As I was reflecting on my week and looking at the several threads I had already written, a sense of unease arose in me.

What felt true last Wednesday no longer feels true on Monday…

Earlier in the week, I had a great topic: getting lost in the abyss of the self while holding a nihilistic perspective. That sounded rich and honest.

But the week passed.
The weather changed.
The sun came back.

My kids returned, and we had the kind of rich and intense conversations I love.
My therapist held me in the depth of my sadness.
And the mood picked up.

Today, the mood is lighter.
Today, the abyss doesn’t feel so dark anymore — and it’s no longer just about the self. Others have been included in that reflection.
The nihilistic perspective doesn’t feel as gripping anymore.
Maybe there is sense to all of this after all.
Maybe it was just a trick of my mind.

I don’t know.
The not knowing still feels very true.
But it feels lighter.
Today, I can breathe better.
The overwhelm has distanced itself from my being.

There’s something disorienting about that — a kind of instability in the self.
How do I write from a place that doesn’t feel real at the moment I write?
How do I share something when I can’t even tell what’s real?

Still, there’s a desire to share.
Not from clarity, but from within the transition.
From the inner depths of this dark night of the soul — which, it turns out, has lighter days. Lighter weeks.

There’s a desire to share that the light does come back, even if only for a short moment.
There’s the hope that this instability will ease. That the truth of who I am and what I believe in will become clearer as the fog dissipates. As this new life stabilizes.

Some days, the hope feels very tenuous — like yet another illusion that will be shattered.
But today, the hope feels real.
And I’m choosing to believe that liberation is just around the corner — or maybe, already beginning.

If you’ve ever felt like the fog might never lift — and then found yourself surprised by the sun — I’d love to hear about it. How do you stay close to hope, even when it flickers?