Finding Perspective When Life Feels Dark
How to navigate heaviness, reconnect with clarity, and rediscover meaning in challenging times
It’s been months since I’ve been able to write. I’ve been sitting in a strange holding pattern, isolation, depression, anxiety, and a writer’s block that felt heavier than usual.
Normally, when I feel all of this, I write my way through it. But this time has been different. I’ve wanted nothing more than to disappear into my own cave, to be left alone, to hermit my way through life if I didn’t have a nine‑to‑five pulling me back into the world.
Even social media, my usual escape hatch, has felt exhausting. People’s drama, family dynamics, the noise of life… it all became a blur in my subconscious, leaving me numb. My holistic business slipped into the background, yet the pressure to “stay visible” lingered like a shadow.
I’m about six weeks into this isolation. Some days I feel myself coming back online; other days I retreat deeper. I’m an introvert by nature, but this has been different, darker, heavier, more consuming.
And then came the emotional setbacks. The triggers. The old wounds. The childhood memories of abandonment that still echo through my adult life.
The Weight of Old Wounds
Growing up, I never quite fit in. I spent years seeking acceptance, approval, belonging — trying to mould myself into something that made sense to the world around me.
A psychic, a black sheep, a restless gypsy soul… yet still a child who wanted to be like her family, even at the cost of her own happiness.
A lifelong people‑pleaser learning her lessons the hard way, but also someone who uses those same lessons to guide others. So maybe none of it has been wasted.
The universe has been nudging me gently, trying to show me my own light again. Trying to pull me out of the darkness so I can stand in the version of myself she already sees — the one I’m meant to share with others.
One of those nudges came through an unexpected source: a documentary on Netflix.
A Flicker of Light in the Dark
I almost missed the signs — the whispers, the nudges, the subtle guidance. But something in me caught them just in time.
One night, wrapped in my solitude, I felt the universe holding me. Supporting me. Reminding me that every soul walking this earth is held in that same embrace.
As someone who feels everything — the astrology, the collective energy, the emotions of others — it’s easy to get overwhelmed. My Leo Moon tries to summon courage, but some days I fumble. Some days I dig deep. Some days I wonder if surrender is the answer.
Not giving up — but handing over what I can no longer carry.
I still have fight left in me, but I’m terrified of the unknown. I want to know what’s coming, to plan, to prepare, to have all the “just in case” scenarios mapped out. But life doesn’t work that way.
Perspective, I remind myself.
You’re looking at it backwards again.
A Mini Awakening Within the Awakening
I’ve been on a spiritual journey for eight years now. I’ve had awakenings, dark nights, breakthroughs, and breakdowns. But this week felt like a new layer — a mini awakening inside the larger one.
Scrolling through Netflix, a documentary caught my eye: Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond. I clicked on it without thinking, and something shifted.
As I watched, my energy lifted. My vibration rose. I felt pieces of myself returning — fragments of my soul coming back online.
Jim Carrey radiated a light I recognised instantly. Even through a screen, I could feel it. His aura, his presence, his surrender to the role — it was pure divine light. My soul drank it in like water after weeks in the desert.
It was the reminder I didn’t know I needed:
You haven’t lost your light. You’ve just forgotten where it lives.
Finding Our Light Again
Carrey lost himself in that role in the most beautiful way — trusting himself, trusting the universe, trusting the process. He faced his triggers, embraced his shadow, and brought everything into unity within him.
He manifested his life with courage and surrender. He believed in his path, then let go and allowed the universe to guide him.
Watching him reminded me of something I had forgotten:
We are allowed to trust ourselves. We are allowed to trust the universe. We are allowed to become who we truly are.
His light lit up the room, the screen, and something inside me. It reminded me that even when we lose ourselves, the universe always finds a way to guide us back.
Final Thoughts
Sometimes we lose our own light. Sometimes the darkness feels safer, quieter, easier to sit in. But it’s through that darkness that we eventually find our way back.
We don’t shine for others — we shine so we can see our own path again.
The next few weeks will take courage. I’ll need to keep that spark alive, even when it feels easier to let it go out. But this is part of the awakening — the uncomfortable, confronting part that leads to expansion.
Darkness will return from time to time. That’s human. But if we can hold perspective, stay aware, and honour the lessons, the steps forward won’t feel so overwhelming.
We find our light again.
We always do.