Content Warnings: Loss, Anxiety, Panic/Panic attacks, Emotional trauma, Grief
Dear Reader,
Grief is a strange thing. It doesn’t follow rules, it doesn’t have an expiration date, and it certainly doesn’t get easier just because time moves forward. I know this because, in 2019, I lost my sister. I was only nine years old, too young to fully understand the weight of what it meant, but old enough to feel the world shift beneath my feet.
I remember the silence that followed, the kind that presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe. The kind that turns familiar places into painful reminders of what’s missing. I didn’t just lose my sister; I lost a part of myself, a version of my life that was whole.
Since then, I’ve lived with a fear I can’t escape, the fear of losing someone else in the same way. The thought of going through that pain again terrifies me. I am not ready to bear another loss. I don’t think I ever will be. Every time someone I love leaves, even just for a little while, my mind races with “what ifs.” What if they don’t come back? What if something happens? What if I have to feel that emptiness all over again?
That fear slowly turned into something bigger. I started struggling with anxiety, the kind that makes your chest feel tight, your thoughts spiral, and your body tremble even when nothing is wrong. Every night, panic attacks would take over, making me feel like I was trapped in my own mind, drowning in emotions I couldn’t control. No matter how much time passed, all I wanted was my sister to come back. I just wanted to undo it all, to stop feeling this pain, to go back to the life where she was still here.
I won’t say I’ve completely overcome it. Some nights, the fear still creeps in. Some days, the emptiness still feels unbearable. But I’ve learned to live with it, to find moments of peace in between the waves of pain. Even in my worst moments, when I felt completely helpless, I held onto one truth, my sister would have wanted me to keep going.
If you’re struggling with grief, with fear, with anxiety that feels bigger than you, I want you to know you are not alone. I know how exhausting it is to fight a battle no one else can see. I know how isolating it feels to carry a pain that words can’t fully explain. But I also know that you don’t have to carry it alone.
Talk to someone. Let yourself feel. Let yourself heal at your own pace. Some wounds don’t fully close, and that’s okay. Healing isn’t about forgetting; it’s about learning how to live with the love and the loss side by side.
To my sister, wherever you are, I miss you. And to those reading this, if you’ve lost someone too, I see you. You are not alone.
With love.
