Grief is one of the most profound emotions we experience, and yet it’s often so difficult to put into words. That’s why the “grief ball in a box” analogy resonates with so many—it paints a picture of what it’s like to live with loss, how the pain evolves, and why it can still surprise us even years later. Whether you’ve recently lost someone or you’ve been carrying grief for a long time, this analogy offers a relatable way to understand your experience and find your footing again.
In my own story of navigating the unimaginable pain of losing three children and a husband, I’ve found this analogy both comforting and accurate. Professionally, as a psychiatric nurse practitioner, I’ve also seen how understanding grief in this way can help others process their loss and begin to heal. Grief may be heavy, but it doesn’t have to define you. Let’s explore this analogy together and what it can teach us about coping with grief and moving forward while honoring what we’ve lost.
What Is the Grief Ball in a Box Analogy?
The “grief ball in a box” analogy helps explain why grief can feel so all-consuming at first and how it changes over time. Imagine a box with a pain button on one side. Inside the box is a ball, representing your grief.
When you first experience a loss, the ball is enormous, filling nearly the entire box. With every movement, every memory, and every reminder, it hits the pain button. The ache feels constant, like there’s no space for anything else. But over time, as you process your grief, the ball begins to shrink.
It doesn’t go away completely. Instead, it bounces around the box more freely. Occasionally, it will still hit the pain button, often when you least expect it. A song, a smell, or a date on the calendar can send that ball crashing into the button, reigniting the pain. But as the ball gets smaller, those moments become less frequent, even though the intensity of the pain may remain the same.
This analogy captures the unpredictable nature of grief, reminding us that while the pain may never fully disappear, we can learn to live with it.
The Ball Represents Your Grief
Grief is deeply personal, and the ball in the box symbolizes just how unique each person’s experience is. For some, the ball may feel jagged, representing unresolved trauma or difficult memories tied to the loss. For others, it might be smoother, reflecting a relationship filled with love and peace.
When I lost my husband Dundy, the ball felt enormous, heavy, and sharp. His diagnosis of DRPLA, a progressive and ultimately terminal condition, meant years of grief—watching him decline while trying everything I could to save him. Naturally, the weight of the ball after his death was suffocating, as often the pain of losing a husband is. It felt like it would never shrink.
But over time, as I allowed myself to process the grief through journaling, therapy, and moments of controlled grief, the ball began to change. It’s still there, always a part of me, but it doesn’t dominate my life the way it once did.
The Pain Button and How Grief Hurts
The pain button represents those moments when grief becomes all-consuming. When the ball hits the button, the pain can feel as fresh and overwhelming as the day you first experienced the loss.
Maybe it’s triggered by something as small as finding an old photograph or hearing a song that reminds you of your loved one. These moments can feel disorienting, making you wonder, Why does it still hurt this much? But this is simply the ball doing what it does; it bounces, and sometimes it hits the button.
Understanding this dynamic can be freeing. It reminds us that these waves of grief aren’t a sign of failure or weakness, they’re a natural part of the process. Just as the pain button is always there, so too is your capacity to navigate it.
Why the Ball Feels So Big at First
In the early days of grief, it feels impossible to escape the ball’s weight. It dominates your life, hitting the pain button constantly. For me, after the loss of my daughter Miah, the ball felt like it consumed every inch of the box. Waking up each morning was a struggle, and even simple tasks felt insurmountable.
This is the nature of grief: it’s all-encompassing at first. But it’s important to remember that this stage, as overwhelming as it is, won’t last forever. The ball will shrink, even if it’s hard to imagine right now. By acknowledging and honoring your grief, you create space for healing to begin.
How the Ball Changes Over Time
Grief evolves, not because we forget, but because we grow around it. In the next sections, we’ll explore how the ball shrinks, why it still surprises us, and how acceptance doesn’t mean letting go but learning to live with the ball in the box.
The Ball Shrinks but Never Disappears
Over time, the ball gets smaller. It doesn’t happen overnight, nor does it happen without effort. Processing grief is an active journey: allowing yourself to feel the pain, honor the memories, and find meaning in your loss.
