Those of you who know me personally are aware that my son Nikolai passed away in November. Our family has been navigating this unimaginable loss, and while everyone’s grief is unique, I wanted to share a few tips for those who may want to support someone going through it. One thing that has been instrumental in helping us cope is the overwhelming love and support from our community. If you’re wondering how to be there for a friend or family member, below are a few things that have truly made a difference.

Tips That Have Helped Me

Offer Practical Help: Please don’t ask me what I need, especially in the early months of grief. Often, I don’t even know what I need. Offering practical support can be a game-changer. Our community set up a meal train, if you don’t know what this is, look it up, because it saved our family tremendously! Friends brought over groceries; some asked what we needed, while others simply brought staples. Offering to help with things like carpooling kids can also be incredibly helpful. Sometimes small gestures make a big difference, and every act of kindness is so appreciated.

When in Doubt Reach Out: There are times when I need solitude to process my feelings, but that doesn’t mean I want to be forgotten. I don’t want to be left alone entirely, I truly don’t. If you’re unsure how to show support, a simple text is more than enough. If I’m not in a place to respond, please don’t take it personally. We could go for a walk or just sit and talk. Even if I don’t take you up on it right away, knowing you’re there means the world.

Avoid Clichés: Phrases like “They’re in a better place” or “Time heals all wounds” can unintentionally minimize the pain. Acknowledging my grief without trying to fix it allows me to feel seen and understood.

Celebrate the Memories: Say his name. Tell me any memories you have. I want to know that he is still remembered. Celebrating their life rather than focusing only on their absence can be a great comfort.

Avoid Comparisons: Please don’t compare your pain to mine, and please don’t say you understand—because, truthfully, you can’t. Everyone’s grief is deeply personal, and while your intentions may be kind, comparisons can unintentionally diminish what I’m experiencing.

Listen Without Judgment: There are days when I need to talk, vent, or even express emotions I can’t fully understand. Having someone who listens without offering solutions or judgments is invaluable. Just letting me feel heard is incredibly healing.
To those who have been walking with me through this journey, thank you. Your support means the world. If you’re supporting someone through grief, know that even the smallest gesture can have a lasting impact.

What is Death Anxiety in Psychology? 

Death anxiety is a persistent presence in our lives. It’s often unspoken and misunderstood, but it’s a core fear that shapes how we live. This anxiety doesn’t just appear in obvious ways—it seeps into our thoughts, influences our decisions, and drives many of our behaviors, whether we’re aware of it or not. We might try to outrun it, deny it, or look to others to shield us from it, but the reality of our impermanence is inescapable. Psychotherapy offers a space to approach these fears, transforming our relationship with death and ultimately enriching our lives.  

How to Overcome Death Anxiety 

Okay, okay… I know the title of this blog says how psychotherapy can help you overcome death anxiety. “Overcome” is a bit of an exaggeration because the truth is, psychotherapy doesn’t make death anxiety disappear—it helps you learn to coexist with it. Death anxiety is a universal experience— your therapist struggles with it too because it’s a part of being human! Yes, your therapist will die one day too! 

Death anxiety is not something that can be overcome or fixed, nor is it something a therapist can simply resolve for you. Instead, psychotherapy guides you in facing your fear of death so it no longer rules your life. Through therapy, you’ll learn to live with uncertainty and coexist with your fears. Although therapy won’t erase death anxiety, it can transform your relationship with it, shift how you view your current existence, and guide you toward living a life rooted in your values and meaning. You’ll learn to lean into the discomfort, face your fears, and find ways to cope, even when the answers are out of reach or unclear. 

4 Ways Psychotherapy Can Help You Overcome Death Anxiety 

1. Acknowledging Death as Part of Your Life

Death is the elephant in the room—something we all know is there but rarely speak of. This silence can make the fear of death feel even more isolating and overwhelming. In therapy, there’s a space to talk about death openly and honestly, without judgment or fear of being dismissed. By recognizing death as an inevitable part of life—and accepting one day you will die- we can diminish its power over us. The goal isn’t to eliminate the fear but to integrate it into our understanding of what it means to live.  

2. Uncovering Defenses

Our fear of death often hides behind various coping mechanisms that protect us but also keep us stuck. We might secretly believe that death won’t come for us, living as if we’re invincible or postponing things because we think we have all the time in the world. We may place our hope in someone or something we believe can rescue us from death—whether it’s a doctor, a treatment, a partner, or a religion. Perhaps our anxiety about death gets displaced as a fear of certain places, objects, or situations because these seem more manageable, controllable, and less scary than facing our mortality. In psychotherapy, we explore these defenses and the roles they play in our lives. By understanding these patterns, we gain insight into how we are limiting ourselves. This exploration empowers us to make more conscious choices about how we want to live.  

3. Making New Choices

Confronting death anxiety often brings us face-to-face with our regrets—the “what ifs” and “if onlys” that haunt us. By reflecting on what we wish we had done differently, we gain clarity on how we want to live going forward. This process empowers us to make choices that align with our values, helping us live in a way that minimizes future regrets. Rather than being paralyzed by what we can’t change, we learn to focus on what we can—our actions, our intentions, and our commitment to living a satisfying life. 

