Grief is not a problem to be solved. It’s a natural, painful, deeply human response to loss. This page offers clear explanations, lived examples, and practical support — with no judgement and plenty of kindness.
If you feel foggy, overwhelmed, numb, angry, guilty — or okay and then suddenly not — you’re not broken; you’re grieving. Your rhythm is valid.
Grief has many shapes. Naming them helps normalise what you’re feeling and reduces the shame of thinking you’re “doing it wrong”.
Grieving before a death or major change (e.g. terminal illness or the slow decline of dementia). Relief later is common and human.
Everyday example: A carer watching their partner lose memories feels sorrow at each forgotten detail — even while their partner is still here.
After sudden or traumatic loss, pain can stay raw. Persistent yearning, avoiding reminders, or feeling life has stopped may need specialist support.
Everyday example: A parent avoids the accident route for years because the wound still feels fresh.
Grief that isn’t publicly recognised — miscarriage, pet bereavement, the death of an ex-partner, or a friendship ending.
Everyday example: After a miscarriage, “at least you can try again” feels invalidating and isolating.
Communities grieve together after disasters, wars, pandemics, or national events. It can stir older losses and also create solidarity.
Everyday example: During the pandemic, many grieved lost routines and milestones as well as people.
Beyond the person, you may lose routines, roles, finances, and identity. Waves can return months or years later.
Everyday example: After losing a spouse, someone also grieves Sunday rituals or being introduced as “a couple”.
Children grieve in bursts — cycling between tears and play. They revisit grief as they grow and understand more.
Everyday example: A 7-year-old cries at bedtime but seems fine in the morning; switching is normal processing.
Someone is alive but profoundly changed (addiction, severe mental illness, brain injury, advanced dementia).
Everyday example: “It feels like I’ve lost them twice.”
Grief is whole-body. The brain, nervous system, and relationships all shift at once.
“When my mum died, I thought I had to be strong and go back to normal fast. But normal had changed. A group told me: ‘Everyone’s rhythm is different.’ It didn’t fix the pain, but it let me breathe.”
Anxiety can bring restlessness and “what if” spirals; depression can bring emptiness and loss of motivation. These are overload, not weakness. If thoughts of self-harm appear or daily life becomes unmanageable, seek extra support.
Tiny routines: one anchor — tea by the window, two-minute stretch, water a plant.
Breathing: in for 4, out for 6 (2 mins). Long exhale signals “safe enough”.
Sleep & appetite: gentle wind-down, dim light, regular meals/snacks.
Memories: memory box or photo corner; tangible reminders matter.
Permission: tears, anger, laughter, rest — all valid waves of love.
Connection: one honest check-in; ask for a 10-minute call or a walk.
The information on this page is for general understanding and support. It is not a substitute for professional medical, psychological, or legal advice. If you feel unable to keep yourself safe or someone else is at risk, call 999 (UK) immediately. If you’re outside the UK, contact your local emergency number.