Grief Exhaustion: When Your Heart Is So Tired

Lately, I’ve been noticing a particular kind of tiredness in my own grief. It’s not just “I need a nap” tired. It’s the kind of exhaustion that settles into my bones and my brain, where even simple things feel like too much. Some days, answering a text, emptying the dishwasher, or deciding what to eat can feel like climbing a mountain.

I’ve learned that grief can flood the body with stress, and stress is exhausting. For me, that has looked like foggy thinking, forgetting small things, a heavy chest, and a body that feels heavier than it used to. I can sleep and still wake up tired. Knowing that grief can affect sleep, appetite, the immune system, and our energy has helped me understand that I’m not “lazy” or “failing” - my body is carrying a lot. If you’d like a gentle, concrete overview of how grief can show up physically, this article from Marie Curie talks about common symptoms like tightness in the chest, breathlessness, and deep fatigue in a very compassionate way: Physical symptoms of grief – Marie Curie.

When I’m in this kind of grief exhaustion, I try to move more gently with myself. Sometimes that means lowering the bar for the day: fewer tasks, more rest, softer expectations. It might look like a slow walk instead of a workout, toast instead of a full meal, or saying, “I can’t do this today,” and trusting that that is a wise response, not a character flaw. Little grounding practices - like a few slow breaths, stepping outside for fresh air, or wrapping up in a favorite blanket - can offer small sips of comfort when I don’t have a lot to give. There’s a piece from Grief Stories that describes this “grief fatigue” and the many kinds of rest we might need; you might like it if you want to explore this more: Grief, Exhaustion & Rest – Grief Stories.

If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself, I want you to know that I’m holding your tired heart with a lot of tenderness. You are not making this up. You are not alone in it. If your exhaustion feels scary or overwhelming, it can help to bring it to a doctor, a therapist, or a trusted grief support space and say, “This is where I am. I’m so tired.” You deserve care that meets you where you are, not where anyone thinks you “should” be by now.

If today all you can do is read this and take one gentle breath, that is enough. Truly.

When/if you’re ready, you can explore more of my grief support letters here:
→ Newsletter archive: https://thegrieftable.substack.com/archive

And a small collection of resources - therapists, books, and private groups - lives here if that would feel supportive:
→ Grief resources & support: https://linktr.ee/TheGriefTable

With love and gentle company,

Jamie