Shock
Shock isn’t calm.
And it isn’t dramatic either.
It’s your body stepping in when something is too much to take in all at once.
When something overwhelming happens, your nervous system shifts into protection mode. Stress hormones surge. Blood flow changes. Your brain prioritises survival over meaning-making.
That’s why shock can feel like:
being strangely “okay”
moving through days on autopilot
forgetting words, dates, conversations
feeling detached from your body or life
not crying when you think you should
laughing at the wrong moment
feeling flat, foggy, or unreal
This isn’t denial.
And it isn’t avoidance.
It’s biology.
Your body is slowing everything down so you don’t have to absorb the full weight of what’s happened all at once. It creates distance - not to shut you out from reality, but to keep you intact.
Shock doesn’t mean you haven’t understood.
It means your body has understood first.
There’s no timeline for shock.
And there’s no “right” way for it to lift.
Often, when shock begins to fade, things can feel worse - not better - because sensation and emotion start to return. That doesn’t mean you’re going backwards. It means your system is allowing more in.
If you’re in shock:
you are not broken
you are not failing to grieve
you are not doing this wrong
You are surviving the first impact.
That is enough for now.