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They say time heals all wounds, but time has no hands.
Grief doesn’t move in straight lines. It crashes like waves.
For many, the loss is recent. Raw. And they’re left sitting in the wreckage—unable to sleep, eat, or breathe normally. The world continues, but they are still paused at the moment everything changed.
This is for them. For the ones who whisper, “I don’t know how to go on.” and for the ones holding space for them.
Physical rehab gave me movement—but emotional recovery gave me breath.
There’s another side to healing that doesn’t get measured in mobility scores or strength tests. It’s the quiet work, the hidden work, of learning to live again after trauma. Of waking up every day with a mind still on high alert, a heart still guarding, and a soul still scanning for safety. This is for those still climbing—the ones who feel like their emotional injuries are taking longer than their physical ones. You’re not behind. You’re rebuilding.
