You’d think taxes would just be a task—fill out the forms, submit the numbers, done. But when you’re grieving, something as “simple” as doing your taxes can feel like climbing a mountain barefoot, in a fog. That’s because grief isn’t just emotional, it’s neurological. Trauma, including the trauma of loss, affects the brain’s executive functioning and that’s the part that helps us plan, organize, initiate tasks, and follow through.
When someone is grieving, the brain slows that system down to protect us. That’s what “widow brain” really is—our memory becomes unreliable, focus goes away, decision-making gets harder, and simple steps feel overwhelming.
Some tasks carry more than just logistical weight. For example, taxes. Maybe your husband used to do them. Or maybe you did them together every year. Now it’s not just about paperwork—it’s a deeply emotional reminder of what’s missing. And when a task is both mentally and emotionally demanding, our brains often freeze. I’ve felt it myself (a million times over), trying to keep up with everything, while mentally juggling a hundred open file cabinets in your brain that never seem to close! I want to move forward. I want to connect, to handle life, to function like I used to. But sometimes, the system just shuts down.
For those who had any trauma or even ADHD/ADD before grief, it only amplifies the challenge. I have seen it in my children. Even if you never struggled with attention before, grief can mimic those symptoms—forgetfulness, disorganization, zoning out, and emotional overload. Add in menopause and shifting hormones, and it’s no wonder your brain feels like it’s misfiring!
You are not going crazy. You’re not broken. You’re not failing. You are. not lazy. Your brain is doing exactly what it’s wired to do in deep grief, it is protecting and surviving. It can take some time for the brain to find a new balance. New pathways. This is part of healing, and it does not mean something is wrong with you.
What you need right now is to be extremely gentle with yourself. Speak to yourself with compassion. If all you did today was take one small step, that’s enough. You are doing your very best and you are doing a beautiful job at it.
If you know a widow, please understand that unless you’ve walked this road, it’s hard to comprehend what she’s carrying. Please do not treat her like she’s fragile or incapable. She is not a child. She is not unfit to make good decisions. In fact, she is one of the strongest people you’ll ever meet. Yes, her brain is tired, her heart is heavy—but she is resilient, courageous, and rising every single day in ways the world may not see.
I work with widows, and I hear this over and over again—how misunderstood they feel, how much pressure they’re under to “move on” or “get back to themselves.” But what they need is grace. Presence. And understanding without conditions.
If you’re grieving, I want to remind you: you are not alone. You are healing. You are strong. And you are doing better than you know. One moment at a time, you are rebuilding a life and that’s nothing short of extraordinary!
