Is This A Breakdown, Or A Breakthrough

This piece poured out of me on a day when nothing made sense, and yet everything inside me said: this matters.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re unraveling, but somewhere deep inside you know you’re being remade — this is for you.

Not to fix. Not to pathologize.

But to witness.

You’re not broken. You’re remembering.

And this?

This is important.

There are moments in life when the line between what’s visible and invisible begins to blur — and suddenly, everything we trusted begins to feel less certain, less fixed.

What looks like a breakdown from the outside may, from the inside, feel like a rush of truth too big to hold all at once.

Modern medicine has many names for these moments. Some helpful. Some reductive.

But what if — just what if — these experiences weren’t signs of something wrong, but signals of something beginning?

What if the anxiety, the sleepless nights, the sudden tears, the vivid dreams or strange coincidences… weren’t symptoms to fear, but invitations to listen more closely?

What if your system isn’t failing — it’s recalibrating?

For many, these awakenings don’t begin with light and peace. They begin with grief. Disorientation. A feeling of being unhinged.

And in a world that often values productivity over presence, and logic over intuition, these states can be quickly labeled as “too much,” “too sensitive,” or even “unwell.”

When in fact —we may just be waking up to what’s real.

I’ve lived this, too — the moments where everything familiar unraveled. Where I couldn’t explain what was happening inside me, only that it felt like something old was leaving and something truer was trying to find its way in.

There were nights I wondered if I was losing my mind. Days where the world felt too loud, too sharp, too disconnected.

But somewhere beneath the chaos, I could sense a pulse — quiet but steady — that said:

“Keep going. You’re not breaking. You’re remembering. This is important.”

And lately, I’ve seen that I’m not alone in this.

There’s a quiet revolution happening —one where science is finally beginning to catch up to what the soul has always known.

Neuroscience is studying neuroplasticity. Somatic therapies are honoring the body’s wisdom. Quantum physics is whispering what the mystics always said:

We’re more connected than we’ve been taught to believe.

What used to be labeled as crisis or dysfunction is now being revisited through a gentler lens —one that sees breakdowns as thresholds. As initiations. As awakenings.

I didn’t get here by bypassing the hard parts. I got here by sitting with the discomfort, by asking the questions no one had answers for, and by slowly, tenderly learning to trust my inner knowing again —even when it didn’t make sense to anyone else.

This path of remembering — of reweaving what was once torn —is not linear. It’s messy. It’s luminous.

It asks for gentleness and discernment in equal measure.

There were times I thought I was unraveling. Maybe even losing touch.

But in truth, I was meeting a part of myself I’d forgotten —a wiser, older truth that had been waiting for me beneath all the noise.

If you’re walking that edge — between what was and what’s emerging —I want you to know this:

You’re not alone. You’re not broken. You’re not crazy. You’re not too much. You’re not making it up.

You’re awakening. You’re shedding old skins. You’re becoming someone your past self wouldn’t recognize — and that’s okay.

There are languages deeper than words. There are maps made of memory and light. And there are others — quietly walking alongside you —learning to see in the dark, just like you.

Keep going. You’re not breaking. You’re remembering shit. This is important.