When Life Knocks You Down: A Personal Note on Stress, Numbness & Healing

You’re not alone. Here’s what I’ve been moving through—and why it matters for all of us.

Hello my people,

I want to talk to you from a place that’s still a little raw.

Lately, I’ve been carrying this deep anxiety, and honestly, it’s been building up from trying to manage way too many stressors at once. You know that feeling when everything seems like too much, but somehow, you're still expected to function? That’s where I’ve been. And I know I’m not the only one. The reality is—we are all going through it. Life is heavy. The responsibility of just being alive, showing up every day, holding yourself together… it can feel unbearable sometimes.

April, in particular, nearly knocked me over. It brought a wave of personal challenges that pulled me into a dark emotional space I hadn’t been in for years. I didn’t see it coming the way it came. One thing after another. Back-to-back hits. There were moments I felt completely disconnected from myself—numb. Like I couldn’t even feel my own emotions anymore. It was like having empty holes in my chest. Have you ever been there?

For me, that numbness isn’t obvious on the outside. I’m the kind of person who knows how to redirect my attention to other people—friends, family, work, or even strangers. I keep moving, keep giving, keep helping. It’s second nature. I was trained to do that. My parents taught me that kind of care. My career reinforced it. And the expectations I carry as a woman, as a leader, as someone people count on—it’s a constant push to hold it all in place.

But sometimes, even the strongest people break.

I remember waking up one day and praying—just begging for peace. Praying for a break. Asking God, “Please… just let me breathe for a minute.” And it felt like every time I opened my eyes, another tragedy hit. Another disappointment. Another heavy moment. When does it stop?

Normally, I’m good at managing stress. I’m a strategist at heart. I get up, I assess the situation, and I adjust. But this past weekend? I hit a wall. I had a complete breakdown. I wasn’t myself. I went completely numb and started reacting to things in ways that didn’t make sense—even to me. The tiniest comments set me off. I went from zero to 99.5. And that’s not like me. I usually have a high threshold for pressure. I’ve trained myself to stay in control, to stay composed.

But even knowing that about myself, I didn’t connect what was happening to an anxiety attack. And here’s the thing—I’ve studied this for nine years. Nine years of learning about trauma, mental health, the nervous system. You’d think I could name it when it was happening to me. But that’s the tricky part about being human. There’s a huge difference between knowing something intellectually and feeling it in your body. In the moment, all that training flew out the window.

And truthfully? Accepting that I’m struggling is one of the hardest things for me. The second I feel weak; my instinct is to act tougher. It’s like a protective shield. I pretend I’ve got it handled, which just pushes me further from facing what’s really going on. That’s what denial does. It convinces you that everything’s fine, even when your body is screaming for you to stop.

A few days ago, I snapped at the ones I love deeply. Not because of what they said. Honestly, they didn’t even do anything wrong. I just broke under the pressure. I was overwhelmed, exhausted, and holding way more than I had words for. My reaction came from pain—not from them.

And after a little space, I started to understand: 

It wasn’t about them. 

It was stress. 

It was the pressure of trying to hold it all together. 

It was the emotional buildup from things I hadn’t slowed down to process.

That moment made me realize something important: 

Stress doesn’t always look like burnout or breakdown. It’s not always lying in bed crying. Sometimes, it shows up as irritability. Sometimes it looks like being quiet, zoning out, forgetting things—or snapping at someone when you don’t mean to.

So, if you’ve found yourself reacting in ways you regret lately, let me say this to you with love: 

You’re not weak. You’re not failing. 

You’re just human.

And sometimes your body and mind are doing everything they can to tell you that something isn’t right. That you need care. That you're carrying too much.

We’ve got to start talking about this more openly—not just with friends or in safe little circles, but in the workplace too. Mental health isn’t separate from what we do. It’s the foundation for everything we’re able to do.

After this episode, some people I deeply love and trust told me, “You need to take a break. You need to disconnect.” But in that moment, even that felt like too much. Self-care sounded like more work.

And then I remembered what it felt like to be in the middle of that anxiety attack—shaking uncontrollably, not knowing how to stop. Nothing could be worse than that. So I chose to listen.

I unplugged. I packed my things and went up to the mountains. I turned off my phone. I disconnected from the world. I sat with myself. I sat with the silence. With nature. With the wind. With my thoughts. With everything I hadn’t allowed myself to feel.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t instantly healing. But it was necessary. I needed to get honest with myself and really sit in what brought me to that breaking point.

It’s never easy to say out loud—or even admit to yourself—that you’re not okay. That you feel lost. Weak. Stuck. But the second you do? That’s where healing begins. That’s where something sacred happens.

So, if you’ve been carrying too much, if you’ve been feeling like you’re about to snap, I want to invite you to do what I did:

Pause. 

Take a moment to breathe. 

Disconnect if you need to. 

Find something—anything—that brings you back to you.

Whether it’s journaling, praying, walking in nature, crying in the shower, or just sitting in silence with a hot cup of tea… do it.

Because the truth is—we are all under stress. Every single one of us. And sometimes the bravest thing you can do is slow down and take care of yourself first.

So, here’s my challenge to you this week: 

Whatever you’ve got to do to reconnect with yourself—do it. Don’t wait. Don’t brush it off. Your wholeness is worth the effort.

With love, 

Epiphany 

Speaker. Storyteller. Survivor. Sister on this journey.

🔁 If this resonated with you, forward it to a friend. We heal louder when we heal together.

📝 Reply and tell me—how have you been holding up lately? I read every message.