Psychiatric Services, LLC

01/08/2026

01/08/2026

01/02/2026

“I Survived Things No One Saw This Year…”
I survived things
no one saw this year.

Conversations I rehearsed
a hundred times in my head.
Prayers whispered so quietly
I wasn’t sure anyone heard them.

I smiled when it was easier than explaining.
I showed up when staying home
would’ve felt safer.
I carried things
I never planned to carry.

There were days
I held it together in public
and fell apart in private.
Nights when sleep wouldn’t come
because my mind kept replaying
what I wished I’d said
or what I didn’t know how to fix.

No one saw the strength it took
to keep going.
To forgive.
To let go.
To accept what couldn’t be changed.

No one saw the grief
that didn’t have a funeral.
The fear that didn’t have words.
The loneliness that showed up
even in full rooms.

But I survived it.

I learned that healing isn’t loud.
That strength doesn’t always roar.
Sometimes it looks like getting up again.
Sometimes it looks like choosing peace.
Sometimes it looks like staying soft
in a world that keeps hardening.

So if this year feels heavy,
remember this:

You are still here.

You lived through things
you didn’t think you could.
You became stronger
without asking to be.

And that matters.

As this new year begins,
I’m not asking myself
to be more.

I’m honoring the fact
that I survived.

And that
is enough. 🤍

12/26/2025

If I ever stood face to face with my younger self, I’d stay silent.

Words would only get in the way. She’s heard enough words—empty promises, sharp criticisms, whispers that made her feel small. She doesn’t need more.

No speeches. No lessons.
She already learned the hard way. She already absorbed the world through bruised knees and a tender heart. Anything I could tell her, she’s already living. And she’s doing it with a courage she doesn’t yet recognize.

I’d wrap my arms around her and let her feel safe, even if only for a moment.
Let her shoulders drop. Let her breathe without guarding her heart. Let her be held without wondering what it will cost her. She deserved that then. She still does now.

That little girl carried more than she should have. She lived through pain that could have shattered most people.

But it didn’t shatter her. It sculpted her. Carved out depths where empathy now lives. Hardened places into strength. Left scars that she would later learn to speak through.

And yet, she kept her heart. She kept her strength.

She didn’t turn cold. She didn’t become cruel. However quietly, however fiercely—she loved anyway. She hoped anyway. She showed up, again and again, even when showing up felt like walking into the wind.

She grew into someone resilient, compassionate, and real.
Not perfect. Not untouched. But true. A woman who knows how to hold space for others because she once needed someone to hold it for her. A woman who recognizes strength because she had to dig for her own.

And that alone makes everything she survived mean something.
It wasn’t for nothing. It was for her. For the person she became.

And if I could, I’d tell her without saying a word—that I am proud to be her future.

That she was worth every hard day.
That she still is.

12/25/2025

You’ll never feel 100% ready.

Do it anyway.

Readiness is something you build by trying, not by waiting.

12/25/2025

Carry it anyway.

12/25/2025

'Focus on understanding yourself instead of blaming others.'

12/25/2025

You don’t need to dim your light to make others comfortable. Speak, express, and exist unapologetically.

12/25/2025

'No one can create anger or stress within you. Only you can do that by virtue of how you process your world.'

12/25/2025

This Christmas Eve, remember: persistence is never wasted when God is involved.
God renews those who refuse to quit. ✨

12/25/2025

A reminder to honor where you are while trusting where you’re headed. 🦋

Try repeating this affirmation out loud as you Tap along the collarbone point a few times and feel the words truly sink in. ✨