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Tag: sadness

  • Frozen in Sadness

    This statue struck me; the heaviness in its posture, the child frozen in sorrow. It reminded me of grief.

    Grief can feel like that: still, silent, and impossibly heavy. A child weighed down by the heartbreak of the world.

    There is so much hurt happening around us, and grief is a universal emotion. But please—don’t become like this statue. Don’t let pain freeze you in time.

    Feel the sadness. Let yourself mourn. But it is also important to take moments to feel the sun on your skin, the breeze in your hair, the rain on your face. Seek out the beauty that still exists, even in the midst of loss.

    Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means continuing, step by gentle step. Please don’t cancel it out or rush through the hurt. Learn to walk, softly and slowly, alongside the grief and sorrow.

  • Emotional First Aid: Sadness

    Grief and loss are never easy to move through. However, they can be navigated with grace, hope, and support. Today, I want to share my lived experience of maneuvering and walking alongside grief.

    Wearing the Emotion

    When I was experiencing sadness, I had a habit of wearing the emotion. If I was sad, I believed that sadness was all I was allowed to be. So I cried, I stayed in bed, and I sat with my sadness. That became my entire world.

    Consequently, the problems that arose were too many to count. I lost motivation. I didn’t eat because I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t laugh because I thought it would be a betrayal of what I had lost. This went on for several months.

    I had forgotten that the person I lost would have seen me in that state and thought, “‘Come on, don’t do this to yourself.” Of course, they would’ve wanted me to live my life to the fullest and have joy,  but in the deepest throes of mourning, it felt as if I was frozen in grief, unable to live.

    Gaining Insight and Truth

    It took several gentle conversations with my support human before things slowly began to shift. I learned that the pain was too much to bear—it was supposed to be too much.  The amount that I was hurting was equal to the amount of love I shared with the person I lost. But I learned there was another way of handling and maneuvering through the loss.

    One day, someone offered me this metaphor: “When you put your hand on a hot stove, you immediately pull it away. But with sadness, you left your hand there.”

    I wasn’t literally burning my hand—but emotionally, I was. I kept myself in that pain without even realizing I could shift. I was gently reminded not to leave my hand on the stove.

    Practicing the Skills

    That’s when I was introduced to skills—ways of leaning into the discomfort for a time, and then leaning out again. For me, the skill of distraction worked wonders. I was encouraged to try things that might help me get my mind off the constant pain of loss.

    I found a simple hobby: diamond dotting- A meditative hobby where you place tiny colored gems onto a canvas, one by one. At first, I cried while doing it. But it required just enough focus that it gave my mind a break from the overwhelming grief. I’d place each tiny gem on the canvas, one at a time, and the rhythm of it helped me breathe again.

    I’d work on it for a while, then get up and do something else. When the sadness washed over me, I let it. But only for a time. Then I returned to the diamond dotting. Little by little, life started moving again. My heart started healing.

    New & Healthy Pattern

    I was giving myself space to grieve—but not letting the grief consume me. And eventually, that became my way of processing loss.

    Years later, when another wave of grief hit me, something beautiful happened. The pattern returned. I was able to function through the grief while still honoring it. I created something beautiful while thinking about the person I had lost. And when it was finished, I held it in my hands and whispered, “I made this for you. While missing you. While healing through you.”

    That project didn’t erase my grief. But it reminded me that I can create through my loss. I can live without betraying what I loved.

    A dear friend of mine once shared their own grieving ritual; When they’re grieving, they go outside and find a new place to sit and birdwatch—somewhere unfamiliar. It forces them to focus on their surroundings. And in that space, they’ve spotted birds and creatures they’ve never seen before. It gives their brain something else to engage with.

    Hope Moving Forward

    That’s what healing can look like.

    We don’t have to stay on the stove.
    We don’t have to stop feeling to start living.
    We just have to find one small thing that lets us breathe through the loss. If one thing doesn’t help—try something else.
    Your process is allowed to be messy, gentle, quiet, creative, slow.
    But you’re allowed to try. You’re allowed to live.

    I’ve learned to walk alongside grief instead of letting it pull me under. There are still days when sadness crashes over me. When sadness arises, I simply ask, “Hey there, grief. What do you want to show me today?”

    Grief doesn’t go away. But we can learn to live with it in a way that honors our loss and celebrates our life. You don’t have to walk through this alone.

  • Emotional First-Aid: For Grief

    When Grief Feels Like a Sink-Hole

    Sadness—no matter the reason—can feel like a heavy blow. Like getting knocked down with the wind taken from your lungs. For some, it can feel like your heart is breaking into pieces. When grief and gloom wash over us, they can alter the way we move through daily life. (Click here to read more about sadness.)

    And yet, the world doesn’t always give us the time we need to grieve. In most workplaces, the offer is three to five days off for bereavement. But grief doesn’t follow a calendar. It doesn’t clock in and clock out. Grief can pull us into a disorienting fog—sometimes mirroring depression. There’s a fine line between the two. Grief is often temporary, while depression lingers, but the symptoms can overlap:

    • Losing interest in things we once loved
    • Changes in appetite
    • Disrupted sleep—too much or too little
    • Difficult concentrating

    Grief is Complex

    Here’s what I believe: everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time.
    If you’ve never experienced grief, it can feel impossible to navigate. How do you practice handling something you’ve never faced? The truth is, you can’t truly prepare—but you can learn and practice a few skills that might help for when the time comes.

