The first day back at work after losing someone to suicide can feel impossible. Your world has been shattered, yet spreadsheets and quarterly reports don’t stop accumulating. Client meetings still populate your calendar. People expect decisions, leadership, and your usual level of performance. But you’re operating on a completely different level of existence now, one where reading comprehension falters, concentration evaporates, and simple tasks suddenly feel overwhelming.
When my 17 year old son John died by suicide in April 2009, I was a Vice President in the process of being promoted to Senior Vice President. I managed a global organization that required international travel, complex negotiations, and high-stakes decision-making. Within weeks of his death, I was back in the office trying to function in a role that demanded I be on top of my game while my emotions were on a complete roller coaster.
If you’re facing this impossible situation right now, please know that what you’re experiencing is normal. The cognitive fog, the emotional exhaustion, the sense that you’re barely keeping your head above water are all part of professional life after suicide loss. This post shares strategies that helped me navigate this journey, in the hope that they might ease your path forward.
The Reality of Grief in the Workplace
Grief fundamentally changes how your brain functions. Documents I would have read and processed in minutes suddenly required multiple readings. Complex analyses that were once second nature felt like trying to solve calculus problems without my glasses. My reading comprehension, which had always been a professional strength, had me questioning myself.
Your working memory shrinks dramatically under the weight of grief. You blank out in meetings, find yourself staring at your computer screen with no memory of what you were supposed to be doing. This cognitive fog isn’t weakness; it’s a normal neurological response to trauma. Your brain is using enormous energy just processing the loss, leaving fewer resources for routine tasks.
Public speaking added another layer of challenge. Speaking had always come naturally to me before John’s death. Afterwards, it took considerable time before I didn’t feel a sense of anxiety about presentations. There was this little voice in my head before every presentation, reminding me to hold it together, to put the mask on so that I looked professional and composed in front of the audience. The performance aspect of leadership became exhausting in ways it never had been before.
For those familiar with Myers-Briggs, I’m part of the 2% of the population that is an ENTJ personality type, “The Commander.” ENTJs are known for being decisive, strategic, and driven leaders who prioritize logic over emotion. After John’s death, I had to relearn the Feeling and Perceiving sides of myself. While I remain an ENTJ at my core, I’ve evolved dramatically in how I relate to people. The loss of my son to suicide humbled me and fundamentally altered my future goals. The ruthless efficiency and emotional distance that characterize many ENTJs softened into something far more compassionate than I had been.
One reality I hadn’t anticipated: not everyone in the workplace will know or remember that you experienced a suicide loss. While it dominates your life now, your colleagues have other things consuming their workdays. This isn’t them being insensitive; they’re just busy with their own responsibilities and challenges. You may find yourself explaining your situation to people who weren’t aware, or dealing with colleagues who’ve simply forgotten in the press of their daily demands.
When Leadership Becomes Your Lifeline
One of the greatest gifts during my darkest time came from my direct reports and organizational leadership. My direct reports managed to fly cross-country to attend John’s funeral services. But their support went far beyond that moment. They stepped up to cover for me, taking on key issues and engaging with the COO to ensure workplace deliverables didn’t skip a beat. They managed their teams in ways that created understanding throughout the organization.
The night before I came back to the office for the first time, the COO arranged a private dinner in the back room at a local restaurant. That informal setting gave me a safe place for honest discussions with my colleagues before jumping back into the professional environment. We could be human together before putting on our professional roles. This single gesture may have done more to prepare me for my return than anything else.
I was also fortunate that the COO and CEO understood what I was going through. They still expected the professional version of me to show up, which gave me structure and purpose during those early months. But they also gave me breathing room when I needed that 24-hour delay on decisions, when I needed to step away, or when major situations required support while I was in the acute phase of grief.
This kind of support isn’t universal, but it illustrates what’s possible when leadership chooses to show up for someone in crisis. If you’re facing this without such support, the strategies that follow become even more critical.
