Your Nervous System Is Grieving Too

You might think you’re doing okay. You’re getting through the day. Answering texts. Even smiling sometimes.

But your body remembers what your mind tries to carry quietly.

That pressure in your chest. The tension in your shoulders. The shallow breaths you didn’t even realize you were taking. The brain fog that never fully lifts.

That’s not weakness. That’s your nervous system grieving.

After you lose a child, your world doesn’t just emotionally shatter—your biology shifts too. Trauma isn’t just emotional. It’s physical. Grief doesn’t just live in your memories. It lives in your tissues. Your breath. Your sleep. Your gut. Your immune system.

And the hard part? Most people around you don’t talk about that part. They don’t realize your body is still bracing, even when your mind is trying to move forward.

So here’s the truth:

You are not lazy. You are not broken. You are not failing. You’re grieving. And your nervous system is doing the very best it can to keep you alive.

That buzzing feeling? That’s your sympathetic nervous system—still in fight or flight. That numbness?

That’s your dorsal vagal state—freeze mode. Protection. That exhaustion? That’s your body saying, please slow down.

This is not in your head. This is in your wiring.

And the good news? With the gentlest practices, you can begin to soften that internal grip. Not to erase the grief, but to give your body relief from carrying it alone.

Start by placing one hand on your heart and one on your belly.

Breathe in for four seconds. Hold for two. Breathe out slowly for six. Repeat.

Not to fix it. Just to be with yourself differently.

Because your grief isn’t just emotional. It’s embodied.

And the more we care for our nervous systems, the more room we create to actually feel held. To breathe again. To trust that, slowly, gently, we are still here.

Still healing. Still worthy. Still deeply human.

With breath and compassion,

Julie