The Thud By BigmommaJ
> “Even in the fall, there’s a lesson in the landing.”
This piece came from one of my darker moments — a place of exhaustion, loneliness, and deep emotional pain. Writing has always been my release, my way of making sense of the chaos within. Sometimes, I write what I can’t bring myself to say out loud.
If you’ve ever felt too tired to keep going, too broken to stand, or too unseen to be heard — this is for you. You are not alone in your fall, and you are not the only one yearning for peace.
The Thud
There are mornings I don’t want to wake up anymore. Not because I’ve given up, but because I’m tired — tired in a way that sleep can’t fix. Tired of pretending I’m okay when everything inside of me aches for peace.
I’ve learned there’s a difference between wanting to die and being too tired to live. One is a wish for escape. The other is a cry for stillness — a desperate need for the pain to stop echoing through your soul.
Peace. That’s all I ever wanted. Not the kind that sits in quiet rooms, but the kind that silences the war inside — the one that keeps you questioning your worth, your purpose, your will to keep going.
Sometimes the pain gets so deep that I stop feeling it. I move through my days numb, detached, watching life unfold around me like I’m not really a part of it. Then, without warning, I fall — emotionally, mentally, spiritually.
And when I fall, I hit the ground with a thud.
People see it, maybe even hear it. But they keep walking. Not because they don’t care — sometimes they just don’t know what to do with another person’s pain. Still, it hurts. It hurts to be visible enough to be noticed but invisible enough not to matter.
I lay there — tongue-tied, exhausted, and broken — whispering to myself, “Why couldn’t I have just died?”
That’s the kind of honesty we don’t like to say out loud, isn’t it? The kind that makes others uncomfortable. But it’s real. It’s human. It’s the truth of what it feels like when the weight within becomes too heavy to carry.
I’ve been tired of falling.
Tired of surviving when I no longer feel alive.
Tired of carrying a burden that never seems to ease.
But in the stillness — somewhere between surrender and survival — a small whisper stirs: “You’re still here.”
And maybe that means something. Maybe peace doesn’t come from the absence of pain, but from learning to breathe through it. Maybe surviving another day is its own quiet victory.
If you’re reading this and you’ve fallen too — if you’ve hit the ground so hard that you can’t see the point in standing back up — I want you to know something:
You are not alone.
You are seen, even when the world feels blind.
And there is still a reason your heart keeps beating.
One day, that thud won’t be the sound of your fall — it will be the sound of you grounding yourself, rebuilding yourself, and finally finding peace within.
If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out.
In Canada, you can call or text 988 (Suicide Crisis Helpline) for free, 24/7 support.
You matter. Your story matters. And there is hope — even here.
Author’s Note
I wrote this piece during a moment when I felt completely lost — when the weight of everything I’d been carrying felt too heavy to hold. Writing became my way of releasing the ache I couldn’t speak out loud.
If you’ve ever felt like that too — please know, you are not weak for feeling tired. You are not broken for wanting peace. You are human. And even in your darkest moments, you are worthy of healing, love, and light.
Keep holding on, even if it’s only by a thread.
Because one day, you’ll look back and realize — that thread was stronger than you ever knew.
— With love and understanding,
BigmommaJ
#MentalHealth #loveyourself