Practical Strategies for High-Pressure Roles
Buy Yourself Processing Time
My most effective tactic was learning to say: “Let me review these materials and get back to you in 24 hours.” This phrase became a lifeline. It gave me time to read documents multiple times, review materials when my mental capacity was strongest (early mornings for me), and avoid making rushed decisions while my judgment was compromised. This protected both me and my organization from decisions made while I was barely functional.
Create Escape Routes
Some days, grief would hit early afternoon and I needed an emotional break. I’d let my assistant know I was grabbing donuts and asked her to clear my schedule. These weren’t elaborate excuses; they were necessary sanity breaks. Stepping away for 15-30 minutes often allowed me to regain enough composure to finish the day. There’s no shame in recognizing when you need this kind of break. Besides, I love chocolate covered donuts!
Use Travel Time Intentionally
I wasn’t just back at work; I was back on long domestic and international flights almost every week. Over time, I discovered the flights became an unexpected gift. Sitting with my noise-canceling headphones allowed me to tune out the world and focus on both grief and work in ways I couldn’t in the office. During flights, I could cry without anyone noticing, answer emails, review presentations, or simply feel the weight of my loss without having to put on a face for the workplace. If your role involves travel, consider how you might use that isolation intentionally for grief processing.
Plan for Difficult Dates
Every year on the anniversary of John’s death and his birthday, I took those days off. I knew they would be hard, so why make them harder by trying to work? Besides, I wanted to be with family on those days. Block these dates in advance and communicate your unavailability. I let people know why I was unavailable, I was not shy. Anniversary reactions are real and powerful, and trying to power through them while maintaining executive presence is setting yourself up for failure.
Navigate Visual Reminders
My laptop screensaver was filled with family pictures. After John’s death, seeing his face was comforting. But I noticed that when his pictures popped up during meetings, people would freeze momentarily. Over time, I learned to turn off the screensaver during long meetings. This wasn’t about hiding John; it was about creating professional space where others didn’t have to navigate their discomfort while accomplishing work.
Managing Conversations and Disclosure
You’ll need to decide how to handle disclosure in your workplace. The spectrum ranges from complete openness to simply stating you’ve experienced a loss. I generally advocated for honesty with boundaries. “I lost my son to suicide” is complete information; I didn’t owe anyone the details.
For maybe a year after John’s death, I’d often be in meetings when someone I hadn’t seen since the loss would express sympathy. These moments forced me to re-engage with grief when I’d mentally prepared to focus on work. I got good at brief acknowledgment: “Thank you so much for your kind words. I really appreciate it. Now, let’s talk about this project.” This honored their compassion while redirecting to the meeting’s purpose.
Have prepared responses ready. When someone asks “How are you?”, mine was often “I’m managing, thank you for asking” or “Taking it day by day.” For insensitive questions, “That’s too personal to discuss at work” is a complete sentence. Remember that most people genuinely don’t know what to say. Their awkwardness comes from wanting to help combined with inexperience with grief.
Leading While Grieving
For those in leadership positions, the pressure is particularly intense. Your decisions affect others. People depend on your judgment. Operating in this environment while grieving requires both self-awareness and practical adaptation.
Grief doesn’t honor boundaries. It arrives in waves at inconvenient times. Instead of trying to separate grief from work entirely, I found it more effective to integrate them consciously. I acknowledged I would think about John during the workday and took brief breaks when grief surges occurred. This integration doesn’t mean breaking down constantly; it means accepting that grief is now part of who you are.
Watch for signs you’re not ready to make a decision: reading the same paragraph over and over again without comprehension, anxiety about straightforward tasks, physical symptoms like rapid heartbeat, or inability to remember key details. When I noticed these signs, I implemented my 24-hour rule: nothing gets decided today. This sometimes frustrated colleagues but this prevented decisions being made while I was not at the top of my game.
Managing your team’s confidence in your leadership becomes another challenge. Your direct reports may worry about organizational stability. Be strategic about what you share, but also recognize that leading with appropriate vulnerability can actually strengthen your team’s trust. It shows them that life’s tragedies don’t disqualify someone from meaningful work and that asking for help is strength, not weakness.
