This is my own experience and own story and I never planned to tell anyone this story. It’s something I buried deep inside, behind smiles and laughter, behind the version of me that everyone thinks is “fine.” But the truth is, I wasn’t fine. Not even close. I’m a student just an ordinary one. But for a long time, I felt like I was living in a body that was just… existing. Every day felt heavier than the last. I’d wake up with this ache in my chest, like the world was pressing down on me and I couldn’t breathe. People saw me as quiet, maybe shy. What they didn’t see was how loud my mind really was. How it screamed things like, "You’re not good enough. You’re a failure. You’ll never be like them." They didn’t see the nights I cried quietly into my pillow so no one would hear. They didn’t see how many times I wanted to disappear. I was scared scared of living, scared of failing, scared of being me. It started with anxiety. Small things would make my heart race walking into a classroom, talking to people, seeing my grades. I’d feel like everyone was judging me even when no one was. And then came the insecurities about my looks, my voice, my worth. I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I tried to act okay. I laughed when my friends laughed. I studied hard. I tried to be strong for my family. But inside, I was breaking. There were days I’d stare at my notebooks and think, "What’s the point of living in this world?." And then came that night.
It was raining the kind of rain that feels endless. The kind that sounds like the sky is crying too. I sat in the dark, my head in my hands, my heart beating too fast. I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t know how to live anymore. I thought about all the problems piling up my grades, my parents arguing, the way people looked happier than me, the way I never felt “enough.” I thought about how tired I was of pretending. How tired I was of myself. So I decided that maybe… maybe it was time to stop trying. But before I could do anything, my phone lit up. A message. It was from my friend, the one who always made jokes in class. She said, “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been quiet lately. I miss hearing your laugh.” And that’s when I broke. Not in the painful way I expected but in a way that reminded me that someone actually saw me. That someone cared. That someone noticed my silence. I cried harder than I ever had before. I cried because I wasn’t invisible. I cried because for the first time in so long, I felt something other than pain I felt "hope." That night, I didn’t end my life. I ended my silence. I told myself, "Maybe I don’t need to be okay tonight. Maybe I just need to make it to tomorrow."
And I did.
The next morning, I opened my window and felt the air touch my face. The sunlight was soft, and for a moment, everything was quiet. I remember whispering to myself, “You’re still here.” That was the beginning of everything. Healing didn’t happen fast. It wasn’t pretty. There were still bad days days I wanted to quit, days I couldn’t get out of bed, days I hated myself all over again. But there were also good ones tiny moments of peace I had never noticed before. Like when I laughed genuinely again.
Or when someone hugged me without asking why. Or when I passed a test I thought I’d fail. Or when I looked at the sunset and thought, "Maybe the world isn’t so cruel after all." I started talking to people. I let myself cry in front of someone for the first time. I told my teacher I was struggling. She didn’t look disappointed she looked proud. Proud that I was still here, still trying. I learned something beautiful that life isn’t about being happy every day. It’s about surviving the ones that hurt. It’s about finding small reasons to keep going, even when you don’t have big ones. Sometimes, your reason can be as simple as a text from a friend. A hug. A song. A sunrise. Those small things they save lives, too. Now, when I think about that night, I don’t feel shame anymore. I feel gratitude. Because if I didn’t go through that pain, I wouldn’t have learned how precious life truly is. I still have anxiety. I still overthink. I still get scared. But I’m learning that being “broken” doesn’t mean being hopeless. It just means I’ve been fighting battles most people don’t see and I’m still here. And maybe that’s what makes me strong.
"Soo to the one Who’s Fighting Silently"
If you’re reading this and your heart feels heavy… I see you.
If you’ve been crying quietly at night so no one will hear… I understand you. If you feel like you’re losing yourself… please hold on a little longer. You are not a burden. You are not your anxiety. You are not the bad things your mind tells you. You are someone trying your best and that’s enough. I know it’s hard. know sometimes you wish you could just disappear and stop feeling everything, But please don’t.
There’s still a world waiting for you. There are people who haven’t met you yet but will love you for who you are. There are sunsets you haven’t seen, laughter you haven’t shared, songs you haven’t heard. There’s still peace waiting for you I promise. You don’t need to have everything figured out right now. You just need to keep breathing. You just need to stay. Because one day, you’ll look back and realize how brave you were for surviving. You’ll realize that you were never weak you were just human. And maybe one day, your story will save someone else’s life, just like someone’s small message saved mine. Please remember that You are loved, You are needed, You matter, You are not alone. Stay because the world still needs your light, even if you can’t see it yet. Stay because one day, you’ll smile again, and it’ll feel real this time.Stay because life still has something beautiful waiting for you.
