To the one moving through the quiet this week,

Some days the grief doesn’t roar or ache or overwhelm.
Some days… it goes strangely still.
No tears. No spark. No emotional weather at all.

And that stillness can feel wrong.
Like you’ve misplaced something important.
Like you should be feeling more, doing more, being more human than whatever this blankness is.

But numbness isn’t the absence of grief.
It’s what happens when your heart has carried too much for too long.
It’s your body taking the controls for a minute, saying,
Enough. We’ll feel again when it’s safe.

Maybe you’ve caught yourself going through the motions this week.

Talking, nodding, working; all while feeling nothing inside.

Maybe you’re wondering why the world feels so far away, like you’re watching yourself from across the room.

If that’s you; flat, foggy, disconnected - I want you to know this:
you’re not broken.
This is grief doing its quiet work.
This is a nervous system trying to protect what’s left of your strength.

One true thing:

A quiet heart is still a grieving heart. Numbness is not failure - it’s survival.

Quote:
“Sometimes the most painful thing is feeling nothing at all.”
- Unknown

Song:

“Motion Picture Soundtrack” - Radiohead
(A hollow, tender track for the days when you feel far from yourself.)

A note from me:

If this flatness is sitting on you like a heavy, invisible coat - you can reply.
You don’t need to explain it perfectly. You don’t need to justify it.
I’ll walk with you through the quiet as well as the storms.

With softness,
- Kirsten