I feel your pain

religion, spirituality, christianity · EN

On August 2nd 2022, I held his hand, the same way I did on our wedding day, when he took his last breath. Exactly one year later, I woke up paralysed, struck by FND. This is not therapy. It is raw, sacred survival. A sanctuary for shattered souls, where grief howls, rage prays, and healing is slow and shared. No platitudes. No pressure to “overcome.” Just real stories, real scars, and a voice whispering: “Me too. This still hurts. Let us sit in the holy dark together.” Welcome to a sanctuary for shattered souls: Where grief is not fixed, it is honoured. Where pain is not silenced, it is sung. Here, we lament loudly, not with advice, but with Psalm-style howls. We honour wounds that still throb…I am not “healed”; I am healing beside you. We reclaim broken dates, August 2nd: death → paralysis → resurre