Surviving Life. What Does that Look Like?
Sometimes,
it looks like a diagnosis
that could have been caught earlier.
Sometimes,
it’s the death of a loved one—
the one—
who took a piece of your heart
with them when they left.
Sometimes it’s recovery from an addiction.
Making it through the night.
Or maybe,
it’s waking up inside a version of your life
you no longer recognize.
It crept up slowly,
while you were busy surviving other things,
and now…
it looks nothing like
what you thought it would be.
But surviving—
surviving is not always visible.
It’s not loud.
It’s not heroic.
Sometimes it’s just
an interpretation
your inner self offers you
when nothing else makes sense.
A small voice that says:
“Find one more piece of yourself.”
Even when you’re unsure
there’s anything left
to find.
So you wipe your tears.
You hold yourself up.
You pray.
And when the pain is too big,
you rewrite the story
just enough for your mind
to convince your heart
that maybe…
what happened didn’t really matter.
You get through the day
with that interpretation.
Because you’ve gotten through before.
And something in you
still believes
this too will be a climb
that one day
you’ll claim you survived.
But no one warns you—
Even your own truth
can be a brutal thing.
More painful,
more relentless
than the soft mercy
of a simple lie.
And how do you survive
that?
Surviving
the piece of yourself
you counted on the most—
the one you trusted
for the truth?
How do you forgive her?
The version of you
that swore she knew.
The voice you followed
with everything you had.
The one who said,
“This time it’s safe.”
And now…
you’re left
standing in the ruins
of what she believed.
How do you forgive
the one who lives
inside your own ribcage?
That kind of survival
is quiet.
It’s lonely.
It doesn’t ask for applause.
It asks for Mercy..
So you breathe.
You whisper prayers
that shake in your chest.
You walk,
even with trembling knees.
And you say—
“I may not feel strong…
but I’m still here.”
And maybe,
just maybe—
that’s what surviving Life looks like.
Not forgetting.
Not fixing.
Not running.
Because of Faith
Staying—
inside your Truth,
without crumbling.
And some days, thats more than enough.
