My glow isn't aesthetic, it's survival.

29/08/2025

🌙 When Freedom Feels Heavy

I used to think that once I escaped the life where my basic needs and wants were “provided” but at the cost of my peace, things would finally feel lighter. Back then, I was trapped, my mental health slowly breaking every single day, drowned in chaos and pain.

Yes, there was food on the table. Yes, there were things I could use and buy. But my soul was caged, my mind was bleeding, and my heart was suffocating.

Now, I finally have the freedom I’ve always prayed for.
But the irony is, freedom comes with another kind of weight.

Bills pile up.
Groceries eat up almost everything.
Daily needs take the first cut of every paycheck.
And I’m left wondering, when will I ever experience that “just-right” kind of life?

I don’t dream of being super rich. I don’t need luxury.
All I want is the kind of normal life where bills get paid without drowning.

The kind of life where I can eat what I want without overthinking if it’s “practical.”
Where buying something small for myself doesn’t feel like a sin.....Where I can save money, not just survive.

I’ve been working hard, juggling jobs, and yet my income feels like sand slipping through my fingers. It gets divided so quickly. Daily needs, spay-laters, responsibilities, that nothing stays behind for me. No emergency fund. No savings. No small joy I can say I bought just because I wanted to.

And that hurts.

Sometimes I wonder if escaping the hell of the past only led me to a different kind of prison. This time, it’s not mental abuse but financial strain. This time, it’s not loud arguments but the silent stress of “not enough.”

I hate this life sometimes.
Not because I’m ungrateful for the freedom I fought for, but because surviving has become exhausting in another way.

All I want is balance.
Not too much. Not too little.
Just enough.
A life where survival doesn’t feel like punishment.

Maybe one day.
Maybe soon.

For now, I just keep going.
Because even when life feels unfair, I know I’ve already survived worse.

And maybe...just maybe...
that means I’ll survive this too. 🌑

28/08/2025

I hope everyone I am encountering in my life right now will understand my distance, my awkwardness, and my choices. I never wanted to build walls this high… but I have no choice, I have to protect myself so I will not end up losing myself.

I have been through battles that nobody sees. Some days I am strong, some days I am fragile, and some days I just want to disappear into silence. I wish I could be open and carefree, but right now, my heart still carries wounds that need time to heal.

I have dreams too, they’re not grand… they’re simple dreams that I am longing for until now. Dreams of peace, of safety, of feeling understood without always having to explain myself. Dreams of living quietly without the weight of fear pressing on me.

I hope everyone will choose kindness and understanding, not judgment and assumptions. A gentle word, a little patience, a small act of compassion, it makes all the difference.

I cannot explain every time why my actions are different… why I choose to stay quiet, why I step back, why I leave before things get worse. It isn’t because I don’t care. It’s because I care too much, and I am trying to protect myself from breaking all over again.

I want to avoid conflicts and pain as long as I can. I don’t want to get hurt, that’s why I choose to distance myself. I will adjust if I have to. I will leave if I must. Not because I don’t love or value the people around me, but because right now, I must guard the small strength I have left.

Sometimes, they don’t mean to hurt me… but I am too sensitive and fragile right now. My heart feels everything so deeply, even things others would easily brush off. They might not understand and forget my condition, and it’s not their fault. But at the same time, it’s not easy for me either.

And I don’t want to blame myself every time I am hurt by anyone or everyone around me… because I am already carrying enough. I am tired of hurting, of overthinking every word, of wondering if I am too much or not enough. I just want to breathe without fear.

I hope they understand. I hope they see that behind the walls, there’s still someone longing for connection, love, and peace.

I want to let these walls down too… but I know that I need time to do that. Healing doesn’t happen overnight. It comes in small steps, in tiny moments of courage, in choosing every day to keep going even when it’s hard.

I need time to forgive myself and to accept these disorders completely. To stop feeling ashamed of the way my mind works, and instead learn to hold myself with gentleness.

I am trying… I never stop trying. Even on the days it doesn’t look like it. Even on the nights when I feel like giving up. I am still here, still holding on, still fighting in silence.

I hope you all know that.

25/08/2025

18/08/2025

Severe Anxiety Attacks

My chest is a prison,
tight walls closing in.
Every breath feels borrowed,
every heartbeat, a thunder I can’t silence.

Hands trembling,
skin cold as though I’ve been touched by fear itself.
The room is still,
yet my body is running,
as if chased by an enemy no one else can see.

My mind shouts,
Something is wrong. Something is wrong.
But when I look around,
there is nothing
nothing but my own shadows
multiplying inside me.

I try to steady,
but my pulse is louder than my thoughts,
my lungs shrink against the weight of panic.
I want to escape my own skin,
yet I’m trapped in it.

It feels like dying,
but worse
because it is dying in silence,
while the world thinks I’m alive.

And when it finally loosens,
when the storm crawls back into hiding,
I’m left exhausted,
broken,
yet somehow still here.

If you know this feeling,
if your body has ever turned into a battlefield,
know this
you are not weak.
You are surviving wars
no one else can see.

18/08/2025

I was not born in light,
but in the quiet ache of survival.
Childhood felt less like a garden,
more like walking barefoot on broken glass
each step teaching me pain,
each scar teaching me silence.

I grew up learning to hold my breath,
to hide the storms inside my chest,
to smile while trembling,
to speak only when it felt safe.
I learned that love could wound,
and that home did not always mean shelter.

But in the ruins,
I found fragments of myself.
In the nights I thought I wouldn’t last,
I discovered the stubborn heartbeat
that refused to give up.

People see my glow now,
but they do not see the ashes I crawled from,
the nights I begged the stars to make me disappear,
the mornings I rose anyway.

My glow isn’t aesthetic.
It is not lipstick, not filters, not a perfect smile.
It is the mark of survival,
the quiet strength stitched into my skin,
the courage to live even when life felt unlivable.

So here I am,
writing not to impress,
but to release.
Sharing not to look strong,
but to remind myself, and maybe you
that we are more than what broke us.

This page is my voice,
after years of silence.
These words are my hands,
reaching out to anyone who has ever felt alone.
You are not alone.
And if your glow feels dim tonight,
let this be a reminder
even the faintest light
is proof of survival.

18/08/2025

If you could tell your younger self one thing, what would it be?

18/08/2025

There’s no shame in starting slow. Your heart has lived long, survived much, let it whisper before it blooms.