Survival Isn't Always Loud
Survival Isn't Always Loud:
People who don’t know your struggles will always have an opinion. They’ll offer commentary on your life with confidence — despite knowing nothing about the hell you’ve endured to keep going. Let them talk. You don’t owe them an explanation.
Keep going — not to prove them wrong. You already do that by existing, by breathing, by standing back up every time life knocks you down. Keep going to prove to yourself that even in the darkest moments, you're still capable of building something better.
This week, I started antidepressants.
Not because I’m weak. But because I’ve had enough. Enough abuse. Enough judgement. Enough people twisting the truth and calling it justice. I’m trying to build a good life, despite it all — despite a world that seems to reward cruelty and punish survival.
I don’t stay at home much anymore. Not because I don’t want to. Because I can’t. My street hasn’t been safe for a long time. The people around me — strangers, neighbours, even those who once smiled — turned on me. They judged me, lied about me, supported abusers, and treated my pain as if it were a nuisance.
Today, the police rang. Following up on my car being keyed — twice. And for what? Because I had the audacity to park in my own driveway. My own space. After over a decade of being housebound — after years of others using my driveway like it belonged to them while I was too unwell to stop them — I finally took it back. And somehow, I’m the problem?
I’m supposed to stay silent. To stay small. To not react when people disrespect me. To be grateful for scraps and pretend it doesn’t hurt when grown adults behave like bullies. Apparently, if I respond to injustice with anything other than calm indifference, I’m “difficult.” “Dramatic.” “Deserving.”
How dare I show emotion. How dare I be affected by years of harm. How dare I not be perfectly stoic in the face of abuse.
I wasn’t even at home today — and still the consequences keep finding me.
I’ve tried to stay away. To keep myself safe. To avoid conflict. But even that’s not enough. Even silence gets twisted. Even distance gets punished. Grown men are still targeting me online, trying to provoke me, trying to shame me for not playing their game.
All because I stood up for myself. All because I stopped making myself small to protect people who never once protected me.
I can’t change my street. I can’t undo the damage or force people to see the truth. But I can keep choosing myself. I can keep doing the hard thing — the right thing — by staying away from those who harm me. I can take my meds, keep healing, keep growing, even when everything feels unfair.
People will keep siding with the loudest voice. The familiar face. The comfortable lie. Let them.
I’ll keep siding with the truth. With my survival. With the version of me that is still standing — not because it’s been easy, but because I refuse to go down without a fight.
I keep going - because I want to see what I can make of my life, and that's all I'll keep doing.
Sarah ❤️
Image: a statement from my acting page: black writing on a white background that states: "People who don't know your struggles will always have a misguided opinion about you - keep going - not to prove them wrong as you do that daily anyway - but to prove to yourself you can achieve things even when life is difficult. ❤️"
