Grief has been freeing in ways I didn’t expect. Actually acknowledging the pain, the feelings, the events, and dealing with them instead of pushing them away has brought a strange kind of relief. It’s difficult, but very honest. This honesty has been freeing. That said, it’s also incredibly exhausting. Some days it feels like my mind has run a marathon. After years of shoving the hard things aside, actually feeling them takes real energy. One those days, I’m finding myself wanting to nap- get into my sweats, curl up under a heavy blanket and close my eyes and the let the sleep take me away. Sometimes naps are okay, but there are times when what actually helps is going outside and engaging my mind in work, moving my body, taking a walk. This helps regulate what it stirring inside me. I’m learning to listen to my body’s needs instead of forcing myself into one version of “doing it right.”
Letting Myself Feel Without Justification.
One thing that has been new for me is this: I no longer require a reason to cry. There are days in this season where I simply feel like crying. Not because something specific happened. Not because something is “wrong.” Not because I even know why.- Just because there’s an emotion moving in me and it hasn’t had space before. For a long time I felt like tears had to be justified and earned. Something needed to be “bad enough” to cry about or to hurt. Now, I’m embracing the fact that sometimes tears are just part of processing. They don ‘t need permission. They don’t need a storyline.
The Emotional Swing No One Warns You About:
Historically, I’ve been a very reasonable and composed woman, so, now when I am experiencing mood swings, I feel very thrown off by it. Some days I experience big mood swings. I can feel irritable, emotional, happy, motivated, and overwhelmed by anything. It’s not logical. It’s not rational. It’s not reasonable. And it’s definitely not comfortable. However, it is real. It is normal for this process. And it’s not “wrong.” I’m learning that grief doesn’t move in straight lines. It leaks into unexpected places. It shows up as impatience, sensitivity, and sudden emotional reactions that don’t seem to match the moment. Instead of shaming myself for that, I’m trying to meet it with curiosity and grace.
Here’s a real example from my life.
Yesterday, my emotions were all over the place. I was having mood swings and I felt irritable, and honestly I didn’t like or recognize that version of myself (and neither did Greg haha) . I knew this was a normal part of the process, but it definitely didn’t feel good. I was fine for a bit, happy, laughing, making jokes; then a little while later I was upset, on the brink of tears, and frustrated. I was with my fiancé, and something small that was left a mess felt huge. It nearly brought me to tears with emotion and frustration. I knew it wasn’t reasonable or logical. I even verbalized it to myself, it only helped so much. I felt really bad about this version of myself even though I knew it was “normal” and to be expected. I turned to God a lot, asking him to forgive me and help me. I felt like I was on a roller coaster I didn’t get in line for.
It wasn’t all bad. I was able to laugh and smile, feel good sometimes, be productive, help with firewood, run errands, but the not pleasant feelings showed up in equal strength. That is what can be hard about days like these. You can have joy and laughter and productivity and still feel all over the place.
Greg was trying to help by making jokes, which normally would have helped, but not yesterday. The reality was that we were clashing a little. This doesn’t happen often, but like any relationship, it does happen sometimes. It wasn’t either of our faults, it was just the reality of the day. What I needed was space for me to reflect and regain myself. Greg knew it as well because he told me in no uncertain terms and told me to “Go take a nap!”
An area for me to grow is learning to step away and put physical distance between us when I’m having a day like that. Not because I don’t love him, and not because I don’t want closeness. Not because he’s driving me crazy, but because I might be driving the both of us crazy, and I need to regulate. Yesterday, I was hyper focused on chores and what I was doing, I forgot to eat. I got a headache and little things were bothering me. Well, everything did. What I needed was to eat something, take some Motrin, hydrate, and take a nap. What felt conflicting, is that I needed distance, but I deeply desired closeness. All I thought I wanted was to eat something warm and rest in the comfort of Greg’s arms. What I wanted and needed were at odds. When I finally took care of myself and rested, I came back over much better.
Sometimes in times like this, I need to go have quiet time with God. Sometimes I will go workout. Sometimes go outside, walk, etc. Sometimes go away and read, journal, draw.
I’m learning that even when I want closeness, sometimes the most loving thing I can do for both of us is to take a little space until I’m steady again. If I had forced closeness in that state (like I wanted), it would’ve made things worse for both of us.
I’m learning this too: days like this don’t mean something is “wrong” with me. They don’t mean I’m failing. They don’t mean I’m going backwards. These kinds of days are expected when you’re learning how to actually feel after years of pushing feelings away.
Feelings are real, but they aren’t truth
Something I keep in mind is that my feelings are real, but feelings aren’t truth. They are a reaction to something, but they aren’t truth.
I can acknowledge them. I can let them move and stir. I can address them. I can talk them out. I can cry. I can take a break. I can make room for what they’re trying to show me.
But I don’t live off of my feelings.
I don’t want my emotions to be the driver of my decisions, my relationships, or my reality. They matter, but they are not the whole story. Sometimes what I’m feeling is pointing to a real need. Sometimes it’s pointing to a trigger. Sometimes it’s just my nervous system catching up. Either way, I can honor what I feel without letting it define what is true.
Talking it out Instead of Internalizing:
Another thing that was important to realize is how beneficial it has been to talk things out. Sharing what’s in my mind and heart helps the people closest to me understand what’s going on beneath the surface. It gives them context. It allows them to support me better. And honestly, it helps them extend grace when I’m overly moody or emotional.
At the same time, I’m being careful and choosy about who I share with. The intimate details of my healing aren’t for everyone, and I’m learning to protect what’s sacred and tender in me. But I have found that sharing, with the right people, makes the emotional burden lighter. Sometimes just being listened to takes away some of the heaviness. It helps me feel less alone in what I’m feeling. It also helps the people who love me know how to be there for me, and sometimes it helps them relate too, or feel less alone in their own emotions.
Journaling is still a lifeline
I’m still journaling, and it’s been so helpful. I’m sticking to the same format in my journal entries I shared in my other grief article, because having a simple structure helps me stay grounded when my emotions are all over the place.
Some days I don’t cry while I’m writing. Sometimes the tears come earlier, or later, or randomly. But writing helps me acknowledge what’s real. It helps me name the weight of things. It helps me make room for truth without rushing myself through it.
Choosing to allow the feelings in
I don’t always like everything I feel. Some emotions are uncomfortable. Some feel messy. Some don’t fit the version of myself I wish I always was. But I’m committed to allowing them in anyway. Because ignoring them didn’t make them go away. It just made them louder later.
This season of grief isn’t neat or organized. It’s raw. It’s tiring. It’s freeing. It’s confusing. It’s honest. And for the first time, I’m not trying to rush through it or clean it up. I’m letting it be what it is.
If this resonates
If you’re in a season where you’re finally letting yourself feel after years of not being able to, you’re not doing it wrong if you’re tired. Grief takes energy. Feeling takes energy. Healing takes energy. Rest when you need to. Move when you need to. Cry when you need to. Talk when you can. You don’t have to share your story with everyone for it to matter. But you also don’t have to carry it completely alone.
Sometimes progress looks like simply staying present with what’s real.