…..Some bring ideas, some bring feelings, and a few bring worries that overstay their welcome. It can be a little loud in there sometimes.

And like many people, I’ve had days when my mind feels especially noisy. I’m someone who tends to overthink — where ideas, emotions, and words easily spill over their edges.

There have also been seasons when my heart felt deeply tired… a little cracked, a little heavy. Then came the hardest season of all — the sudden loss of my beloved mom. I lost her on an airplane, and losing someone in such an unexpected way changes something inside you forever. In those shocking moments, some of the friends I loved the most felt a little harsh toward me. I know they didn’t mean to be. Grief can be confusing for everyone, not just the person carrying it. But still… it hurt.

Because I’ve always been someone who tries to be humble and considerate, I began to worry that my sadness might be disturbing their peace or taking up too much space. So quietly, I stepped away for a while. Some friends even said they were afraid of my sadness, or that I was thinking too negatively. Strangely, I understood them. But their words also awakened something important in me.

That realization didn’t arrive like a dramatic movie scene. It came slowly — First came the emotions. Then came what I jokingly call the main course . — “panic attacks”. Later, kind mentors explained that what I was experiencing were grief-related panic symptoms: a pounding heart, shaking hands, a body that suddenly forgets how to relax. My mind would race with fear, sometimes even forgetting how to breathe properly. I became afraid of flying, afraid to open social media, even afraid to look at photos of my mom. Little things I once loved suddenly felt unfamiliar.

During those days, my loud brain whisper to me constantly.
Sometimes it sounded like worry, like self-blame, sometimes it repeated the voices of other people ( only ones that hurt ). — even though there are many supporting family and friends surrounding.

But somewhere beneath all that noise… there was a friend inside, 

The voice that gently reminded me to Breathe…. that said, “You are doing fine.” …..that whispered, “Be a little kinder to yourself today.”  

It took time, patience, and many quiet conversations with that softer voice inside my loud brain. But slowly, I began to understand something important

Even when the mind feels noisy, even when grief fills the room, there is still a small corner inside us where healing begins —  And Here I am, started writing, creating little pieces of art & be kinder to myself. Not because everything was suddenly fixed, but because each small creation felt like reminding back my good old days… letting a little more light, color & conversation into my loud brain.