My Story

“I didn’t recognise myself anymore.”

For months, maybe years, something inside me was slipping. But I kept pretending - holding it together on the outside while feeling completely lost underneath.

I moved through each day on autopilot, brushing aside the tight chest, the racing thoughts, the constant exhaustion. I thought if I just kept going, it would pass. But it didn’t - and slowly, I began to disappear inside the weight of it all.

Afraid to Slow Down

“I didn’t know how to be still without falling apart.”

I became good at staying busy - always doing, always moving - because stopping felt dangerous. In the quiet, everything I was avoiding would surface. The fear, the shame, the guilt of not being okay. So I filled my days with noise, lists, distractions. I thought I was keeping it together, but really, I was keeping myself numb - afraid of the stillness.

Stuck in the Doing

“Keeping busy gave me something to hold”.

I wasn’t thriving - I was barely making it through.

But the idea of stopping felt even scarier than continuing down a path that didn’t feel like mine.

So I kept going through the motions, smiling when I needed to, saying I was fine when I wasn’t.

Part of me knew this wasn’t the life I wanted.

But I stayed, moving forward without direction, afraid of what slowing down might reveal.

Living Inside The Fear

“When you get used to surviving, you forget how to feel safe.”

Fear became the backdrop to everything - fear of failing, fear of changing, fear of being seen too clearly. It didn’t show up loudly. It crept in slowly, shaping how I spoke to myself, how I made choices, how I let people in. I stayed in places that hurt because they felt familiar. I didn’t know who I was outside the anxiety - and I was terrified to find out.

Becoming Who I Need

“I still have hard days but I don’t hide

I’m not fully healed, and maybe I never will be in the way I once thought.

But I’m here now - more present, more honest, more myself than I’ve ever been.

What helped most was knowing I wasn’t alone. That someone else had felt this too. That it can get better.

So I built what I wish I had - something steady to hold onto, when everything feels like too much.

What I Wish I Had

"I used to think I had to do it all alone."

There were days I didn’t want to get out of bed, nights I felt like I was disappearing. I kept waiting for someone to tell me it would be okay.

No one ever did. So I had to find my way forward, slowly, with shaky hands and a racing heart.

Home Again is the guide I made from that place. Not because I have all the answers - but because the little things that help me - could help you too.