From burnout to breakthrough.

MissT

From Breakdown to Breakthrough

How It Started vs. How I’m Healing

I didn’t start this blog because I was healed.
I started it because I was breaking — quietly, violently, invisibly.
Writing was the only way I didn’t disappear.

I was exhausted. Shaking.
Sitting up in bed at 2 a.m., tapping out poems with a phone light on, heart racing from panic attacks and buried truth.
I had just told the man I loved that I didn’t believe a word he said anymore.
And the worst part?
I meant it.
But a small, aching part of me still wanted him to prove me wrong.

I wasn’t writing to be brave.
I was writing to survive.
To scream silently. To bleed with rhythm.
To stitch myself back together — one line at a time.

Somewhere between Chapter 1 and my last poem, something shifted.
I stopped writing just to bleed.
I started writing to heal.

This blog became more than my venting space.
It became my voice.
And when you started reading — when strangers found my words and whispered “me too” —
I realised I wasn’t alone anymore.
None of us are.

I’m still healing. Don’t let the lipstick fool you.
I still ache. I still cry. I still have days where I stare at the ceiling wondering how the hell I got through it all.
But here’s the difference:

I don’t beg anymore.
I don’t chase closure from people who can’t spell it.
I don’t apologise for being “too much” — especially not to men who gave me far too little.

I write. I rise.
I honour the woman who crawled through that wreckage and said, “Not like this.”

So if you’re reading this from the middle of your own mess — stay.
Write your way through it.
We don’t heal neatly.
We heal messy. Loud. Public, if we must.

But we do heal.

MissT x

This post is a personal reflection on emotional recovery. It is not intended to identify or harm any individual.