The Hidden Grief Behind Burnout: Unpacking Complex Loss

Part 3: The Grief Underneath

Sometimes the exhaustion isn’t just burnout. The fog isn’t just depression. The stuck-ness isn’t just trauma.

Sometimes it’s grief.

But not always the kind we’re taught to recognize.

You don’t need a funeral to be grieving. You don’t need tears, or a clear-cut loss, or a tidy five-stage model. In fact, some of the deepest grief sits below the surface—muted, tangled, and dismissed because it doesn’t “count.”

Complex grief is often the invisible weight underneath burnout, shutdown, and the moment your coping tools stop working.

Let’s talk about that.

What Is Complex Grief?

Complex grief isn’t just about losing someone. It includes:

• Loss of identity (who you used to be, or hoped to become)

• Loss of safety (physical, emotional, or relational)

• Loss of stability (home, job, health, community)

• Loss of a future you imagined

• Loss that goes unacknowledged (estrangement, abuse, ambiguous relationships)

It's not linear, and it doesn't always make sense. You might feel nothing for months and then burst into tears while organizing your closet. You might feel angry, hollow, or unmotivated—and not realize it’s grief showing up in disguise.

How Grief Disguises Itself

Grief is a master of disguise. It can show up as:

• Apathy or disinterest

• Anxiety or over-control

• Procrastination or perfectionism

• Sudden exhaustion or irritation

• Feeling emotionally "flat" or detached

• Longing for something, but not knowing what

I’ve seen this with clients who left abusive relationships but missed the dream of what could’ve been. With people who never felt safe in childhood, grieving the love they never got. With helpers who are so burned out, they don’t realize they’re grieving the belief that they could save everyone.

I’ve felt it myself—quiet, sticky grief over past versions of me I didn’t get to be. Over futures that were never going to happen.

What Happens When Grief Isn’t Acknowledged

Unacknowledged grief doesn’t go away. It goes inward. It turns into fatigue, numbing, cynicism, and emotional shutdown. It blocks healing by occupying the space where mourning, meaning, and movement should go.

When grief is unseen, it becomes stuck energy. But when it’s seen—even just a little—it begins to soften.

How to Begin Tending the Grief

You don’t need to force grief open. You don’t even need to name it perfectly. You just need to make space for it to speak.

Here are a few gentle starting points:

Reflection Prompts:

What have I lost that no one sees?

What part of me is grieving something I never got?

Is there a version of my life I’ve had to let go of? What does it feel like to admit that?

Where in my body do I feel the ache of that loss?

What would I say to that loss if I knew it was listening?

A Soft Mantra:

“Just because it’s invisible doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

If You’re Feeling Numb Instead of Sad

That’s grief, too. Numbness is often your system’s way of protecting you from feeling it all at once. Grief moves in waves. Feeling “nothing” is part of the tide.

Let that numbness be honored—not poked or rushed. Trust that when safety and support are present, the grief will find its way forward.

You're Not Failing—You're Mourning

This isn't backsliding. It's not weakness. It's mourning.

You are not broken. You are grieving something important.
And that grief, once seen, can become a form of healing all its own.

Next Up: When “Self-Care” Becomes a Burden — Letting Go of the Fix-It Mindset