Nothing Feels Safe Anymore
Nothing feels safe anymore.
Not plans. Not people. Not promises. Not even ordinary days.
Because I learned that everything could change in an instant. That the people you love can be here one moment and gone the next. That safety is an illusion, and nothing is guaranteed.
And now I live differently.
I don't trust good things to last. I don't make plans without wondering if they'll fall apart. I don't let myself get too comfortable because I know how fast comfort can be ripped away.
I brace myself. All the time. For everything.
For bad news. For the other shoe to drop. For loss to show up again because now I know it can.
I used to feel safe in the world. I used to believe that if I loved people hard enough, if I did everything right, if I held on tight enough—they'd stay.
But they didn't stay. And now I know that love doesn't protect you from loss. That doing everything right doesn't guarantee anything. That holding on tight doesn't stop people from leaving.
And that broke something in me.
The part of me that believed the world was mostly safe. That believed bad things happened to other people but not to me. That believed I had some control over keeping the people I love alive.
I don't believe any of that anymore.
Now I know that terrible things happen. To anyone. At any time. Without warning. Without reason.
And I can't unknow that.
So, I move through the world differently now. Guarded. Anxious. Always waiting for something to go wrong.
I don't trust peace. I don't trust calm. I don't trust when things are going well because I've seen how fast things can fall apart.
And people tell me I need to relax. To stop worrying. To trust that everything will be okay.
But I can't.
Because I trusted that before. I believed everything would be okay. And then it wasn't.
And now nothing feels safe anymore.
Not my home. Not my relationships. Not my future. Not even my own body.
Because grief taught me that safety is a lie. That control is an illusion. That the only thing you can count on is that nothing is guaranteed.
And I hate living like this.
I hate being on edge all the time. I hate bracing myself for disaster. I hate that I can't enjoy good moments because I'm too busy waiting for them to end.
But I don't know how to stop.
Because this is what loss does. It takes away your sense of safety. It rewires your brain to expect the worst. It makes you hypervigilant and anxious and unable to trust that anything good will last.
Nothing feels safe anymore.
And I don't know if it ever will again.
My book will be available soon.
This is a collection of writings centered around grief, love, loss, and learning how to keep living after life changes forever.