House Arrested by Life: But I Found My Way Back

There comes a phase in life where you're not just stuck in a room; you are stuck in your own skin.

• You’re breathing, but it doesn’t feel like living.

• You’re surviving, but barely.

• No alarms, no public drama, no one banging at your doors. But inside, it’s chaos.

House arrested, not by law, but by life itself.

Not all prisons have bars.

Sometimes, it’s the pressure.

The guilt. The love that’s forced to fit into a box.

The voices that don’t want to hear yours.

The expectations that wrap around your freedom like invisible chains.

When Home Turns Into a Cage

It began with a conversation that should have been filled with love, understanding, and perhaps a few disagreements. But what came instead was a wall. A big one. And then, silence. And then control. And finally, isolation.

I was moved, locked away, told what to feel, what not to feel.

It wasn't just a new place, it was a new version of me, breaking silently.

My room became both witness and warden. Every breath felt heavy. Every tear dried before it touched the pillow because even crying needed to be hidden.

The Rage. The Numbness. The Loop.

I went through waves.

• One moment, angry enough to scream at everything.
•  The next, numb like I was watching my life from outside a glass wall.
• Some nights, I questioned myself: "Am I wrong for choosing happiness in my own way?"

I journaled in my mind when I couldn’t write. I held onto music, memories, and a tiny sliver of hope. I disappeared from some people, and not everyone noticed. But I was still there. Still breathing and still burning.

Tiny Revolutions, Every Day

Healing didn’t come all at once. There was no grand escape scene or fairytale breakthrough. Instead, I fought small battles:

• Waking up even when I didn’t want to move.
• Looking at myself in the mirror and saying, “You are still alive.”
• Smiling at the sun through the window like it was my first friend.
• Writing drafts, I never posted. Speaking words I never said.

It wasn’t a rebellion. It was survival. And slowly, it turned into resilience.

The Comeback Nobody Clapped For

You know what’s funny?

• Comebacks are quiet. 
• Nobody sees the hundred times you get up after falling. 
• No one applauds the healing that happens in silence.
• But that’s the thing you know.

And I wanted to feel the real comeback, like the day when I laughed without guilt.

The night to sleep without tears.

The moment my heart doesn’t race when someone mentions the past.

That’s how I am going to know that I have found my way back.

To You, Reading This...

Maybe you are where I was - feeling unheard, unseen, unloved.

Maybe you are trapped in a situation you can't explain.

Maybe you cry quietly, pretending to be fine during the day.

Please believe this:

You are not weak . You are not lost. You are just… becoming and evolving without you knowing it.

And no matter how dark it feels,

You will find your way back one day — the same way I did.