For over a year, I have felt lost—adrift in a life I never planned, searching for solid ground beneath my feet. The path I once walked so confidently has crumbled beneath the weight of responsibilities I never expected to carry alone.
Tim’s struggle with PNES has been an unrelenting storm, unpredictable and unforgiving. Every seizure, every moment of uncertainty, reminds me that life can change in an instant, and no amount of preparation can shield you from it. And yet, there is no hesitation in my love, no question about standing beside him through it all. He is my heart, my partner, and though the road is hard, I would never choose any other.
But love doesn’t erase exhaustion. It doesn’t make the weight of being the sole income and caregiver any lighter. The demands of work press down on me, consuming time, energy, and the remnants of a spirit already stretched thin. I push forward because I must—because survival doesn’t pause for heartache or fatigue.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped dreaming of the future. I used to see it clearly, filled with possibilities and plans, but now, I can’t even picture what’s ahead. It’s as if I’ve been walking through the fog for so long that I’ve forgotten what the sun looks like.
And yet… somewhere in the chaos, in the exhaustion, in the moments of doubt, I am learning something unexpected. I am learning that being lost does not mean being defeated. That strength isn’t always about standing tall—it’s about continuing forward, even when your legs shake beneath you.
I am finding resilience I didn’t know I had. I am finding love in the quiet moments, in the way Tim reaches for my hand even after the hardest days. I am finding hope in the smallest things—a deep breath, a sunrise, a fleeting moment of peace.
Maybe I don’t need to see the future right now. Maybe all I need to do is take the next step, and then another, and trust that in time, the path will become clear again.
I am not who I was a year ago. But maybe, just maybe, I am becoming something even stronger.
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