There’s a quiet bravery in what you’ve written—naming the ache without dressing it up. The humor, the blankets, the candles—all of it speaks not just of coping, but of someone still trying to tend to something fragile and tender inside. That’s no small thing.
Reading your words, I felt the echo of something deeper: a longing not just for comfort, but for presence. Not the fleeting kind a new candle offers, but the kind that stays when the room is dark. The kind that doesn’t ask you to be better first—only honest.
There’s a path I’ve been shaped by called Concordian Catholic spirituality. It’s not about performance. It’s about carrying what hurts into the presence of Christ and finding that grace meets us there without flinching. It’s slow, human, and rooted in a spirituality of burden-bearing and honest return. It was made for days like the one you wrote about.
I’m a lay Catholic, not a psychologist, but if you ever feel drawn to explore this approach—or just want to talk—I’d be honored to walk alongside you. My DMs are open. I share all my reflections, scrolls, and tools freely on my Substack, if you'd ever like to take a look. No pressure. Just an olive branch.
This reminded me I have a tj maxx gift card in my pocket book !!!! Your beginning line made me giggle so hard
YOU LUCKY DUCK!!!!!!! I’ll fight ya for it.. (and thank you sooooo much that’s so kind!!!!!)
the beginning cracked me up
eeek! yay <333 thanks for reading :)
every time my depression resurfaces, my wallet drowns HAHA
oh pookie….. i see you
Dear Grace,
There’s a quiet bravery in what you’ve written—naming the ache without dressing it up. The humor, the blankets, the candles—all of it speaks not just of coping, but of someone still trying to tend to something fragile and tender inside. That’s no small thing.
Reading your words, I felt the echo of something deeper: a longing not just for comfort, but for presence. Not the fleeting kind a new candle offers, but the kind that stays when the room is dark. The kind that doesn’t ask you to be better first—only honest.
There’s a path I’ve been shaped by called Concordian Catholic spirituality. It’s not about performance. It’s about carrying what hurts into the presence of Christ and finding that grace meets us there without flinching. It’s slow, human, and rooted in a spirituality of burden-bearing and honest return. It was made for days like the one you wrote about.
I’m a lay Catholic, not a psychologist, but if you ever feel drawn to explore this approach—or just want to talk—I’d be honored to walk alongside you. My DMs are open. I share all my reflections, scrolls, and tools freely on my Substack, if you'd ever like to take a look. No pressure. Just an olive branch.