Losing it all

Tags

family, gratitude, growth, Healing, letting go, life, love, perspective, Reflection, resilience, writing

I’ve already been through that once. When I was 15 or 16, my house burned down. I lost everything. Can you imagine being a teenager and dealing with something like that? Everything that felt important (clothes, keepsakes, notes from friends, favorite things) gone in one night. At that age, I didn’t have the emotional tools to handle something like that, but somehow, I made it through. You learn fast that stuff can be replaced, even when it feels impossible at the time.

But if it happened to me today, what would I do? After I got done crying (because let’s be honest, it would be heartbreaking to lose all the mementos from my kids growing up), I’d start doing the adult things. Contacting the insurance company, making lists, figuring out where to even begin rebuilding.

The practical side of me knows the steps, but the emotional side? That’s harder. Losing everything again would still feel like losing pieces of my history. You can’t replace the drawings your kids made, the handwritten notes, the little things that don’t hold much value to anyone but you.

But I also know this: the only thing that really matters is my family being safe. Everything else — the furniture, the clothes, even the memories stored in things — they’re just chapters in a much bigger story. We’d grieve the loss, sure, but then we’d rebuild. Together.

I think I’d handle it differently now. I’ve lived enough life to know that what matters most isn’t the stuff we hold, but the people we hold close. Things can be rebuilt. Memories can be made again. Love doesn’t live in objects. It lives in us.

My brain (again)

Tags

anxiety, exhaustion, grief, Healing, life, love, mental health, mind, overthinking, relief, storm, survival, Truth, writing

I know I’m not alone in this. But it still feels lonely.

Why does a person’s brain turn on them like this? Why does it pick the worst possible scenarios, the ugliest what-ifs, and play them on repeat like some cruel soundtrack you can’t turn off?

I’ve cried myself to sleep the last several nights. My brain keeps dragging me down hallways I don’t want to walk. It keeps opening doors I’d rather stay closed.

And the thing is… I know it’s not reality. I know these thoughts aren’t necessarily true. But knowing doesn’t stop them from showing up. Knowing doesn’t make them hurt less.

It’s exhausting, living in a mind that refuses to rest. Just like I wrote a few days ago — I need some relief. I need a break from myself. I need silence, or softness, or something that makes my chest loosen again. I keep waiting for a break in the clouds. For the air to smell like new beginnings again. For the light to fall in a way that makes me remember what calm feels like.

Until then, I’ll keep reminding myself this won’t last forever. Rain passes, the clouds don’t stay forever. That my brain can run it’s “mouth” all it wants, but it’s not always right. That I’ve survived every other storm it’s thrown at me and I’ll survive this one, too.