4. Transforming Anxiety into a Catalyst for Mindful Living

Psychotherapy doesn’t aim to eliminate anxiety; instead, it helps us reframe it as a guide that can point us toward a more intentional life. Instead of simply marveling at the way things are, we learn to appreciate that they are. We become more attuned to the present moment, continuously aware of our own existence and that life can end. This mindfulness fosters a deeper appreciation for the everyday moments we often overlook, allowing us to engage with every moment of life. 

Conclusion 

Life and death are inextricably linked—two sides of the same coin. Confronting death anxiety in psychotherapy isn’t about banishing fear; it’s about learning to live alongside it. By exploring our anxieties, defenses, and regrets, therapy offers a path to a more authentic existence, one where we can embrace life with all its uncertainties. Through this work, we find that a lifelong consideration of death doesn’t impoverish life; it enriches it, inviting us to live more mindfully, bravely, and with a renewed sense of purpose. 

If you are interested in learning about therapy or would like to setup an appointment with Person to Person Psychotherapy, serving New Jersey & New York residents, call 908-224-0007. 

Dear GoodTherapy.org,

I’ve managed to get to age 66 without writing a will. The thought has always terrified me, but now it’s more real than ever. As my kids start (gently) pressuring me to consider talking to a lawyer about finally drawing one up, I’m feeling more and more anxious about it.

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Death doesn’t really scare me so much, but having a document that my family will read when I die makes it terribly real. It brings up images in my head of them all going through it together and everything being so final. I know I’m at an age where I can no longer ignore it or put it off, but I stubbornly want to never deal with it.

Do you have any advice for someone who is anxious to tears about doing this? Or any thoughts about how to get through the process without falling apart? —Wills and Grace

Dear WAG,

I’m sorry to hear about your struggle. End-of-life matters are inherently unpleasant, but it sounds like your anxiety is running overtime and making those matters much worse. First and foremost, I recommend working with a therapist who can help you better understand the nature and origin of your anxious feelings. That insight may yield opportunities to identify soothing and coping strategies that make it easier for you to follow through on the difficult task of developing a will.

“Thy will be done”—sooner rather than later. And although you didn’t ask, this applies to health proxies and powers of attorney as well. These are important legal documents designed to safeguard yourself and your family. See a lawyer, then write, sign, and file these papers, which are designed to make everyone’s life easier, including your own. Tell your kids where they can find them. Give them copies.

The original documents should be kept in a safe place. Safe place doesn’t necessarily mean safe deposit box, because your kids will not be able to enter that box without your prior written permission. Arrange with the bank and one of your kids so they have permission to open the box; otherwise, they will need a court order. Give that kid their own key and let them all know where your bank is.

In fact, organize your financial documents and tell your kids where they are. I keep mine in the upper left-hand drawer of my desk, and my kids know that. Let your kids know the names and contact information for your doctors, lawyers, and bank. Make a list of important information and give it to them. You will also need to ask someone to be your executor, the person in charge of carrying out your wishes.

If it seems like I speak from experience, it’s because I do. I have a will, and it divides my estate among family members and gives a little bit to the public library and some other places.

I assume you have assets. If you become seriously ill, your kids may need these assets to help pay for your medical care. Make it easy for them in both your life and your death, which, you write, “doesn’t scare you.” Just thinking about it does! Yes, this all makes the prospect of your death terribly real. Death is terribly real for everybody; unfortunately, ignoring it doesn’t prevent it.

You worry about “falling apart” while getting this all together. I’m not sure what you mean by that, but I do know that by 66 you’ve done a lot of hard things, probably fell apart doing some of them, and then put yourself back together. Here’s your chance to do that again.

You write that you “stubbornly” don’t want to deal with your eventual death, but it’s your kids who will have to deal with it. Your kids will be dealing with their sorrow and maybe also their frustration with your unwillingness to prepare for their future without you. You sound like you love them, and I’m guessing if you’re 66 they may be in their 30s or 40s, which means you’ve seen them through many difficulties and perhaps crises of their own. Here’s your last chance—literally the last—to take care of your kids. Do it for your kids, if not for yourself.

You’re concerned about your family reading your will, but you don’t say what it is that concerns you. Yes, it is sad to think of your kids reading your final wishes and reacting to your death. It’s even worse thinking of them having to sort out your finances while they are in states of grief. They’ll be grieving if you don’t have a will or if you do have one, but I imagine they’ll feel worse if you haven’t prepared them for how you want things to go when you die. They have been asking you, after all. They’re concerned. Would they be angry with you if you don’t have a will?

You worry about “falling apart” while getting this all together. I’m not sure what you mean by that, but I do know that by 66 you’ve done a lot of hard things, probably fell apart doing some of them, and then put yourself back together. Here’s your chance to do that again. You might ask a trusted friend or relative if they can help, or you might consult a therapist along the way. Aging gives us many things to worry about; death may be the least of them.

It is very painful to imagine yourself separated from the people you love. You won’t know what happens next in their stories, and that is sad. I personally would love to meet my great grandchildren and their children, too, or at least see into the future and know their biographies. Our children’s lives will go on without us, as they should. But as their lives proceed, the part we played continues to live on within them. Keep those memories clear, lead the way forward, and show them a positive model of aging and death.

I wish you well as you navigate this struggle.

Kind regards,

Lynn Somerstein, PhD, E-RYT