Disappearing Without Leaving

Start by staying still. Don't look for music, or light, or distractions. Sadness arrives more easily. when it doesn't have to compete with anything.

Sit where you always sit when you can't take it anymore: that corner of the bed that knows your weight bether than anyone. Rest your hands on your legs, as you need to remind yourself that you're still here.

Then, let the silence name you. Don't interrupt it. Sadness is a quiet voice, one you can only hear when you finally surrender to listening.

Fix your eyes on a point on the wall. Don't think about anything yet. Just notice how the world is still there, even if you're pieces. Sometimes sadness begins when you accept that nothing stopped for you.

When the first memory appears, don't push it away. Let it come closer slowly, like a wounded animal afraid you'll abandon it again. Don't touch it. Just watch it until it stops trembling.

It hurts, breathe. Not to calm yourself, but to make space. Sadness needs a place to stay without breaking your ribs.

When the tears come, let them fall without apology. Don't wipe your face. Don't hide your voice. Sadness is also a way of staying "I still feel."

And when the weight in your chest becomes a little less sharp, when you can move you fingers without the world shaking, stand up slowly, like someone picking up something fragile they're not sure they can save.

Final step: be grateful you survived another night. Sometimes, that's all you can do. Sometimes, that's enough.