You Are Not Alone: Words of Comfort for Tough Times

For much of my life, I’ve felt adrift, caught in moments when I wasn’t okay, yet unable to admit it. For years, it was easier to pretend everything was fine rather than face the truth. I often felt alone, struggling to stay afloat on a sea that seemed intent on pulling me under with its relentless waves.

Writing about my own mental health journey has become a way to break down those walls, helping me destigmatize and normalize these conversations—first for myself and, hopefully, for others too. I’m learning that it’s okay to say when I’m not okay. It’s okay to make the invisible, visible.

I hope this collection of words carry you through those moments you need them most. Whether you seek to be seen, or simply understood, I want to remind you that you are not alone. As I navigate my own path to healing, one word at a time, I hope these reflections offer you a little light along the way.

Something breaks

Something breaks. 
Small, insignificant, unseen. 
It fractures quietly, 
a soundless shatter 
that no one notices. 
Yet inside, 
the crack radiates, 
paralyzing your being. 

How do you explain the hurt 
when there are no scrapes to tend, 
no bones to cast, 
no tears to wipe? 
Inside, the wound stays open, 
unhealed, 
a silent ache that lingers, 
hidden from the world, 
where everyone else looks on, 
unaware.

It’s a mystery

It’s a mystery,
the question: ‘Why am I not okay?’
A question that baffles anyone
who’s ever lived through the fog of ‘Not-Okay’ness.

I’ve spent days, weeks, even years unraveling it,
wondering why some seem to flourish with ease
while others scrape by, surviving.
Yet, the answer still slips away.

I’ve examined triggers,
dissected situations,
searched for a single cause—
but nothing holds, nothing I can pin down.

Perhaps it’s a mystery meant to remain unsolved,
a quest I’ll always seek and never find.
‘Why am I not okay?‘
I don’t know. Do you?

Somehow, the light always finds a way through

I might look happy, confident and altogether, but beneath the surface, I battle raging wars with myself. At times, my mind feels entirely against me.

I could have a great week, month, or even years,
and then a dark cloud envelops my thoughts.
“Where the f*ck did you come from?” I wonder,
but there’s no answer to that question.

I must fight on,
get through each day,
and strive to reach a place
where the darkness isn’t consuming.
I cling to the hope of getting to the other side,
though you worry, of course,
that you never will.
You fear the clouds won’t break,
that you’ll remain in that dull, overcast,
foreboding world.

Yet somehow, the light always finds a way through.

Things will be hard at times

Things will be hard at times,
and some days,
you’ll want to give up.
I hope you don’t.
I hope that every time you persevere
in moments when you feel too weak,
you realize just how powerful
and capable you truly are.

When someone says

When someone says,
“I get it,”
“me too,”
“I’ve been there,”
“why do we feel like this?”
Doesn’t it feel like something shifts in that moment?
Suddenly, the weight feels
just a little lighter
than it did before.

You don’t have to do this alone

I see you. I notice how you pretend, 

how you keep up the act for everyone else— 

calm, strong, resilient, dependable. 

You think these traits will save you, 

but they weigh on you, tearing quietly beneath the surface.

I see your pain, the burdens you carry alone, 

the weight of the world pressing down, 

while no one knows you need saving too.

I see how small and insignificant you think you are,

the way you strive to excel, 

yet never feel validated, no matter how much you achieve. 

I watch you slowly unravel, 

hidden in plain sight, the quiet ache unnoticed. 

I see how you hurt when you think no one is looking— 

but I’m watching.

I see you. Let me help you, 

let me be there. 

You don’t have to do this alone.

There are good days and bad ones

There are good days and bad ones,

days when you question everything,

and others when it all makes sense.

Days filled with light and happiness,

and others when it feels as if

the curtains have been drawn.

There are days when not much feels achieved,

and others when eveything you hoped for

and more gers done.

Some days are struggles you wish not to repeat,

while others you wish could last forever,

replayed over and over in the years to come.

The bad days are as certain as the good,

but another day brings another chance

for something better,

and more good days will come.

It’s beautiful out there

Life can be challenging, 
but it can also be beautiful. 
Even when hope feels distant, 
don’t let your thoughts convince you 
that seasons never change, 
or that storms don’t pass. 
Twilight comes before dawn, 
daffodils wither only to bloom again. 
Change is constant. 
Don’t allow your struggles 
to obscure the beauty around you, 
or make you believe that transformation is impossible. 
I promise, 
it’s beautiful out there, 
and things will change, 
even if you can’t see it yet. 

I know your heart feels heavy at times

I know your heart feels heavy at times, 
and your mind can be a relentless adversary, 
making life feel harder than it should. 
But I want you to remember: 
things can and will get better. 
Life is a tapestry of struggle and joy, 
and your pain is not your compass. 

Light will always find a way to reach you, 
even when you can’t see or feel it. 
It waits quietly, ready to pull you from the shadows, 
to hold your hand and guide you 
toward brighter days.

In the darkest moments, the words of others brought unexpected light—a special kind of magic that soothes an unsettled soul. I hope these words offered you that same light.

Remember that it is okay to take things one day at a time, you are worthy and deserving of peace, love and happiness. There is no shame in seeking help for your mental health. You are not alone, please do not suffer in silence. Sometimes, pain must be spoken to be set free. Silence your pain, and it festers, corrupting everything within. Let your tears flow, voice your truth, release the weight that seeks to engulf you. Share your burden, and in the act of naming it, you’ll find it lightens, softened by the acknowledgment that it is real.