This last year and a half has been incredibly challenging. It feels as if one difficult situation after another keeps coming at me, and I can't find a moment to breathe. I lost my job due to layoffs, went through a heartbreaking separation from someone I truly believed was my soulmate, and just when I thought I might be able to start moving on, my mother suffered a stroke, forcing me to take on the role of her primary caregiver.
Then there was the insomnia and the ever-present anxiety. I noticed that friends began to distance themselves because I stopped participating in social activities. I simply didn’t have the energy to engage. Every time hope begins to flicker, something else crumbles. Recently, my doctor informed me that my blood pressure and cholesterol levels are dangerously high — my coping mechanism has been overeating and barely staying active.
Looking in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I used to be someone I was proud of, but now it feels like I merely exist instead of truly living. Most days, I feel numb. I put on a brave face when necessary, but I end up crying alone at night.
To make matters worse, I never fully processed the grief of losing my younger brother over two years ago. I didn’t allow myself to grieve, and now I feel like a shaken soda can with no way to release the pressure inside. I'm exhausted — not just physically, but in my very soul.
Then there was the insomnia and the ever-present anxiety. I noticed that friends began to distance themselves because I stopped participating in social activities. I simply didn’t have the energy to engage. Every time hope begins to flicker, something else crumbles. Recently, my doctor informed me that my blood pressure and cholesterol levels are dangerously high — my coping mechanism has been overeating and barely staying active.
Looking in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I used to be someone I was proud of, but now it feels like I merely exist instead of truly living. Most days, I feel numb. I put on a brave face when necessary, but I end up crying alone at night.
To make matters worse, I never fully processed the grief of losing my younger brother over two years ago. I didn’t allow myself to grieve, and now I feel like a shaken soda can with no way to release the pressure inside. I'm exhausted — not just physically, but in my very soul.