    Even if you’ve experienced grief before, every loss is different. Each loss may hit you in a new, unexpected way. So today, I want to share a few gentle tools that can support you during those moments when it feels like you’re sinking into sadness. I want to be clear: these skills aren’t a magic fix. They won’t erase your pain or end your sadness—but they might help ease it, even just a little. The more tools you have in your emotional first aid kit, the better prepared you’ll be to weather the storm.

    Four Skills to Practice

    1. Movement

    Now, I know—when you’re curled up in bed crying, the last thing you’re thinking about is exercise. This isn’t about hitting the gym or pushing yourself to do a full workout. (Although if that’s your thing, go for it!) It doesn’t need to look like much to make a difference.

    Instead, think of movement as gentle motion with intention. A slow walk around the block. Standing outside and feeling the sun on your skin. Five minutes is better than zero. Ten minutes is better than five. Small wins matter while we are grieving. Try to notice your surroundings—look for birds, blooming flowers, or the feel of the breeze.

    You can also try stretching, yoga, or a short bike ride. Movement helps shake up stuck emotions. It reduces stress, boosts your endorphins, and offers your mind a gentle shift in focus.

    2. Journaling

    Writing can be a powerful release. Journal doesn’t need to make sense or be neat. Let it be messy, raw, real. Don’t worry about grammar or spelling.  You can journal about what happened, about your person, about what you’ve lost. You can also write about the good—the joy they brought to your life, or the lessons they left behind.

    Reflecting on positive memories might even bring a smile through the tears. Write about how your life is changing, or how you’re feeling at the moment. Let your journal hold the sorrow and the sweetness, side by side. Example:

    “It hurts to lose my friend. But before she left this earth, she taught me so much about kindness, laughter, and resilience.”

    You might be surprised what comes up when you let yourself write; grief is complex. By allowing both the hard and the good to coexist on the page, you begin to make space in your heart for both pain and peace.

    3. Connection

    Grief can make us isolate ourselves. I know that’s my pattern—I tend to be alone… a lot.
    But connection is one of the most healing things we can offer ourselves.

    Reach out to a friend—not necessarily to talk about your loss, but just to chat, to hear about their day, to remind yourself that life is still unfolding outside of sadness. It can be a breath of fresh air.

    You might also find comfort in support groups. Hearing from others who are grieving can remind you: you’re not alone. Through sharing your story, you can receive guidance and care while offering the same to others.

    Professional support is another form of connection. I know this one can be hard—it might feel vulnerable to reach out. Like, “I should be able to handle this on my own.” But asking for help is not weakness—it’s courage. It’s saying, “I’m feeling this deeply, and I need support to move through it.”

    Connection can offer new perspectives. It can open the door to healing.

    4. Distraction

    Distraction isn’t about avoiding your feelings—it’s about giving your system a break. I’ve found that doing something simple and low-effort helps lighten my emotional load, even if just for a little while. 

    It might be:

    • A puzzle or diamond dot art
    • Reorganizing a drawer
    • Watching a light-hearted show
    • Playing a silly game on your phone
    • Listening to a podcast while folding laundry

    It doesn’t have to be meaningful or productive. It just needs to give your brain a different task—something that gently interrupts the spiral of grief and gives you space to breathe. Our brain and body weren’t meant to feel everything all at once, all the time. Be kind to yourself. Give yourself permission to use distraction.

    Bridge Forward

    These skills aren’t a cure—but they can be a bridge. They can carry you through the hard moments, so you can come back to your feelings when you’re ready, rather than wearing them or being consumed. Grief is temporary, it is not designed to be worn for long periods of time, if that ends up being the case the consequences and results can be more challenging to overcome. You owe it to yourself to choose compassion and grace, there is no need to rush grief. We can change our patterns and learn to ride along with grief with grace.

  • Through the Lens: Sadness

    Photo by Shannon

    Stillness Above The Surface

    Sadness can feel empty and hollow. We may struggle with feeling lifeless—just floating along—or find ourselves wanting to hunker down because the world might not understand the depth of our sorrow. This image reflects that sensation: black and white, gloomy, even eerie.

    But sadness is more than what we see on the surface. Not many people can understand your sadness in the way that you do. Because underneath this floating, lifeless branch, fish are taking shelter among the twisted wood. Life is still moving—just differently.

    The sadness we feel in the face of loss is equal to the care, passion, and love we had for the person or situation that has ended. As heavy as sadness can be, it is also a beautiful privilege to grieve so deeply.

  • My walk with Sadness

    A friend of mine was heartbroken after the loss of their animal companion. They were distraught and vulnerable—and on top of their grief, they were judging themselves for feeling it so deeply. “It was just a pet,” they said. “This shouldn’t be affecting me this much. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat…”

    But the truth is, the pain wasn’t just grief—it was layered with shame. And that shame was making everything feel heavier. I listened as they shared stories, and I asked about the bond they had with their beloved pet. We laughed together, and we cried together. I could feel their pain, and honestly, it brought up some of my own losses too.

