After a year, it was finally time to shift to a new house. Even though I knew this change was necessary, my heart felt heavy. The place we were leaving held so many memories, but deep inside, I also felt a strange negativity surrounding it. Maybe it was just my emotions, or maybe something about that house carried a vibe that no longer felt right.
My parents came to help us with the move, making the process a little easier. Everything went smoothly, but deep down, I wasn’t truly happy. I kept telling myself, this is for the better, and I had to accept it. After settling into the new place, we spent some quality time with my family, cherishing the moments before they had to leave the next day.
As soon as they left, an uneasy feeling crept in. My body started feeling weak, and soon, I fell sick—high fever, vomiting, and an overwhelming sense of discomfort. At first, I thought it was just exhaustion from the move, but something felt different. There was a strange restlessness, a fear creeping in that I couldn't explain.
What I didn’t realize then was that anxiety was hitting me again. But I still had no idea that what I was experiencing had a name...
Days passed, and I was still feeling uneasy. Even though my fever had gone down, my body felt weak, and my mind was filled with unnecessary fears. I couldn’t sleep properly, my appetite was gone, and simple daily tasks felt so difficult. I kept asking myself, Why am I feeling like this?
I tried distracting myself by arranging the house, cooking, and keeping myself busy, but the anxious thoughts wouldn't leave me. Every time my husband left for work, I would feel lonely and trapped in my own emotions. I wanted to tell someone, but I didn’t even know how to explain it. Was I just overthinking? Was this normal?
Even in moments of happiness, a part of me still felt lost. It was like I was fighting a silent battle within myself that no one could see. But despite all of this, I kept going—hoping that one day, I would finally understand what was really happening to me.
Then, for a whole week, I kept feeling unwell. No matter what I did, my body just wouldn’t recover. That’s when my mom decided to come again all the way from my hometown to take care of me.
The moment I saw her, something inside me felt lighter. It was like her presence alone was enough to calm my restless heart. Slowly, I started to feel better—not just physically but emotionally too. I began to feel normal again, like myself. With her around, I didn’t feel alone, and the fear that had been lingering inside me seemed to fade away.
After a few days, my mom had to return home, and I knew I had to manage things on my own again. But this time, I felt okay. Life slowly went back to normal. My husband and I spent quality time together, creating beautiful moments. I found joy in simple things—cooking meals, cleaning the house, and watching movies.
Even when I was alone during the day, I was happy. I started to enjoy my routine, feeling a sense of comfort in my home. It felt like things were finally falling into place, and for the first time in a long time, I truly felt at peace.
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