Coping with Grief and Insomnia

Hey there, and welcome to the funeral.com podcast. Let’s start with a moment we’ve all had: it’s 2 a.m., the world is asleep, and you’re wide awake staring at the ceiling, feeling like the quiet around you is somehow louder than any noise you’ve ever known. Sound familiar? This is grief insomnia.

Grief has a funny way of sneaking up on us when we least expect it. During the day, there are distractions—work, calls, errands. But at night? That’s when our minds and bodies confront what we’ve lost. And the thing is, grief isn’t just emotional. It’s physical. Your chest might feel tight. Your heart might race. You’re exhausted, but your nervous system is on high alert, scanning for a danger that isn’t even there. It’s like your body didn’t get the memo that the fight is over, and you’re left replaying memories, asking questions you can’t answer, or just… feeling this void that’s impossible to fill.

Anecdotally, I remember a friend sharing how, after losing her dog, she couldn’t sleep for weeks. Every night, she’d hear the phantom sound of paws on the floor—sounds that weren’t real but felt so vivid. She told me it was as if her mind couldn’t let go of the routine they’d shared, even though her body was begging for rest. And honestly, her story stuck with me because it highlights how grief doesn’t only take from the heart—it hijacks the body, too.

But let’s challenge this narrative for a second. Why is it that our culture tends to romanticize grief as this all-consuming, sleepless process? As if staying awake is some badge of honor or a testament to how much we cared? The truth is, not sleeping doesn’t make your love deeper or your memories stronger. It just makes everything harder to bear. Sleep is essential—it helps us regulate emotions, process memories, and rebuild after loss.

So, if you’re listening to this in the middle of the night, I want you to give yourself permission to rest—not because you’re forgetting, but because you’re human. It’s okay to put down the weight for a few hours. And in the next segment, we’ll explore why your body resists rest and how to gently guide it back toward calm.

Why Grief Disrupts Sleep: The Science of Stress and Safety

Alright, let’s talk about why sleep and grief often don’t get along. First off, did you know that grief triggers a whole-body stress response? It’s true. Even if your mind understands that your loved one is gone, your body might still be stuck in fight-or-flight mode, like it’s bracing for some unseen threat. This is your nervous system’s way of trying to protect you, even though there’s nothing left to fight or flee from. It’s a glitch in the system, if you will.

Now, here’s a scenario to think about. Imagine you’re trying to sleep, but your brain is replaying the last moment you spent with your loved one. It’s like a broken record, right? Or maybe you wake up at 4 a.m. to a sudden jolt of anxiety. You’re sweating, your heart’s racing, and you can’t figure out why. That’s grief-induced hypervigilance—your body still thinks it’s in the middle of an emergency.

Counterpoint time: Some people say, 'Just take a sleeping pill and be done with it.' And look, I get it—sometimes you just need a break. But here’s the thing: sleep medications aren’t a long-term solution. They might knock you out, but they don’t address the underlying turbulence in your nervous system. Plus, over-relying on them can actually backfire, leaving you more groggy and less emotionally resilient the next day.

So, what’s the alternative? It starts with understanding that your body needs to feel safe before it can rest. This might mean focusing on small rituals—breathing exercises, a warm cup of tea, or even just placing a comforting object near your bed, like a keepsake or photo. These aren’t quick fixes, but over time, they help retrain your body to associate nighttime with calm rather than chaos.

Practical Steps for Restful Nights During Grief

Okay, let’s get practical. If you’re struggling with grief insomnia, what can you actually *do* to make nights easier? First, let’s bust a myth: trying harder to sleep doesn’t work. In fact, the more you focus on 'I have to sleep,' the more you activate your stress response. It’s like trying to force a cat to come to you—it just runs further away.

Instead, aim for what I call 'rest-adjacent' activities. For example, if you’re lying there wide awake, get up. Yep, get out of bed, but keep the lights dim and do something calming—like reading a book you’ve already read or journaling out your thoughts. This can help your body shift gears without the pressure of 'must sleep now.'

Here’s a story to illustrate this. A listener once told me they started keeping a 'tomorrow list' by their bed. Whenever their mind started spiraling about all the things they needed to do—funeral arrangements, calls, paperwork—they’d jot it down and tell themselves, 'It’s captured. I don’t have to hold it all night.' It sounds simple, but they said it made a huge difference.

Now, let’s address the skeptics. Some people might think, 'Isn’t this just avoiding the grief?' And my answer is no—it’s about pacing yourself. Grief is a marathon, not a sprint. You’re allowed to take breaks, and those breaks make you stronger in the long run.

So tonight, think about one small thing you can do to ease into rest. Maybe it’s a warm shower, a lavender-scented candle, or soft music. These aren’t magic solutions, but they’re steps toward creating a space where rest feels possible.

Finding Comfort in Ritual and Connection

Finally, let’s talk about the role of ritual in grief and how it connects to sleep. Rituals—whether it’s lighting a candle, placing a keepsake on your nightstand, or saying a quiet prayer—can be incredibly grounding. They remind your brain that even though the relationship has changed, the bond is still there.

For instance, I recently heard from someone who wore a piece of cremation jewelry—a small locket with their loved one’s ashes. They said it wasn’t about the ashes themselves; it was about the feeling of carrying a piece of that connection with them, even into the hardest nights. It became part of their bedtime routine—putting the necklace on their bedside table, almost like saying, 'Goodnight, I love you.'

But let’s not forget, rituals aren’t one-size-fits-all. For some people, keeping ashes at home can feel comforting. For others, it can create anxiety—like one more thing to worry about. And that’s okay. If it feels like too much, consider options like keepsake urns, cremation jewelry, or even planning a future ceremony for scattering ashes. There’s no rush to decide everything at once.

The key takeaway here? Rituals are about creating moments of peace, not pressure. They won’t erase your grief, but they can soften its edges, especially during those quiet, sleepless hours.

Alright, that’s all for this episode. If you’re listening to this before bed, I hope you find even a little bit of calm tonight. Thanks for joining me, and as always, take care of yourself. We’ll catch you next time.