Grief can feel all-encompassing, like a weight pressing down relentlessly. In those early days, it can seem as though the ball will never shrink, as though its presence will always dominate your every moment. But gradually, through intentional grieving, you begin to notice a shift.
The ball feels lighter, though it never disappears. It doesn’t need to. The goal isn’t to erase your grief but to let life and love grow around it, allowing room for hope and healing to take root.
Random Bounces: Why Pain Can Still Surprise You
Even when the ball shrinks, its bounces can catch you off guard. A seemingly ordinary day might bring an unexpected collision with the pain button, leaving you breathless.
This happened to me years after my son Reggie passed. While organizing family photos, I stumbled across a picture of him from when he was healthy, laughing with his siblings. In that instant, the ball slammed into the pain button, and it felt like I had been transported back to the moment of his diagnosis. Grief has a way of doing that—sneaking up on you when you least expect it.
These random bounces are normal. They don’t mean you’re back at square one; they’re just part of living with the grief ball in your box. Understanding this can help you approach those moments with compassion rather than judgment.
Acceptance: Living with the Ball in the Box
Acceptance means learning to live with the ball in the box, to carry your grief in a way that allows you to keep moving forward.
After the loss of my daughter Miah, I wrestled with what acceptance really meant. Did it mean I was okay with her being gone? Of course not. But over time, I’ve learned that acceptance means making space for the pain while also making space for joy. It’s about letting the ball bounce without letting it stop you from living.
Living with the ball in the box is a balancing act. Some days, the ball will feel heavier. Other days, you might not even notice it’s there. The key is to give yourself grace, recognizing that healing isn’t about eliminating the ball but about finding ways to grow around it.
Managing the Ball: Practical Tips for Coping with Grief
Understanding the grief ball in a box is just the beginning. In the next sections, we’ll explore practical strategies for managing the ball, from journaling to self-care, so you can navigate your grief with intention and resilience. And remember, if you feel like your grief is too heavy to carry alone, therapy can be a valuable resource to help you find your way forward.
Controlled Grief: Giving the Ball Time to Bounce
Grief is relentless. It demands to be felt, often at the most inconvenient moments. But what if you could choose when to engage with it? That’s the idea behind controlled grief: creating space in your life where you can intentionally sit with your pain, allowing the grief ball to bounce freely without overwhelming every moment.
After my son Reggie passed, controlled grief became my lifeline. In the first year, I found myself drowning in the heaviness of loss. The grief ball was everywhere: interrupting my work, my interactions, and even the simplest joys. I realized that I needed to create boundaries, not for the grief itself, but for when I would allow it to take the stage.
Once a week, I carved out time to immerse myself fully in my grief. I’d pull out Reggie’s favorite blanket, listen to the songs he loved, and let the tears flow. In those moments, the grief was all-encompassing, but it didn’t own the rest of my week. This practice gave me permission to focus on my other children, my work, and even myself, without feeling like I was betraying Reggie’s memory.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed by grief, start small. Set aside 15 minutes to sit with your pain. Light a candle, write a letter to your loved one, or simply sit with their memory. Over time, these moments become a safe container for your emotions, giving you the strength to face the rest of your day.
If you’d like to learn more about controlled grief, explore our free grief course, Grieve with Purpose. I created this course to help others find meaningful ways to navigate their grief while honoring their loved ones.
Journaling: Let the Ball Move Freely on Paper
Grief often feels chaotic, like an untamed storm of emotions that you can’t fully articulate. Journaling provides a way to organize this chaos, allowing the grief ball to move freely in a safe space—your paper. The act of writing slows your thoughts, offering clarity and a chance to reflect on your feelings without judgment.
When I was grieving Miah’s death, journaling became a sacred practice. I wasn’t trying to write perfectly or make sense of everything; I was simply letting my emotions spill out. Some days, I wrote letters to her, sharing my hopes, regrets, and how much I missed her. Other times, I vented my frustrations—at life, at the injustice of her passing, even at God. I share more about these raw, intimate moments in I’m Right Here, Mama, my documentary on navigating loss, if you’re looking for ways to connect with and process your own grief.
