Sometimes I can feel a heaviness rising long before I understand why. It’s like my body knows it needs a moment before my mind does.
That’s all I’ve felt today. It’s been sitting there, quietly accumulating weight, slowly building until I finally allow myself to acknowledge it.
It’s really hard to write in this state because vulnerability feels too raw, too exposed. The words that come to mind reveal more than I’m ready to share. It’s challenging to find language that protects me without dishonesty, yet equally difficult to lay my soul bare on the page.
So maybe pausing is enough. Perhaps not every heaviness needs to be named, explained, or transformed into something profound.
Sometimes the most honest thing we can do is simply say: I’m here, I’m feeling it, and that’s all I have the capacity for right now.
And perhaps that acknowledgement itself is some sort of release.
