Still Carrying It

Day 25 – December 18, 2025

Today felt heavier than yesterday.

Not in a dramatic way. Nothing spiked. Nothing fell apart. It was more like the cumulative weight of all the days stacked together finally made itself known. The kind of heaviness that doesn’t announce itself as sadness. It just settles into your shoulders and stays there.

I noticed how tired I am of carrying this.

Not the story. I’m not tired of telling the truth. Not the healing. I know that part takes time. I’m tired of the background weight. The constant low grade awareness. The way everything I do still has to pass through an extra layer of consideration first.

I caught myself thinking, “Will this ever stop being the lens?” Not in a hopeless way. Just honestly.

There’s a strange exhaustion that comes with being aware. When you can see your patterns, name your fear, recognize your nervous system in real time but still have to live inside it. Insight doesn’t erase effort. Sometimes it adds to it.

I moved slower today. I needed more pauses. More moments where I just stood still and let myself exist without trying to make the day productive or meaningful. I didn’t want to wrestle anything into wisdom. I didn’t want to squeeze a lesson out of the hours.

I wanted to be allowed to be tired without making it a problem. That felt important.

I’m realizing that part of this season is learning how to carry things differently. Not lighter yet, but kinder. Letting the weight rest where it naturally falls instead of bracing against it all the time.

I didn’t disappear today. I didn’t give up. I didn’t spiral.

I carried what I could. I set some things down. And I trusted that was enough.

Maybe that’s what strength looks like now. Not endurance at all costs, but discernment. Knowing when to hold on and when to let your arms rest.

So today, I’m still carrying it  but I’m carrying it with a little more honesty. A little more permission. A little less self-judgment.

Chaos in one hand. Grace in the other.

And me learning how to hold what’s heavy without letting it hollow me out.