The First Year of Grief

read time 5 minutes

Hey Man is a weekly newsletter redefining men’s mental health by sharing personal stories, research-backed insights, and practical tools to foster vulnerability, connection, and support.

In this Newsletter:

• February carries a weight I’ve learned to hold rather than fight. It’s my brother’s birthday month—a time when grief doesn’t just visit, it lingers.

• Losing a child or sibling to suicide leaves a wound that never fully heals—but how do we support the ones who are still here, especially when silence feels safer than speaking?

• In this newsletter, I’m sharing the mindsets and tools that have helped me navigate this grief—a guide to leaning in, finding strength in vulnerability, and supporting those who are still here.

The First Year of Grief: A Guide for Those Left Behind

On March 28, 2022 my brother passed away. The following week I did not leave my house and I barely left my bed. I cried a lot, but mostly I was avoiding life. I was avoiding other’s crying, I was avoiding anything painful or emotional, I was avoiding the reality that my brother was gone.

A month later, I forced myself back to school, clinging to structure as a lifeline. I didn’t want to fall behind and I wanted a distraction from the cloud of depression that hung over my house. I don’t remember what I learned or what I did the rest of that semester, but I was back in my disoriented life.

Over the next few months, I continued seeking distractions. Relationships became unbearable. The question, “how can I support you?” burned my ears because I had no clue what I needed. I just wanted my brother back.

My low point was when I looked in the mirror one night after finishing an entire bottle of wine by myself in my room. The girl I had been dating at the time broke up with me and I hadn’t worked out since March. I looked in the mirror and saw a sad, unhealthy person. Grief had hollowed me out. Days blurred together, and the only thing I was actively doing was avoiding feeling anything at all.

I would be lying if I said I picked myself up by my bootstraps and turned my life around. Healing wasn’t a choice I made overnight. It felt more like being dragged forward—sometimes by others, sometimes by sheer survival.

The three people that dragged me through my healing were my brother, my therapist, and my faith mentor. My brother dragged me to the gym. My therapist dragged the emotions out of me. My faith mentor dragged me through the existential questions I had.

It took me well over a year to “return to baseline.” Grief researchers suggest that it takes people on average around 12-24 months to “return to normal” (whatever that means).

I would still do anything to have my brother back, but through his death I have found purpose in a new career where I get to support thousands of people. There is a way to stand on your story and make meaning out of what happened. You can reclaim your life. I’m living proof.

Hey man…

This comment hits close to home. Hearing that your son passed less than a year ago breaks my heart. My family is coming up on 3 years since losing my youngest brother to suicide, yet some days it feels like it was just yesterday. Your comment reminds me of how hard the first year was. Grief looks different for everyone. It looks different for boys and girls. It looks different even among boys. Here is a framework I would offer your son who is struggling.

The Physical, Mental, Moral Framework

The "Physical, Mental, Moral" framework is simple yet effective. It provides clear takeaways for those struggling with grief.

1. Physical - everyone needs to take care of their body, but this is especially important when grieving because grief distracts us from our basic needs. I wrote more on this in a post about “tools to survive”.

2. Mental - my life’s mission is to remove the stigma around mental health for men. There are so many reasons for this stigma that I won’t get into here, but it causes men to not get help until they are drowning. I was a victim of this and I want others to learn not to wait until it is an emergency.

3. Moral - suicide stirs up big questions. We need people around us that we can share these questions with. We need encouragement to help others. It may feel impossible to help when you are feeling broken, but serving others is a form of healing.

Interwoven in all of these pillars is the idea of male fellowship. Guys to workout with, male mentors to talk with, other men to help and serve. Men get so riled up about war and being ready for battle. I’m here to say this is the war and as men we need to gear up with these tools to fight the war against depression.

I do not want you to lose anymore children. I hope that through this vulnerability and The "Physical, Mental, Moral" framework you have enough to at least begin the healing process with your boys.

Grief is a lifelong journey, one that doesn’t follow a straight path or a set timeline. As I’ve learned through my own loss, the first year is often the hardest—filled with avoidance, confusion, and an ache that words can’t capture. But healing, though slow and messy, is possible. It comes through movement, connection, and having the right people to help pull you forward when you can’t do it alone.

If you or someone you love is navigating this kind of loss, remember: taking care of your body, addressing your mental health, and leaning into difficult questions with trusted people can make all the difference. None of us should have to go through this alone.

Please keep this family in your thoughts and prayers this week.

If you’ve lost someone, what helped you in the first year? If you’ve supported a grieving man, what worked (or didn’t)? Drop a comment—I read every one.

See you next week.