Journaling allows you to pour out what feels too heavy to carry. You don’t need a plan or a specific prompt. Start with whatever comes to mind: “Today, the grief feels like…” or “I keep thinking about…” As you write, you may notice patterns and triggers that bring the ball to the surface or moments that offer you relief.
If the blank page feels intimidating, guided prompts can help. Try questions like:
“What memory of my loved one brings me comfort today?”
“What does my grief feel like in my body right now?”
“What would I say to my loved one if I could speak to them today?”
This practice allows the grief ball a place to bounce freely, away from the pressure of your daily life. And when the words won’t come, that’s okay too. Sometimes, simply holding the journal or writing a single sentence is enough.
Over time, your journal becomes a testament to your journey, a raw, unfiltered reflection of your healing. It’s a space where you can honor your grief without being consumed by it.
Self-Care: When the Ball Feels Overwhelming
Grief is physically and emotionally exhausting. It’s no wonder it’s often described as a weight: a heaviness that presses down on your chest or sits in your gut. When the grief ball feels like too much to bear, self-care becomes challenging, but truly essential to healing.
After losing Reggie, I learned how grief manifests in the body. I experienced chest tightness, fatigue, and an almost constant sense of being unwell. It wasn’t until I prioritized self-care that I realized how deeply grief had taken hold of my physical health.
Self-care starts with the basics:
Sleep: Grief disrupts sleep patterns, making it hard to fall or stay asleep. Give yourself permission to rest when you can, and don’t hesitate to seek medical support if needed.
Nutrition: Grief can steal your appetite or lead to emotional eating. Focus on nourishing meals, even if they’re small—your body needs fuel to heal.
Movement: Gentle movement, like yoga or a walk outside, can help release some of the physical tension grief creates.
But self-care goes beyond physical needs. For me, this meant allowing myself time to sit in the sun, to cry when I needed to, and to engage in activities that brought small sparks of joy, like gardening or reading.
It’s easy to feel guilty for taking care of yourself when you’re grieving, as if it diminishes the love you feel for the person you lost. But when the grief ball feels overwhelming, self-care gives you the tools to keep going. It doesn’t erase the pain, but it reminds you that you’re worth caring for, even in the midst of heartache.
If you’d like to explore more resources to help you in your journey of healing through grief and loss, click here.
Moving Forward While Honoring Your Loss
Grief changes you. It reshapes your heart, your perspective, and the way you move through the world. But it doesn’t have to define you. Moving forward means finding ways to carry their memory with you as you create space for your own healing.
Creating Space for Grief
Grief can feel all-encompassing, like it’s always waiting to bubble up at the most unexpected times. That’s why intentionally creating space for your grief can be transformative. Practices like controlled grief that help you balance the intensity of loss by dedicating specific moments to sit with your emotions.
What could creating space look like for you? Maybe it’s setting aside an hour each week to journal, visiting a place that reminds you of them, or lighting a candle and allowing yourself to simply feel. These rituals can become acts of love and reflection, moments where the grief ball is allowed to bounce freely without overwhelming every corner of your life.
Honoring Memories
Grief is simply love that has nowhere to go. Finding ways to honor your loved one’s memory can transform the weight of grief into something deeply meaningful. Small acts like planting a garden in their name, crafting a memory book, or performing a simple gesture they would have appreciated allow their legacy to live on.
These acts of remembrance don’t erase the pain but give it a purpose. They help you transform sorrow into something healing, creating a bridge between the love you feel and the life you’re still living.
Healing with the Grief Ball
Healing doesn’t make the grief ball vanish, you simply learn to live alongside it. The ball may shrink over time, but its presence remains a testament to the depth of your love. This journey is personal, but you don’t have to navigate it alone. I invite you to a space that I’ve created to help untangle the complex layers of grief and its many faces: trauma, spiritual conflict, or feelings of anger intertwined with your loss. Through compassionate guidance and practical tools, the Grief Intensive offers a controlled space to carry the grief ball with strength and intention, empowering you to honor your loved one while finding your way forward.
If you’re ready to take the next step in your healing journey, the Grief Intensive is here for you so that you too can grieve with purpose, love, and resilience.