    As a Peer Support Specialist, I gently reminded them: “The depth of your grief shows the depth of your love.” This pet wasn’t just a pet—it was a support animal, someone who had been by their side every day for years. Of course it was going to hurt. It was beautiful to witness a love so deep that the loss could echo that powerfully.

    That moment reminded me to offer myself the same compassion. The sadness I’ve felt in my own life has revealed just how deeply I love and care for the people I’ve lost. Someone once asked me why I was still grieving a situation from years ago. My answer was simple: “Because I love them. And I always will.”

    Once I stopped fighting my sadness and started accepting it, I learned something important—my job wasn’t to get rid of it or pretend it wasn’t there. My path forward only opened up when I made space for grief to walk beside me.

    It took me until my 40s to really begin understanding grief and loss—and of course, I took the hard road. I experienced a loss that brought me to my knees. I barely ate. Depression settled in, and I spent months mostly sleeping. I lost so much weight it became frightening. At that point, it felt like grief was winning. Nothing else seemed to matter.

    But here’s the truth: when grief becomes too heavy, asking for help is not weakness. Doing only the bare minimum for a while is not failure. Grief doesn’t arrive because we’re weak—it shows up because we’re strong enough to face what’s real.

    And that reality? It hurts. Grief is raw and tender at the same time. But allowing ourselves to feel it fully is one of the most courageous things we can do.

  • Emotional Regulation: Sadness

    Getting to Know Sadness

    Sadness is an emotion we all experience, yet it remains one of the most complex and misunderstood. Many assume sadness is simply about tears—crying when we grieve. And while grief is generally accepted, it often comes with an unspoken time limit. When we lose someone we love, there’s an expectation to mourn, but only for so long. Eventually, the world expects us to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and move on. Sadness has been placed in a box—acknowledged, but rarely explored beyond the surface.

    What does sadness feel like?

    But sadness isn’t just about crying. It’s often linked to depression because many of their symptoms overlap. Sadness can look like a quiet withdrawal, struggling to laugh or smile, speaking in softer tones. It can mean feeling detached, sleeping more, losing motivation, and finding it hard to keep up with routines. It can manifest as exhaustion—both physical and emotional.

    When someone dies, people expect sadness, but not everyone reacts the same way. Not everyone cries when they hear about the loss of a loved one. Sometimes, sadness is a deep emptiness—an ache in the pit of your stomach, a longing so intense it feels like your heart is physically breaking. And the agony that comes with it? It can feel unbearable, like you might actually die from the weight of it. This isn’t an exaggeration; for many, it’s a very real and visceral experience. Yet, it’s rarely talked about or fully understood.

    Sadness in the body

    • deep emptiness
    • quiet withdrawl
    • struggling to laugh or even smile
    • speaking softly
    • sleeping more
    • loss of motivation
    • changes in appetite

    Types of sadness

    Sadness and grief aren’t just tied to death. We grieve in so many ways—over the loss of a pet, the end of a friendship, moving away, or even setting a boundary that someone else doesn’t accept. Sometimes, grief follows happy moments too, like reaching a milestone or closing a meaningful chapter in life. The end of something good can still bring a sense of loss.

    Sadness is vast and layered, and it deserves more understanding. Instead of brushing it aside or trying to rush through it, maybe we need to sit with it—get to know it, listen to what it’s telling us, and allow ourselves to feel without judgment.

    Coping with Sadness

    When we take the time to get to know sadness it can reveal  the things that matter to us, it can show us where we need to adapt or make changes. Sadness can teach empathy and how to support others.  It is a privilege to have closure, but many things in this life we grieve don’t give us the luxury of closure and so I’ve found that taking the time to create closure for myself has been helpful.

    Allow Yourself the Time and Space to Grieve
    Sadness needs room to breathe. It’s okay to not “bounce back” right away. Giving yourself permission to grieve—without rushing or minimizing your feelings—can be deeply healing. Whether that looks like a quiet afternoon alone, crying it out, or simply naming what you’re feeling, this space allows your heart to process what it’s carrying. Taking time to reflect on the meaningful moments or the lessons learned can gently support the healing process and offer comfort as you move forward.

    Honor What Was Lost
    Sometimes, creating a tangible way to honor a loss can bring comfort and meaning. Planting a plant, writing a letter to express what you didn’t get to say, or gathering keepsakes into a memory box, helps externalize the pain and reflect on what mattered. These small acts can become sacred spaces for healing, allowing you to carry the memory with tenderness instead of only pain.

    The one thing about grief that I want to share is that it tends to show up when you least expect it. Even if you said good bye and went through a mourning period, grief can choose to show up whenever it wants. And these are the times that I struggle with most with grief. I’ve had to change plans because I needed more time. While visiting with a friend grief showed up and kind of spoiled that time but I learned that the people currently in my life, although they might not understand the pain of grief and to the level I feel it, they loving hold space for me and support me-even when triggers of grief arrive.