Actually, I'm not fine… blog

The Weight of Silence

There were countless days when I felt at my lowest, and it was never just once. It repeated itself like a motion stuck on replay, over and over in my head. I would lie in bed, thinking if I had just done things differently, if I had been less stubborn, if I had asked for help sooner; could my life have been happier? Could I have healed sooner? The weight of those thoughts often felt eternal, like a punishment I had no right to escape.

I have spent almost four decades on this earth, and the truth I’ve realized is that age does not make the pain any lighter. Life rarely aligns with what we think it should look like when we’re young. We’re told to get a good job, fall in love, marry, have children, and live happily ever after. I used to obsess over fairy tales and romantic comedies, imagining that life was supposed to be simple and bright. Reality, however, tastes bitter, sour, and sometimes unbearably heavy.

Yet surviving that reality, showing up day after day despite despair, is proof of strength. Every small effort counts, even when it feels invisible. Your life, your story, and your struggles are valid. You are not alone. Even when the weight feels unending, it can be carried one step at a time.