Oh Grief, I Stand on Guard for Thee
I'm always ready. Even when it's to my own detriment.
My therapist asked me, “How are you feeling right now?”
“I feel a complete sense of calm. It’s like my brain has gone dark and there’s no barrier between my brain and my body?”
“What’s that like for you?”, he asked.
I blurted out, “I feel unready. Unready to face a threat. Like I can’t protect myself or others in this state.”
And in that moment, the lightbulb that had been dark for more than a decade, turned on.
It’s quite a thing to realize I’ve been in a state of hyper-vigilance for the fifteen years since my wife killed herself.
It shows up for me as a constant drive to take on more. To say yes to things I’d be better off saying no to. To beat the hell out myself for never doing enough.
It’s almost impossible to turn my brain off at times. Rest is complacency and complacency leads to disaster.
If I control more variables and have more irons in the fire I’ll prevent catastrophe from happening. Or so the fear-driven narrative in my head tells me (too convincingly).
I know what I’m doing won’t work. If it did, my daughter would still be alive.
I didn’t realize any of this until I started working with a Somatic Experiencing practitioner. He helped me tap into a deep sense of calm and peace I didn’t know was possible. Only then did I recognize how far from that state I usually lived. I had to experience the calm before I could even see the chaos.
It’s really helping me, but it can be so damn hard. Dropping my focus from my inside my head can feel mighty uncomfortable. it feels like letting go of a sense of control I’ve become addicted to. Even though I know that control is an illusion.
But I’m here for it and I’ll keep doing the work.
Because I’m still alive and I want to do my best to honour Cindy and Chloe’s lives and deaths.
So I’ll keep writing about grief for men, and the people who love them.
And if you’ve lost someone you love dearly, I wish you only peace and healing.
Living in a constant state of hypervigilance taught me something most men don’t want to admit: grief rewires you in ways you can’t simply outwork, outrun, or out-control.
We think saying yes to everything, keeping busy, or trying to manage every variable will keep us safe. But grief doesn’t play by those rules.
That’s why I put together this free guide: 10 Hard Truths Every Man Needs to Hear About Grief.
If you’re a grieving man, or love a man who is, this guide will give you the straight, unvarnished truths no one else is saying out loud.



Jason, it's so important you're writing to men. (But I'll read it too - there's value for everyone.)
I can see how a tragedy ... followed by a tragedy ... would lead you, or anyone, to become hypervigilant; how could it not?
The same applies to folks who have survived abuse (trust me), but I'm certain that the stress you describe, here and throughout your Substack page, is far more intense than anything I've been through. You have a lot of courage. Keep going.