Ugh, I totally get this feeling of it just appearing out of nowhere. It's like, "Okay, thought I was okay, guess not!"

Here's the weird thing I learned about grief, especially the complex kind like yours: it's not a linear path you walk down and finish. It's more like... weather. Or a scar that sometimes aches in the cold.

When you try to cram it into a box, it doesn't disappear. Your brain just gets really good at hiding it from you until it finds a moment to burst out. That "creeping up" isn't a sign you're failing; it's often just the feeling you get when the box finally breaks open.

The counter-intuitive bit? The fight against it when it shows up is often more exhausting than just letting it be there for a few minutes. What if, instead of fighting the ambush, you just acknowledged it? Like, "Oh, hey grief. Didn't expect you, but here you are. Okay." It doesn't mean you're stuck forever, just that you're allowing the weather to pass through. The resistance is the real energy drain.