Since starting this blog in 2013, I’ve disappeared many times.
The perfectionist in me feels deep guilt around this. I’ve wanted to show up consistently, to publish often, to continue building something that feels meaningful.
But I’ve found I can’t do that if I’m putting unnecessary pressure on myself to have it all together while life is crumbling around me.
The truth is that I’ve been in the depths of trying to return to myself, to undo years of playing the role of the perfectionist, the one unable to speak her needs or to even recognize what they were.
I’ve spent too long forcing myself through emotional storms while trying to appear put together on the outside.
I’ve learned the hard way that when you force your way through life, your body will eventually force you to do what it needs. It will force you to slow down and take a good, hard look in the mirror.
When this happens, it will feel like the collapse of your entire being and everything you ever knew to be true.
The unraveling
The collapse started in October of 2024.
After pushing through a year of big change—the end of an eight-year relationship, moving back in with my parents, moving to another state, dealing with a stressful financial situation, and experiencing a health scare—my body wanted me to pause.
The back pain I’d lived with since 2021 became excruciating. I started experiencing pain and discomfort in almost every area of my body. The list of strange and unexplainable symptoms I had could fill an entire notebook.
I did what I could to push through. I thought I was doing all of the right things by journaling, meditating, and trying to stay positive. I don’t think I was doing anything wrong, but I needed something deeper than that to heal.
My body was saying, “If you don’t listen to what I’m telling you, you’re going to spiral out of control.“
And because I wouldn’t listen, that is indeed what started to happen. After trying to hold everything in, it all came spilling out.
Anxiety and pain took over
What started as chronic back pain eventually turned into severe health anxiety that took over my life.
I began to fear the most mundane things. Every unfamiliar sensation in my body became something to worry about. My brain tried to convince me that I was dying more times than I can count. While this was happening, I had some of the darkest thoughts I’ve ever had in my life.
The whole time, I was wondering, “Why am I like this? Is there something inherently wrong with me?” And there was a voice inside my head that said, “People experience much worse. Be grateful.“
But that way of thinking did nothing but add shame to an already intense experience. Fear and shame do not mix well.
I can look back on these things a year later and realize I was having a perfectly human response to the changes in my life, but I put so much pressure on myself to keep pushing forward and hold it all together.
Finding my way out
Over the past two years, I’ve swum in the depths of fear, pain, obsession, and dysregulation.
I’ve lived through pain that felt like sandpaper grating on my nerves. I’ve had panic attacks in the middle of the night that made me question my sanity. I’ve woken up in fear, day after day.
But I’ve come out on the other side. I’ve begun to heal wounds and patterns that started long ago. I’ve started to understand my triggers and the root of where they came from.
As I write this in 2026, I no longer experience health anxiety or back pain as part of my daily existence. They are not part of my identity.
Telling the truth
Too many people experience fear and panic daily, yet we’re told to “just relax”, that “it’s not that deep”, and that “you’re too sensitive.”
I know I’m not the only one who has felt what I have, yet few people seem to be talking about it.
I feel part of my duty on this earth is to bring light to these very human experiences.
If more people could tell the truth about how they’re feeling and what they’re experiencing, our society would be a better place.
Unfortunately, as a culture, we do not know how to sit with our emotions. We blame others for our problems instead of looking inward. We think we’re perfect and that everyone else is the problem.
We all have ghosts that haunt us, but few people try to face them. And why would we? Where’s the fun in that?
From my experience, facing the ghosts that live within you will grant you access to everything you’ve ever wanted.
Returning to myself
I believe something had to shake up my world enough for me to uncover the truth of who I really am. That’s how I see the ongoing chapters of my life.
Now I’m in the process of rebuilding my life, a life that is actually mine.
I’m living alone for the very first time. I’m taking dance classes, something that I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve put myself out there (as an introvert) to meet new people at local meetups. I’m in a healthy relationship. My creativity is back and alive.
I’m returning to the truest version of myself, and I wouldn’t be able to do that if I kept running away from my problems.
Everyone wants to know the secret to feeling at peace with themselves.
The reality is that it involves a painful process of:
- understanding and facing your fears
- being kind to your nervous system
- trusting yourself and not outsourcing decisions to other people
- defining and speaking your needs
- telling the truth
Healing is not a final destination. There will always be more to learn about yourself. But if you can face your ghosts, the ones that haunt you as you lie in bed at night, you can return to who you were before everyone told you who they wanted you to be.
What comes next
I want to share what I’ve uncovered about fear, anxiety, pain, shame, and guilt; what I’ve had to unlearn; and how I’ve been healing layers and layers of myself so that you can, too.
What I have to share feels more than just a new chapter in my life; it’s a new book.
Over time, I’ll be sharing the story of how fear took over my life until I could create inner safety and come back to myself.
If you’re dealing with pain or anxiety right now, know that you are not alone. You are not broken. You can get through this.