When Every Day Feels Like a Locked Door

There was a time when mornings did not mean sunlight.

They meant the same four walls.

The same heavy silence.

The exact weight in my chest made it hard to breathe.

It’s strange how a day can look normal to someone outside, yet inside, it feels like a lifetime of darkness. My clock still ticked, but I wasn’t moving anywhere. I wasn’t allowed to.

Some days I would stare out the window, not even looking at anything, just hoping that maybe, if I waited long enough, life would knock on my door and tell me it was okay to step out again. It never did.

People think the most challenging part of a dark phase is the pain. But it’s not. It’s the feeling that it will never end. That you will live like this forever, locked in, unheard, and small.

And yet, here’s the strange part. It did not last. Not because someone came to save me. Not because the world suddenly became kind. It ended because, little by little, I learned how to exist with the darkness until it got tired of me.

Now, looking back, I can’t say I’m thankful for those days. But I can say this, they didn’t win.