How I Found Healing After Losing Everything

Published by Linda James, Survivor of trauma, mental health |

Updated on September 10, 2024 | 🕐 6 min | 👁️ 73,121

I never knew how heavy grief could feel until I was carrying it every single day.

The kind of grief that wraps itself around your heart and won’t let go.

The kind that sits in your chest like a stone, making it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to do anything.

When I lost them, it felt like the world had shifted on its axis.

Like nothing would ever feel normal again.

People told me, “Time will heal you,” but every day that passed felt like another day further from the life I knew, from the person I used to be.

I woke up each morning to the deafening silence of their absence.

The days stretched on, endless and empty.

The nights were the worst—the loneliness would settle in, and I’d lie awake for hours, replaying memories, aching for the comfort of their presence.

I tried everything to cope.

Therapy, support groups, self-help books—each offering comfort for a moment, but the relief never lasted.

I kept waiting for the day when it would stop hurting so much, when I’d wake up and not feel like I’d been hollowed out.

But that day never seemed to come.

Grief felt like a weight I would have to carry forever.

I felt broken in a way that I thought could never be repaired.

The world kept moving around me, but I was stuck in place, paralyzed by the pain.

I couldn’t focus, couldn’t work, couldn’t even find joy in the things I used to love.

The emptiness was overwhelming, and I began to wonder if I would ever feel whole again.

Then, one day, a friend reached out.

She had lost someone, too, and she told me about a program that had helped her.

It was called the Neurotoned Coping With Grief And Loss Program.

I was skeptical.

I’d tried so many things already—what difference could another program make?

But as she spoke, I could hear something in her voice that I hadn’t heard before—a calm, a sense of peace.

She explained that this wasn’t like anything else I had tried.

This program was designed specifically for people going through grief, for people whose pain was stuck not just in their hearts, but in their bodies.

It wasn’t about “getting over” loss, or moving on.

It was about learning to live with it in a way that didn’t destroy you.

She told me the program used gentle, body-based practices to help release the pain that was trapped inside, to calm the nervous system that had been in overdrive since the moment I got the news.

I decided to give it a try, not because I believed it would work, but because I had nothing left to lose.

The first session was quiet, almost too simple.

It began with just breathing—deep, conscious breaths that I hadn’t taken in what felt like forever.

I felt my body resisting at first, so used to holding everything in, to bracing against the pain.

But slowly, I began to relax.

I followed the program, step by step, at my own pace, in my own time.

Some days it was just a few minutes; other days, I stayed with the exercises longer, letting the emotions come up, letting the tears fall.

One day, the program guided me to a practice called “Heartfelt Meditation.”

I was supposed to sit quietly and just feel whatever came up.

At first, I felt nothing but the familiar ache, the emptiness.

But as I sat there, breathing deeply, I started to feel warmth in my chest.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there—a flicker of something that wasn’t just pain.

I realized it was love.

Love for the one I had lost, love that had been buried under all the grief.

I cried, but for the first time, they were healing tears, not tears of despair.

And that was just the beginning.

The program led me through practices that helped me reconnect with myself in ways I hadn’t imagined.

Exercises to ground myself when I felt overwhelmed, to release the tension that had built up in my body, to feel safe in my own skin again.

Gradually, the heaviness started to lift.

I found moments of peace where there had been none.

I began to smile, to laugh, even—something I hadn’t done in what felt like forever.

I could feel the tightness in my chest loosening, the weight on my heart becoming lighter.

The days weren’t as empty anymore.

I started finding joy in little things—a sunrise, a song, a memory that made me smile instead of cry.

One day, I was able to go through their belongings, something I had been avoiding for months.

I expected to be overwhelmed with sorrow, but instead, I felt gratitude for the time we had together, for the love that was still very much alive within me.

The Neurotoned Program didn’t take away my grief; it helped me learn to live with it, to carry it differently.

It helped me find a way to honor my loss without being consumed by it.

If you’re struggling with grief, if the weight feels unbearable, I want you to know there is hope.

You don’t have to carry this alone, and you don’t have to do it the hard way.

The Neurotoned Program for Grief & Loss is designed to support you, gently, every step of the way.

Right now, it’s available to you at a special offer, so you can take that first step toward healing.

It won’t take away the love or the memories, but it can help you find peace in the pain.

Start your journey today with the Neurotoned Program for Grief & Loss.

Click the link below to learn more and begin the path to a life where grief doesn’t have to define you.

Heal Trauma Without Reliving The Past - Neurotoned