Surviving the Storm: Finding Strength, Humor, and Hope in the Chaos

The Strength to Rise Again (Or at Least Get Out of Bed)

Let’s be honest—life can be an absolute dumpster fire!

And not the kind that smells like toasted marshmallows and adventure. No, this fire is fueled by past trauma, self-doubt, and a series of questionable life choices, like that time you impulse-bought a treadmill and now it’s just a very expensive laundry rack. But guess what? You’re still here. You’re reading this, which means some part of you is still fighting, and that’s pretty damn impressive!

Because pulling yourself out of a dark place? That takes more strength than running a marathon. And I mean, a real marathon, not just the mental Olympics of convincing yourself to leave the house. (Not that I would know—I avoid running unless something is chasing me, and even then, I’d probably try to negotiate first.)

Survival is Exhausting, But You’re Doing It Anyway

People love to throw around the phrase “You’re so strong.” And sure, that’s nice to hear, but let’s be real—sometimes I’d rather have been just a little less strong and not had to endure half the crap I’ve been through.

I’ve survived things I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. 

• Physical abuse? Check.

• Mental and emotional manipulation? Check. 

• Sexual trauma? Check.

• An ex who made my life a horror movie before ending his own? Unfortunatly check.

I remember the night I walked away from him. The weight in my chest was unbearable, but I still left. 

Then came the phone call that shattered everything. People whispered about how tragic it was, how complicated, how they never saw it coming. 

But I had seen it coming...

And yet, knowing didn’t make it any easier.

Nothing says “self-care challenge” like carrying around the emotional baggage of someone else’s selfish choices. Guilt, grief, confusion, freedom, terror—it’s like a chaotic smoothie of feelings, that tastes like regret. If you’ve ever felt alone, caged, or like the universe accidentally put you on the “extra suffering” list, I see you.

You Are Not Alone (Even If It Feels Like It)

One of the worst things about struggling mentally is that your brain loves to gaslight you. “No one cares about you,” it whispers. “You’re a burden.” “You’re nothing.”

And yet, the second you disappear for too long, people start coming out of the woodwork like, “Hey, you good?”—which is proof that your brain is, in fact, a liar and also kind of an a**hole.

For the longest time, I believed I had to handle everything alone. That talking about my pain would make me seem weak or, worse, make people uncomfortable. But here’s the truth: pain is part of life, and the more we share it, the less power it has over us.

At first, opening up felt awkward. Some people got uncomfortable (turns out, “So, funny story about my trauma…” isn’t great small talk at a dinner party). Others reacted like I had just told them I eat soup with a fork.

But the more I spoke, the more I realized that so many people are carrying hidden battles. And suddenly, I wasn’t so alone anymore...

Celebrating the Little Wins (Because They Count, Damn It!)

You might not feel like you’re making progress. But let’s set the bar at a reasonable level:

• Did you wake up today? Victory. 

• Did you resist texting your toxic ex? A standing ovation. 

• Did you eat something other than coffee and regret? You, my friend, are a champion.

Healing isn’t about waking up one day and suddenly feeling like a Disney princess singing in the forest. It’s about showing up for yourself in small ways, every single day.

Maybe today’s success was not throat-punching someone who deserved it. Maybe it was dragging yourself out of bed and into the shower even though you didn’t feel like it. Maybe it was simply breathing through another moment that felt unbearable.

If you pulled yourself out of a dark place today, even just a little, I’m ridiculously proud of you. And if you’re still stuck, that’s okay too. The fact that you’re here, reading this, means you’re still in the game.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow is another chance to show up for yourself. Even if it’s messy, even if it’s just barely. Because survival isn’t just existing—it’s fighting, even when all you can do is whisper, “Not today, darkness. Not today.”