🌟 *Belonging is born not from silent strength, but from the brave, imperfect act of reaching out—especially when the mind insists you must endure alone.* The world’s everyday dramas—a siren, a burnt casserole, a friend’s passing meme—keep spinning around us, seemingly indifferent to our private storms. Anna, accustomed to carrying her burdens quietly, finds her nights haunted by looping worries: the excruciating replay of old conversations, the sharp ache of chest pain, the frantic “what ifs” of the future. The more she hides, the heavier it becomes, as if solitude itself grows teeth in the darkness. 💔⚡️