02/18/2026
https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1ACZJ9ZVVL/?mibextid=wwXIfr
The dishes have been sitting there for three days.
The laundry is piling up. The emails are unanswered. The calls are unreturned. The things that used to take you twenty minutes now feel like climbing a mountain.
And you're starting to wonder what's wrong with you.
Nothing is wrong with you.
You're not lazy. You're not falling apart. You're not weak or unmotivated or losing your mind.
You're grieving.
And grief is the most exhausting thing a human being can experience.
It takes everything you have just to get out of bed some days. Just to shower. Just to eat something. Just to answer one text without feeling completely depleted.
People don't understand that. They see you not keeping up and they think you're not trying. They think if you just pushed yourself a little harder, got into a routine, stayed busy—you'd be fine.
But they don't know what it feels like to carry this weight.
To wake up every morning already exhausted before the day even starts. To spend so much energy just holding yourself together that there's nothing left for anything else.
Grief is a full-time job. And nobody pays you for it. Nobody gives you time off for it. Nobody sees the work you're doing just to survive it.
But I see you.
I see how hard you're working just to stay above water. I see the effort it takes just to get dressed. I see you showing up even when every part of you wants to disappear. I see you getting through a day without falling apart.
That's not laziness. That's grief.
And grief doesn't care about your to-do list. It doesn't care about your deadlines or your responsibilities or the expectations other people have of you.
It just shows up. Heavy and relentless. And demands everything you have.
So, give yourself grace. Stop measuring yourself against who you were before. Stop comparing your grief-self to your before-self.
That person existed before loss rewrote everything. Before the weight settled in. Before you knew what this kind of pain felt like.
You're doing the best you can. And right now, your best looks different than it used to.
And that's okay.
The dishes can wait. The emails can wait. The laundry can wait.
You're not lazy. You're just trying to survive the unsurvivable.
Written by: Aimee Suyko - In Their Footsteps