I Don’t Know How to Trust Calm Yet.
I used to think chaos was normal. Raised voices, tension, and emotional unpredictability… that was home. So when someone showed me calm, I panicked. Not because they were unsafe, but because I didn’t know how to feel safe.
I get the urge to run when things are quiet. When someone is kind without condition. When there’s no fight to brace for.
It’s not that I don’t want peace. It’s that peace feels unfamiliar. And unfamiliar feels dangerous.
Relational healing, for me, isn’t about trusting people. It’s about trusting the moment. Trusting that kindness won’t flip. That softness won’t turn sharp.
I’ve learned to name my spirals. To say, “I’m scared this will change.” To say, “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
And sometimes, the people who love me say, “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Sometimes they say, “I’ll stay, even if you need to step back.” Sometimes they say nothing at all and just stay.
That’s what repair looks like now. Not fixing what was broken. But learning how to stay in what’s whole.
Even when it’s quiet. Even when it’s calm. Even when I want to run.
Not sure what you need today? Start with the Mood Map.
If this post resonated, here are a few others that might meet you where you are:
I Cried for an Hour and Called It Progress: For the moments when release feels like regression, and the quiet truth that falling apart can still be forward motion.
I Didn’t Know I Was Dissociating Until I Wasn’t: For the slow unraveling of awareness, and the strange relief of naming what’s been happening all along.
Too Much Lives in My Body: For the days when calm feels suspicious, and your nervous system doesn’t know how to rest, even when it’s safe.
You’re not alone in this. Keep exploring at your own pace.
