically out of reach – locked away, distant, and untouchable. There is a total disconnection. There is no feeling of warmth or sorrow, there is no feeling at all. It's like looking at old photographs of a life you recognise that you are unable to access, or be a part of – the absence of any emotions means I am not physically able to feel, or physically able to grieve.

I am aware the grief shows up but it shows up differently. For two years now, since the death of my twin, I am mentally fatigued, as though my body is still carrying the weight of the loss. Separated and distanced from my previous life I move through the day on autopilot, aware of an emptiness. There are times when I think about my twin, but the emotions that should accompany those thoughts aren’t there.

I am processing it cognitively, without the emotional current that normally makes grief feel real.

It’s mentally draining. I'm in a permanent state of 'nothing' in what I can only describe as an abyss. My spiritual side knows the bond with my twin hasn’t disappeared. It does exist beyond my emotional reach, but out of reach and touch, It makes the whole experience of losing her numbing. Sometimes I wish for a fleeting feeling that she is nearby, even though I can’t access my emotions. Her loss is painful.

But grieving without any emotions doesn’t make my loss any less real. It’s different, and hard to explain. I carry the loss in other ways. Through the stillness I remember a life gone by, the difficult life we shared together – also when I'm still, when I'm writing – in the evening and when I see the light behind me flicker in the room.

Even though I am not able to grieve, I know my twin is still with me. The load today feels 'lighter' but that could change tomorrow. Even without the emotions, I know the soul bond with my twin continues. My connection with her remains real and enduring, regardless of the difficulties I have in accessing her.