How Will I Ever Get Through This?

When life changes in an instant, overwhelm can make it feel impossible to imagine surviving.

While out walking recently, I found myself reflecting on how many times in my life I felt certain I wouldn't survive. Those thoughts were prompted by a new book I'd been reading by grief researcher Dr. Lucy Hone, How Will I Ever Get Through This? As I closed the book, I realized I'd asked myself that same question at many different points in my own life.

When my son died, I was certain I couldn't survive the enormity of that grief. For me, nothing compared to that kind of devastation. But it wasn't the first or last time life would leave me wondering, How will I ever get through this?

There have been other heartbreaks, losses, and disappointments along the way, each carrying its own kind of devastation. As I reflected on those moments, I remembered what it felt like to be utterly overwhelmed.

When Grief Changes How Life Feels

I think that's something many people misunderstand about profound loss. Whether you've lost a spouse, experienced a miscarriage after months of dreaming about the child you were carrying, watched your home burn to the ground, received a life-changing diagnosis, ended a marriage you never imagined would end, or said goodbye to someone or something you deeply loved, there is often a period of time when the grief feels larger than anything you can imagine surviving.

In those early days, the landscape you've known has changed. Along with the obvious loss come countless smaller losses that quietly unfold alongside it.

It isn't simply that something important has been taken from you. It's that the life you expected to continue has been interrupted, and your entire system is trying to make sense of a world that no longer feels predictable or safe.

When Tomorrow Feels Impossible

When we're overwhelmed like this, our minds naturally begin projecting ahead. We wonder how we'll survive the funeral, the holidays, next week, or a future we never imagined having to face.

Yet when we're overwhelmed today, we're trying to answer tomorrow's questions before we've even lived them.

One of the things I've come to appreciate over the years is that our emotional experience is constantly shifting. In the immediate aftermath of a devastating loss, the waves of grief can feel relentless. Then, almost without warning, we may wake up one morning and feel like ourselves again, before remembering what has happened.

That ebb and flow isn't a sign we're grieving incorrectly. It's simply part of how our system survives what initially feels impossible to carry.

Learning to Ride the Waves

The goal during these seasons isn't to turn down the volume on heartbreak. Heartbreak deserves to be heartbreaking. We don't heal by convincing ourselves the loss didn't matter.

Instead, we slowly learn to ride the waves of overwhelm.

At first, that may mean getting through the next few minutes. Then the next fifteen, and longer stretches, until you notice you've made it through a whole day. A week. The waves begin to ebb and flow rather than remaining at their initial overwhelming intensity all the time.

Having a witness doesn't remove the pain, but there's something healing about having someone sit beside you while the landscape of your life is changing. Someone who isn't trying to rush you through your grief, but who can help you find enough footing to ride the next wave.

If today feels impossible, you don't need to answer how you'll survive next month or even next week.

You Don't Have to Carry It Alone

There are seasons when the grief becomes too great to carry alone. I use an approach called Lifespan Integration, which works directly with the nervous system, not just the mind, so the support goes deeper than talking alone.

Learn more about grief therapy and how I can support you.

If those waves feel larger than what you can carry on your own, I invite you to reach out. Together we'll decide whether I'm the right fit for what you need during this season.

With care,
Jacquelyn

Written by Jacquelyn Baker
Space for Grief — Renton, WA
In-person & online therapy across Washington