To the one carrying too much this week,

Some days the grief isn’t loud.
It simply sinks.
Into your bones, your breath, your shoulders.
Into the spaces where your strength used to sit.

Maybe you woke up tired.
Maybe you stayed tired.
Maybe everything felt heavier than it should’ve; conversations, chores, even the small decisions like what to eat or whether you can face the world outside your front door.

This kind of weight is sneaky.
It doesn’t announce itself.
It just settles.
And you do your best to keep moving under it, even when every step feels like one too many.

If that’s you this week… slow, worn thin, dragging yourself through the days; I want you to know this: nothing is wrong with you.
You’re grieving.
Your body remembers what your mind can barely carry.

You’re not failing. You’re functioning under impossible load.

One true thing:
You’re allowed to move gently today. That isn’t weakness - it’s wisdom.

Quote: “Sometimes carrying on is the bravest thing you’ll ever do.”
- Unknown

Song:
“Holocene” -Bon Iver
(A quiet exhale. A reminder you’re still here, even in the smallness.)

A note from me:
If this feels familiar, the heaviness, the slowness, the quiet strain - you can always reply. You don’t have to be eloquent or tidy. I’ll read whatever you send, whenever you’re ready.

With softness,
- Kirsten