Burning Beneath

I saw a post on Facebook the other day that asked, “Is it ever going to get better?”

I didn’t reply—just clicked the care icon—but the question wouldn’t leave my mind. It echoed inside me because right now I’m wrestling with anxiety, depression, and an endless flood of worries.

The first thought that rose up in me—loud, almost like a scream—was this: Let go. Stop fighting. Stop resisting. Just let it happen.

For so long my nervous system has been in overdrive. I’ve spent years in a vicious cycle of facing problems, fighting to fix them, forcing change, only for new problems to rise up stronger. Eventually, everything inside me broke down. And in that breaking, the only thing I’ve been able to do is simply be. Just breathe. Just stay alive.

I’ve learned, almost against my will, that sometimes fighting harder isn’t winning. Letting go isn’t giving up—it’s surrendering the illusion that we can control everything. When I finally stopped pushing, things began to shift on their own.

It’s like watching a matchstick burn: the flame is fierce and bright at first, feeding on the wood, and then it dies out. Problems are the same—they flare up big and complicated, but over time, they burn themselves out. Another one may come, yes, but the cycle repeats.

Letting go means releasing the idea that I can force things to change, that I can make life better by sheer willpower. Life isn’t easy. We all run on this hamster wheel of days, bills, obstacles, and responsibilities. But I’ve come to see that if the wheel keeps spinning, I don’t have to. I can choose to slow down and simply be present.

Of course, it’s easier said than done—especially when you’re drowning financially or overwhelmed by obligations, as I am now. But the alternative is my health. And for the sake of my kids, and for myself, I choose me.

Now I let things come when they come. I handle what I can handle when I can handle it. I still do what’s necessary, but with as little haste and stress as possible. My goal is simple: just be. Just breathe.