When I Spiral, I Still Deserve Care.

There are days when my thoughts scatter like leaves in wind, no center, no stillness, just motion. I forget how to hold myself. I forget how to ask for help. I forget that spiraling isn’t failure, it’s a signal.

Spiraling doesn’t mean I’m broken. It means something inside me is trying to speak.

Sometimes it’s grief, sometimes fear, sometimes the quiet ache of unmet needs. And in those moments, care feels far away, like a language I used to know but can’t quite pronounce anymore.

But here’s what I’m learning: Even when I spiral, I still deserve care. Not once I’ve “calmed down.” Not after I’ve “made sense.” Now. In the middle of the mess.

Care can look like:

• Sitting with myself without rushing to fix

• Whispering a prayer that doesn’t need answers

• Lighting a candle just to remember I exist

• Wrapping myself in a blanket and naming one true thing: I am still here

I don’t have to earn gentleness. I don’t have to perform stability to be worthy of love. I don’t have to explain my spiral to deserve softness.

This is my reminder, for myself, and maybe for you too: You are not too much. You are not too late. You are not too lost. You are worthy of care, even when you forget how to ask for it.

So today, I offer myself a quiet mercy. Not because I’ve “gotten better.” But because I’m human. And that’s enough.