The noise within Silence

Lately, I’ve realized something that’s hard to admit: I’ve been keeping myself busy just to avoid facing the truth. I stay occupied with tasks, plans, distractions—anything to keep my mind from sitting still. Because the moment it does, I’m hit with the reality I’ve been trying to escape— that I feel completely alone.

The silence around me isn’t peaceful. It’s loud. It carries everything I’ve pushed aside—memories, regrets, pain, loneliness. It’s not a lack of sound. It’s the presence of every unanswered question, every suppressed emotion, every version of me I’ve ignored to keep going.

Some problems don’t have solutions. I’m beginning to understand that now. You just live with them. You find a way to function around them. You keep yourself busy. You tell yourself you’ve got bigger things to deal with. And somewhere in the middle of all that noise and motion, you forget what you even want.

I’ve been working hard, chasing things I’m not even sure I care about. And I think deep down, it’s because achieving feels safer than feeling. Progress feels like a distraction from the emptiness. But no matter how fast I go, the silence always catches up. And when it does, it’s overwhelming.

I’m tired. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay. Tired of pushing through. Tired of avoiding what hurts. The silence knows that. It reminds me. And maybe it’s time I start listening, even if it’s hard.

This isn’t a story with a happy ending or a breakthrough. It’s just the truth as I feel it. If you’re in the same place—surrounded by noise, yet feeling alone—I see you. You’re not weak for feeling this way. You’re just human. And sometimes, that’s the hardest thing to be.