When Grief Lives in the Body
Grief is not just emotional.
It is physical.
It settles into muscles, disrupts sleep, alters digestion, tightens the chest, and exhausts the mind. For many of us, it shows up in ways we don’t immediately connect to loss.
Part of my life after losing my husband was navigating a wave of health challenges that, at first, felt unrelated to grief. But looking back, I can see the connection clearly.
In May of 2008, I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis, an autoimmune disease affecting the digestive tract. My doctor explained there is no known single cause for UC, but it often appears during or after prolonged stress.
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There was a season in my life when I believed I had to fix everything at once.
The grief.
The finances.
The house.
My health.
The future.
It all felt urgent — like if I didn’t hold it together immediately, everything would collapse.
After my husband died, I went into survival mode. I stayed busy. I tried to control what I could control. If I could just organize enough, plan enough, research enough, clean enough, fix enough… maybe I could outrun the ache. Maybe I could prevent the next hard thing.
But here’s what I’ve learned — slowly, and sometimes painfully:
You can’t do everything at once.
And you’re not meant to.
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Things that Support My Health
It wasn’t a single breakthrough.
It wasn’t one perfect decision.
It was consistent small choices.
After walking through my husband’s illness — and later navigating my own health challenges — I used to think health required intensity. A strict plan. A complete overhaul. A level of discipline that felt exhausting before it even began.
But over time, I’ve learned that healing is usually quieter than that.
It’s built in rhythms.
Small, faithful, daily rhythms.
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Ways I Lower My Stress
I used to think stress was unavoidable.
Part of adulthood.
Part of motherhood.
Part of widowhood.
Part of rebuilding.
Life felt heavy, so of course I felt stressed.
But over time, God helped me see something I hadn’t noticed before.
Some stress was inevitable.
But much of it was self-imposed.
Not intentionally. Not foolishly. Just habitually.
I had been living as though everything was urgent. Everything mattered equally. Everything required my immediate attention.
And that way of living was exhausting.
Slowly, I began building simple rhythms that lowered the noise — not by controlling life, but by creating margin.
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Ways I Steady My Mornings
There was a time when my mornings began in urgency.
My eyes would open and my mind would immediately start racing — responsibilities, worries, decisions, what-ifs. It felt like I was already behind before my feet even hit the floor.
But somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t want to live like that anymore.
Now I try to begin my mornings with intention.
Not perfectly.
Not rigidly.
But gently.
I don’t rush into my day anymore. I steady myself first.
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