Getting through today

On the hardest days, lower the bar all the way to the floor. One thing that nourishes you. One thing that moves your body. One person who knows.

If you only do one of the three, that still counts. If you do none, tomorrow is another try.

For many people, dehydration can make grief feel worse — more tired, more anxious, more foggy. If it helps, keep a glass by the bed. Refill it when you pass.

When grief swells suddenly — at the supermarket, in the car, in the middle of the night — try this:

• Breathe in for four counts
• Hold for four
• Breathe out, slowly, for six
• Repeat three times

It doesn’t make the grief go away. It can tell your body it’s safe to feel it.

Grief can play havoc with sleep. Some people can’t stop sleeping. Others can’t fall asleep at all. Both are common.

• Keep your room cool, dark and screen-free
• Get morning sunlight on your face when you can
• Try not to lie awake fighting it — get up, sit somewhere soft, drink water
• A short walk in the late afternoon helps many people

Grief can make food taste like cardboard. It can make you forget to eat. It can also send you to the biscuit tin at midnight. None of this is failure.

• Eat what you can keep down — toast, soup, fruit, yoghurt
• Smaller meals more often, rather than three big ones
• Let people drop food off. They want to help.

You don’t need to exercise. Even moving a little can help. A walk to the letterbox. Five minutes in the garden. Stretching while the kettle boils. For many people, movement helps the body process grief.

“Let me know if you need anything” can be hard, because grief can make it almost impossible to know what you need. If it helps, try telling people specifically:

• “Could you bring dinner on Tuesday?”
• “Could you sit with me for an hour?”
• “Could you take the kids to the park on Saturday morning?”
• “Could you just text me — I don’t have to reply.”

“I can’t make it, but thank you for thinking of me” is a complete sentence. You owe no one a justification right now.

You may laugh again. Maybe sooner than you expect. The first laugh after a death can feel like betrayal — it isn’t. It’s your nervous system breathing. You are allowed to laugh. That is not betrayal.