What if you carry the weight of grief without even realising it?
You may know that I’m in the process of writing my book. Today, I want to speak directly to you – my reader.
Who is my ideal reader? It’s you.
Yes, it’s you whose life once looked familiar, but now feels like a distant memory. It’s you carrying an invisible heaviness that lingers no matter how brightly the sun shines. It’s you who feels hollow after the people, the dreams, or the roles that once defined your life vanished. Maybe you no longer recognize the world around you – or even yourself.
You’re not alone. And maybe, just maybe, what you’re feeling is the weight of grief.
My readers are those who experienced events that changed their lives in ways they didn’t ask for. Those who are grieving without recognition – and I am one of them.
I lost my health. My sense of safety. My identity. And from that loss came a kind of wisdom I never wanted – but now offer back to you.
Read also ‘What Grievers Really Need: How to Support Others and Yourself Through Grief‘
You are not crazy – You are grieving
Perhaps your days are now filled with a quiet ache, your nights turned sleepless. You smile, hold it together, put on a brave face – all while something inside you aches for what once was. You might be confused, exhausted, anxious, or even feel guilty for not “bouncing back” fast enough.
But what if you’re not lazy, ungrateful, or weak? What if the heaviness you feel, the sadness you can’t name, the fog that clouds your thoughts – is the weight of grief?
Read also ‘Understanding Grief, Bereavement, and Mourning: What Is the Difference?‘
Grief wears many faces
We often associate grief with death, but the truth is, grief appears in many forms. You can grieve a person, the life you once lived, or a future you dreamed of. It may be a relationship that changed, a body that betrayed you, a home you had to leave behind or even a version of yourself that you can’t get back to.
And in all these silent losses, you carry the weight of grief – the kind that’s rarely acknowledged.
Maybe you haven’t been through an accident like me, but you’ve experienced a profound shift. Perhaps you never got to say goodbye. Maybe your child never had the chance to be born. Or maybe your loved ones are still alive, but emotionally gone. Maybe you are grieving your health, your sense of purpose, or even your faith. These are the kinds of losses we don’t talk about enough – but they matter. You matter.
Read also ‘Navigating Grief: What It Is and How It Shapes Our Emotions‘
The sculpture that says it all
There’s this sculpture, The Weight of Grief by Celeste Roberge. It captures what words often fail to — that overwhelming, suffocating heaviness so many of us silently carry. This piece, for me, speaks to the human experience of loss in its rawest form.
It shows that the weight of grief is not just emotional – it’s physical. It’s in your bones, in your breath, in the way your body moves through the day. And yet, we’re expected to carry on, to be grateful, to “look on the bright side.”
But forced gratitude doesn’t dissolve grief. A smile doesn’t erase pain.
Read also ‘When Will My Life Go Back to Normal Again, and Does Grief Ever Go Away?‘
Losses without caskets
Not all losses come with caskets, funerals, sympathy cards, or flowers. They come quietly – through a diagnosis, a betrayal, a phone call, a door closing behind someone who will never return.
These are the living losses – the silent, often invisible experiences that leave us aching. The kind that society doesn’t recognise as grief. The kind that makes us feel like we must justify our pain, apologise for it, or explain why we still feel broken months or even years later.
But I want you to hear this: the weight of grief doesn’t need permission. It doesn’t need a death certificate. If you’ve lost something that mattered to you – you are allowed to grieve it.
Read also ‘Grieving Lost Time, and How to Deal With It‘
This weight of grief is real
That ache in your chest, the brain fog, the tiredness that no sleep cures, being emotionally overwhelmed – all of it is valid. You may not even know how to describe what you’re feeling. But it is grief.
It’s grief for who you were. Grief for the life that made sense. Grief for the version of you that didn’t carry this weight.
You’re not losing your mind. You’re not “too sensitive.” Actually, you’re grieving – and the weight of grief is real. It changes your chemistry. And it alters how you move through the world. It deserves space. It deserves language. And most of all – it deserves compassion.
This is sacred ground
What if this moment, this struggle, this aching place – is sacred ground? And what if it’s part of the human condition, not a deviation from it? What if sitting with the sadness is braver than running from it?
You didn’t ask for this. None of us do. But this heartbreak, this emptiness, this unspoken sorrow – it is evidence that something once deeply mattered to you. And that is not weakness – that is love.
Read also ‘Coping With Grief: 10 Hard but Valuable Lessons of Loss‘
Why I’m writing this book
My book is for you.
For the broken-hearted, the overlooked, the ones grieving in silence. For those whose pain was minimized, whose losses were never named. And for the lonely, the misunderstood, the ones pretending they’re fine when inside they’re not.
It’s a gentle companion that is exploring the weight of grief – in all its forms. Not to offer quick fixes, but to help you feel less alone in your experience. To say the thing many of us are too scared to admit: “I’m grieving something I can’t even fully explain.”
If you’ve felt this too…
So, if you’ve ever felt like something was wrong with you for being stuck while the world moved on without you.
If you’ve ever judged yourself for still crying, still aching, still hoping, still carrying this heavy weight, this is for you.
If you’ve ever whispered to yourself, “Will I ever get back to who I used to be?” — I want you to know that grief doesn’t take us back. It invites us to become. To rebuild. To find meaning in what remains.
Let me walk with you through it. Let me remind you that you’re not broken beyond repair – you’re breaking free.
You’re not weak — you’re grieving.
And the weight of grief you carry? It’s valid. It’s real. And it deserves to be seen.
Thank you for being here.
Till the next blog post,
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This can be such a hard topic. Thank you for covering it!
Not an easy topic to talk about, or write about! Thank you for broaching it.
I’m definitely in a season of grief. I know this message is a blessing for so many of us.
Beautifully written! Great post xx
I totally agree that grief comes in various faces. In my opinion, we need to support the grieving person in any useful way possible.