If your grief feels like an exhausting tug-of-war, you're not grieving "wrong." The Dual Process Model (DPM) affirms that healthy mourning requires you to constantly move between two opposing needs: Loss-Orientation (confronting the pain of loss) and Restoration-Orientation (handling life changes and distraction). This oscillation is the healthy, active ingredient in grief. Understanding the DPM helps you stop the self-judgment and recognize that taking a break from the pain is necessary, not avoidant.

Society often tells you that healthy mourning means "moving on" and emotionally detaching from your loved one. This feels impossible and cruel. As a therapist, I introduce a healthier approach: Continuing Bonds. This concept affirms that your relationship doesn't end with death; it simply changes form. We explore why this idea is so powerful and how you can start practicing simple, loving rituals to keep your connection to your loved one an active, integrated part of your life.

The simple turn of the calendar page on New Year's can feel less like a fresh start and more like a cruel milestone. You may dread leaving your loved one further in the past. Your task is not to forget the past year, but to find a compassionate way to carry your loss into the future. Instead of high-pressure resolutions, we'll focus on setting grief-informed intentions and establishing practices that safely bring your loved one with you into the new year.

As the main holiday weekend approaches, you don't have to choose between ignoring the holiday or ignoring your grief. Instead, you can use the principles of Continuing Bonds to create simple, loving rituals that intentionally invite your loved one's memory into the gathering. This isn't about painful public performance; it's about providing a quiet, integrated space for them through memory candles, dedicated objects, or shared legacy dishes.

When you are grieving, the December holidays, whether Christmas, Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, can feel like walking through a minefield. The world demands joy, but your heart is heavy. This stark contrast hurts the most. You are not required to be happy, and you are not failing if a festive commercial brings tears. We’ll cover strategies for establishing boundaries, creating alternative structures, and finding radical permission to disengage from any activity that feels like too much.

Society often treats grief as a fixed timeline you must adhere to. But grief is as unique as a fingerprint, influenced by a complex web of factors, from your culture and personality, to the specific circumstances of the loss. This post explains why your experience is so distinct, why the outdated "stages of grief" are wrong, and how modern theory embraces the messy reality of your healing journey.

You survived a major milestone, and that is an accomplishment. The days following Thanksgiving often bring a quiet, unique kind of exhaustion: the post-holiday haze. Your body and mind are signaling that it’s time to rest and repair. We’ll cover how to embrace emotional downtime, reflect on what worked, and reset your boundaries now so you can gently navigate the intensity of the upcoming December holidays.

Thanksgiving is often presented as a day of perfect togetherness. But when you are grieving, the missing presence at the table can feel like an impossible hurdle. The greatest gift you can give yourself this holiday is the permission to be honest about your needs. You are not required to perform happiness for others. Your grief does not take a holiday, and you have permission to choose yourself. We’ll cover practical tips for creating emotional boundaries and opting in or out of the day on your own terms.

Grief is the most profound and exhausting work a person can do. Whether your loss stems from a difficult divorce, a life transition, or particularly painful and stigmatized circumstances, the feeling of being overwhelmed is universal. Deciding to start therapy is an act of courage. In the therapy room, you can expect a non-judgmental space where you set the pace, build safety, and work together to dismantle the harmful idea that you must carry this burden alone.