I want to be clear about what this space is, and what it isn't.

This is not a gallery of grief. I'm not writing to be pitied or praised. These words weren’t shaped to shock or impress. They were written because I had nowhere else to put what I was carrying.

Everything here came after the breaking. After the silence. After I realized that surviving is one thing, but speaking is another. These pieces surfaced once I had enough breath to name what hurt without being swallowed by it.

I'm not here to scream. I'm not here to cry on command. I'm not asking you to feel anything specific.

But I hope something here makes space for you. I hope you recognize a thread of yourself in the places I once thought were unrecognizable. I hope you leave with something quieter than clarity, but deeper than noise.

You're not walking into a breakdown. You're entering something that lived through one.

Take what resonates. Leave what doesn't. Stay only as long as you need.

This space exists because it’s real.