Does Working in the Grief Space
Get Depressing?
Sometimes it does. Here's the honest answer.
Sometimes it does.
I tend to be stoic. Whether that is how I am wired or the result of spending much of my career in crisis communication, I am very good at compartmentalizing. Possibly too good.
I can sit with heavy stories, hold steady, say the right things, and keep moving. What I am less good at is letting the sadness land on me. I often need an external nudge — a movie that sneaks up on me, or a sad comic strip that cracks something open just enough to let the release happen.
That part can be heavy.
But the work itself? The mission? That does not feel depressing to me at all.
Why This Work Does Not Weigh Me Down
I want to help people.
Grief is awful. It is disorienting, isolating, and wildly misunderstood. And yet so few places talk about it in a way that feels relatable, honest, or even occasionally funny.
I believe gallows humor is not only allowed. It is often necessary.
Laughter does not cancel grief. It sits right next to it. Sometimes it is the only way to breathe in the middle of the pain.
At the same time, allowing yourself to be deeply sad — and temporarily incapable of doing much — can also be helpful, in small doses. Grief needs room to move. Suppressing it entirely does not make it disappear. It just makes it louder later.
Grief Is Not Just About Death
While my focus here is mostly on grief related to death and dying, we grieve many things.
Loss of relationship
Friendships ending
Loss of stability
Getting fired or laid off
Loss of direction
Personal or professional setbacks
Loss of expectation
The life you thought you would have by now
And something that comes up more and more for me lately is boundary setting.
When you say yes to things you do not actually want to do — over and over again — you begin to grieve a part of yourself. A quieter grief, but a real one.
- Your time.
- Your energy.
- Your sense of agency.
That slow erosion adds up.
Why I Wrote The Power of No
I wrote The Power of No after a fight with my beloved sister.
She is incredibly assertive and has absolutely no trouble saying no to anyone. I, on the other hand, am much more likely to say yes just to keep the peace, keep things moving, or avoid disappointing someone.
After that argument, it occurred to me that a lot of people are more like me than not. They say yes too often — not because they want to, but because it feels safer than saying no.
Maybe you worry people will not like you if you set boundaries.
- Maybe even people who love you question you, guilt you, or push back when you finally say no.
- Maybe saying yes has become so automatic you barely notice the cost anymore.
But here is the thing.
Genuine people want your yeses to be real. Not forced. Not resentful. Not extracted.
Boundaries Are Not Selfish
As human beings — unless you are a sociopath — you will sometimes do things you do not want to do out of love. That is part of being connected to other people.
But if you feel consistently taken for granted, you start grieving yourself.
And that grief matters too.
Setting boundaries is not about becoming cold or uncaring. It is about protecting the parts of you that make connection possible in the first place.
- Set boundaries.
- Stick with them.
You may lose a few things along the way.
But you will get something better back.
Yourself.
Michelle Tompkins
Michelle is the author of the Holding Space series, including The Power of No. She has spent more than a decade helping people navigate grief, loss, and the quieter erosions that don't always get named. She believes honest words — even imperfect ones — matter, and that boundaries are an act of love, not selfishness.
Grief is hard enough without carrying it alone.
Whether you're looking for words to express what you're feeling, resources to share with someone you love, or support writing something that matters — you're in the right place.