Sometimes nobody can understand
There's a strange comfort in knowing that across the world, countless others are sitting in their own quiet rooms, feeling exactly what you feel right now.
Sometimes, nobody can understand what we're going through—not because they don't want to, but because some feelings are just too personal to translate into words.
When you're at your lowest point, when all you want is to vent but can't find the right words, when you're carrying nothing tangible, yet life feels unbearably heavy—that's when the invisible weight settles on your shoulders.
Those moments where your chest feels tight and your thoughts race in circles. I've been there, too. And it's not a nice place to be.
"I don't want to burden anyone with my problems."
"I don't want to reveal this vulnerable side of myself."
"I don't want people to see me as someone who complains all the time."
So we keep it inside. We bottle up these feelings like they're secrets too dangerous to share. And that's okay. It's OK to hold your pain close sometimes.
It's okay to process in silence.
In those moments, I find myself doing the same things you might: I write words that nobody else will read, I pray to God, and I sit in complete silence with only my thoughts for company.
And through it all, I hope. I hope that tomorrow, or next week, or sometime soon, I'll forget about this heaviness, I'll feel better about myself, and I'll rediscover the things that once brought me joy.
In silence, I hope to find peace.
The permission to feel
There's a strange comfort in knowing that countless others are sitting in their quiet rooms, feeling exactly what we feel right now.
It's okay to not be OK.
It's okay to keep things to yourself sometimes.
It's okay to bottle feelings until you're ready to pour them out.
The weight you carry doesn't make you weak—it makes you human.
Your silence doesn't make you a burden—it makes you thoughtful.
Your struggle doesn't make you broken—it makes you real.
So, if you need to keep these feelings to yourself today, know that you're not alone in doing so. If today the bottle stays sealed, that's alright, too.
Until you are ready to open up, the world can wait. It will still be here tomorrow, and so will you—carrying whatever you need to carry, for as long as you need to carry it.
And that, my friend, is perfectly okay.
Embrace, feel, and let go.
I hope you find this insightful. Remember:
It's not going to be easy,
But it's not impossible.
Your friend,
Brian.