mental-health
-
The Bloodbath of Healing
People don’t understand that healing isn’t a glow-up. It’s a bloodbath. It’s standing in the wreckage of everything you tolerated and realizing the monster wasn’t just him – it was the version of you that stayed. The one who kept… Continue reading
-
When Silence Masquerades as Love
I’m tired of calling restraint love. For too long, I’ve tried to convince myself that biting my tongue, locking my hands behind my back, and choking down the feelings that rise in my chest is a noble act. That holding… Continue reading
-
Holding It All Together Nearly Broke Me
I didn’t notice the burnout at first. I just thought I was tired. Of course I was tired. But then the tired didn’t go away. It didn’t matter how much I slept – or didn’t. I’d wake up with heaviness… Continue reading
-
I Built the Life. Then My Body Broke Down.
For years, I didn’t stop. Work all day, come home and mother, then study deep into the night. Some nights I was up until two, sometimes three in the morning, chasing a degree that felt like survival, not ambition. People… Continue reading
-
For Me. For Him. For Us.
I used to think healing meant finding the right words to make people understand. To explain why I stayed so long. Why I kept hoping. Why I kept trying to make it work when it was already broken. I wanted… Continue reading
-
The Way Trauma Speaks
Some days, I still don’t know how to explain what I’ve lived through. I only know the way my stomach drops without warning. The way silence can feel louder than shouting. The way my body stiffens at a familiar sound… Continue reading
-
Frozen Without Warning
It’s hard to explain how fast it changes. I can be fully present – listening, laughing, even making eye contact – and then suddenly, something in me goes quiet. It doesn’t always take a trigger. Sometimes it’s just a tone,… Continue reading
-
The Quiet Collapse
I can be doing everything right. Drinking water. Getting enough sleep. Moving my body. Smiling at people in the hallway. Laughing at the right parts of a conversation. On paper, I look like I’m okay. Like someone who has their… Continue reading
-
Socks, Skies, and Silence
I don’t always know what safety feels like when it comes to people. I’ve been wrong before. Trusted the tone instead of the truth. Believed calm voices that came with cold eyes. So now I look for it in smaller… Continue reading
-
The Ache Beneath the Armor
It’s hard to ask for help when your trauma taught you that needing anything makes you a burden. So I don’t. I keep it in. I figure it out. I carry what’s too heavy because somewhere along the way, I… Continue reading
-
When the Ache Isn’t Physical
There are nights where I feel it in my shoulders first – a dull heaviness that sinks in without warning. Then in my chest. My back. My legs. A full-body ache that doesn’t have a source I can name. No… Continue reading
-
The Silence That Startles Me
Some days, nothing looks wrong on the outside. The coffee is warm. The morning is quiet. The world moves normally. But then something small – a sharp tone, footsteps too loud, a door closing a little too hard – lands… Continue reading
Light Calls To Light 