Lately, a lot of things in my life are going right, and yet, instead of feeling joy or peace, I find myself bracing for impact. It’s like my nervous system never got the memo that it’s safe to exhale.

9:00 am

I should be asleep right now. I worked all night and I am sleepy and tired.

Instead, I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling, my heart doing that subtle-but-ominous thumping thing it does when my thoughts start sprinting up a hill. And tonight, they’re drumming with a new kind of dread, not because things are bad, but because, for once, they’re actually…

Good.

That’s the part that messes with me.

Work is going well. I’m writing, and using AI to help me create content. I’m treated with respect and my boss loves me. What more could you ask for out of a job?

As far as my personal brand, I’m writing and building cool things. I’ve got momentum, ideas, even a little bit of recognition. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m stepping into the version of myself I’ve always seen in glimpses, the one who writes boldly, creates with intention, and maybe even makes a living doing it.

So why the hell does it feel like something terrible is just around the corner?

It’s like my brain — my overcautious, pattern-seeking, trauma-seasoned brain — doesn’t know how to process stability. Like it’s waiting for the twist in the plot.

The job vanishing. A health scare. Something going sideways with my family. Some vague, looming loss.

And I get it. I’ve been through enough seasons of collapse to know that good things don’t always last. But I’m also starting to wonder if this protective instinct has outlived its usefulness, if it’s just an old alarm system going off every time I dare to feel secure.

I don’t want to live like that anymore.

I don’t want to ruin the rare, beautiful moments of peace because I’m too busy rehearsing pain that hasn’t arrived. I don’t want to stay small just because it feels safer than trusting the good.

So here’s what I’m working on, slowly, imperfectly, and probably forever:

I’m trying to let myself enjoy what’s good without demanding it prove itself permanent.

I’m trying to sleep when I’m tired, instead of running catastrophe simulations in my head like they’re somehow protective.

I’m trying to believe that not all calm is the eye of a storm.

Because maybe the real danger isn’t that the good won’t last. Maybe the danger is that I never let myself feel it at all.

And tonight, even if it’s just for a few deep breaths, I’m choosing to feel it.