I don’t know why, but for the past few hours, I’ve just been reading through your posts and comments...

I have a wonderful son, a loving husband, and supportive family. And yet, for a long time, I stayed trapped in my bed. I couldn't move, I didn't want to move, and I didn't wash for months. My soul was nothing more than a field of ruins.

In March 2025, my firstborn son turned 18 years and 1 month old... and he chose to leave this world, exhausted by his mental suffering. With him, a part of my very core was ripped away. But before he left, he gave me one last wish:

« Keep living! If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me! »

For the past year and a half, I’ve been trying to follow his advice. I started stepping outside. I volunteered at the local tourism office, spent time at the library, and got involved in community gardens... Sometimes, I still 'disappear' without a word, just to catch my breath. It’s a constant battle between my willpower and my damaged brain.

To me, life is like nature: sometimes the fog is so thick you can’t see 100 meters ahead. But if you just take a step, you can always see the next 5 meters... You don't need to see any further. Just enough to keep moving, and of course, to avoid stepping in something nasty.

If I’m writing to you tonight, it’s not to give advice—I don't have any. I just wanted to tell you that in the thick fog of life, we often think we are all alone. But it’s just the fog tricking us, hiding how close we are standing next to one another.

Dare to step outside. Move forward step by step, no matter how small. Distance is an illusion; human souls always manage to touch.

Question

I don’t know why, but for the past few hours, I’ve just been reading through your posts and comments...

I have a wonderful son, a loving husband, and supportive family. And yet, for a long time, I stayed trapped in my bed. I couldn't move, I didn't want to move, and I didn't wash for months. My soul was nothing more than a field of ruins.

In March 2025, my firstborn son turned 18 years and 1 month old... and he chose to leave this world, exhausted by his mental suffering. With him, a part of my very core was ripped away. But before he left, he gave me one last wish:

« Keep living! If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me! »

For the past year and a half, I’ve been trying to follow his advice. I started stepping outside. I volunteered at the local tourism office, spent time at the library, and got involved in community gardens... Sometimes, I still 'disappear' without a word, just to catch my breath. It’s a constant battle between my willpower and my damaged brain.

To me, life is like nature: sometimes the fog is so thick you can’t see 100 meters ahead. But if you just take a step, you can always see the next 5 meters... You don't need to see any further. Just enough to keep moving, and of course, to avoid stepping in something nasty.

If I’m writing to you tonight, it’s not to give advice—I don't have any. I just wanted to tell you that in the thick fog of life, we often think we are all alone. But it’s just the fog tricking us, hiding how close we are standing next to one another.

Dare to step outside. Move forward step by step, no matter how small. Distance is an illusion; human souls always manage to touch.

Anonymous Practitioner · Accepted Answer

I am so sorry for your loss. That is incredibly difficult, but you are incredibly brave for expressing yourself here. You are not alone. You are an inspiration.