When we lose someone we love to suicide or substance use, it can feel as though the ground has been pulled out from beneath us. Many of us are left feeling unmoored — unsure of how to move forward, or if we even can. The shock can be overwhelming. The questions that circle in our minds — the endless whys — can be exhausting, offering no comfort or clarity. And just when we feel least equipped to handle anything, we’re faced with the truth that grief, especially this kind of grief, takes real work.

Therapist Marty Tousley puts it plainly:

“It’s called grief work because finding your way through grief is hard work. If you put it off, like a messy chore, it just sits there and waits for you.”

This kind of loss carries layers that many people simply don’t understand — guilt, anger, shame, regret, confusion. And then there’s the stigma, both from the outside world and sometimes from inside ourselves. Grief work means gently facing these layers, one at a time, at your own pace. It means allowing the pain to be real, without rushing yourself to “feel better.” It means remembering that you are not alone in carrying this weight.

So what does this kind of grief work look like, day to day?

For me — and maybe for you, too — it looks like saying your person’s name out loud, even when it hurts.. It’s crying when a song catches me off guard. It’s letting myself feel angry — at addiction, at mental illness, at how unfair it all is. It’s slowly learning how to forgive, both others and myself.

This work doesn’t erase the pain, and it’s not about “moving on.” It’s about learning how to live in a world that has changed forever — carrying both the ache of our person’s absence and the enduring love we still feel for them.

As we walk this path, it’s so important to tend to our own hearts, minds, and bodies. Self-care doesn’t have to be elaborate or time-consuming. Just a few moments of gentleness each day can make a difference. That might mean sitting in silence, taking a short walk, stretching, breathing deeply, or writing down a few thoughts. Maybe it’s listening to music, making art, spending time in the garden, or cooking something comforting. It also means setting boundaries, protecting your energy, and asking for support when you need it.

These small acts are not selfish — they are acts of survival, of healing, and of love for yourself.

Healing doesn’t mean forgetting or “getting over it.” It means finding a way to live with the love and the loss side by side — listening to what your grief is trying to tell you, and honoring it as you take each next step. One breath, one moment, one act of kindness toward yourself at a time.