Executive-Specific Challenges
High-profile roles create unique challenges during grief. If you have to attend board meetings or investor presentations, consider whether you can delegate these temporarily or whether you need to attend with extra support. Major deals or mergers happening during your acute grief period may need different handling than you’d normally provide.
Your professional network may require management. Industry conferences and speaking engagements you’ve committed to may need to be rescheduled. You may need to think carefully about your social media presence if it includes both personal and professional contacts. These decisions depend on your role, your organization’s culture, and your personal capacity.
Some executives worry about workplace politics creating vulnerability during grief. Others watch for reports who question their capacity or gossip about their loss. These concerns are legitimate. Document your work, maintain key relationships, and ensure that your trusted supporters within the organization are helping protect your interests.
Understanding Secondary Losses
Suicide loss triggers secondary losses that compound your grief. Your professional identity might shift dramatically. You may no longer be “the unflappable leader” but instead “the person who experienced tragedy.” I experienced profound changes in what I valued professionally. Work achievements that once felt crucial suddenly seemed meaningless. For months after John’s death, I couldn’t have cared less about the SVP promotion I’d been working toward. The entire corporate ladder felt absurd when viewed through the lens of ultimate loss.
The Long-Term Journey
Returning to work is an ongoing process. The first weeks are about survival. At three to six months, the reality settles in more deeply and support from colleagues may decrease as people assume you’re “over it.” By six months to a year, you’re functioning more reliably but also coming to terms with how fundamentally you’ve changed. Beyond the first year, healing isn’t linear, but most survivors develop better coping mechanisms. The grief becomes integrated rather than overwhelming.
When You Need More Support
Sometimes the workplace situation becomes untenable. Consider FMLA leave if workload or stress is too high. FMLA allows eligible employees to take unpaid, job-protected leave for serious health conditions, including psychological impacts of grief and trauma. Work with a trauma-informed grief specialist who understands suicide loss specifically. And recognize that it’s okay to leave. Choosing to leave a job after suicide loss isn’t failure. Your healing matters more than any job.
Finding Your New Professional Normal
Eventually, you’ll find a way to integrate grief into your professional life. For me, this meant lasting changes. I became more explicit about needing time to process information. I built in more buffer time for projects. I became more selective about opportunities, prioritizing roles aligned with my values rather than chasing promotions.
I also found unexpected gifts. My capacity for empathy deepened, making me a better leader. My tolerance for corporate drama diminished, allowing me to focus on what mattered. And eventually, my grief journey led to entirely new work: supporting other survivors through writing, speaking, and leading support groups. This wasn’t a path I would have chosen before John’s death, but it became deeply meaningful work integrating my professional skills with my experience of loss.
Moving Forward With Compassion
If you’re struggling to function in your professional role after suicide loss, what you’re experiencing is normal. The cognitive challenges, the intense emotions, the concern that you can’t meet expectations are all part of maintaining professional responsibilities while grieving.
Be gentle with yourself. You’re not failing because tasks feel harder. You’re not weak because you need accommodations. You’re grieving. And grieving while maintaining professional responsibilities is one of the hardest things a person can do.
With time, support, and realistic expectations, you will find a way through. You’ll develop strategies that work for your situation. You’ll learn to recognize your capacity and limitations without judgment. The journey back to professional functioning after suicide loss is neither quick nor linear. But it is possible. You just have to keep showing up, being honest about what you need, and extending to yourself the same compassion you would offer a colleague facing similar circumstances.
You’re stronger than you think. And you’re not alone in this struggle.
Other Posts You May Also Like
- Dealing with Difficult Questions After a Suicide Loss Practical guidance for responding to intrusive or insensitive questions about your loss while protecting your emotional boundaries.
- Understanding Grief Essential insights into the nature of grief after suicide and how it differs from other types of loss.
- Picking Up the Pieces: Rebuilding Life After Suicide Loss How to begin reconstructing your life and identity when everything feels shattered by suicide loss.
- Finding Your People: The Healing Power of Suicide Loss Support Groups Why connecting with others who’ve experienced suicide loss can be transformative for your healing journey.
- The Second Year After Suicide Loss: What to Expect Understanding how grief evolves beyond the first year and what challenges and growth the second year may bring.
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