My dreams have always been vivid.

Not ordinary dreams that disappear the moment morning arrives, but the kind that stay clinging to me long after I open my eyes.

I never wake slowly.

It feels more like someone flicks a light switch on inside my body and suddenly I am fully awake, heart racing, mind searching, trying to understand what I just saw.

And then I spend most of the next day replaying it.

Trying to decode it.

Not because it is some unhealthy obsession, but because throughout my life I have dreamt things that later came true in one form or another.

Not always exactly how I first understood them, and honestly, I am still learning how to separate fear, intuition, symbolism, anxiety, and emotion from one another.

But enough moments have happened that sleep itself eventually became frightening for me.

Most people look forward to rest.

I learned to fear it.

Because I never knew what I might see.

What emotions I might wake carrying.

What message my mind might try placing in front of me next.

For a long time I carried this alone because I did not know how to explain it without sounding irrational, dramatic, or disconnected from reality.

But I want to say something important clearly:

Yes, I am spiritual.

And yes, I also take medication.

Last year I began taking Cipramil, an SSRI, because I realised I cannot navigate the intensity of my mind entirely alone.

And there is no shame in that.

I do not believe spirituality should replace genuine support, self awareness, medical care, or mental health treatment when it is needed.

For me, healing has been learning how to hold both.

Grounding and spirituality.

Intuition and logic.

Emotional depth and practical support.

I am still learning as I go.

Truthfully, I think most of us are.

When nights become too heavy like this, I have slowly created small rituals that help bring me back to myself.

I light a candle.

I hold my Howlite.

And before I sleep, I quietly ask for protection, peace, and a restful night’s sleep.

Not because I believe crystals magically erase fear or anxiety, but because these small moments of intention help remind my nervous system that I am safe.

That I am here.

That I am allowed to rest.

Over time, I have realised something important:

We hold far more power within ourselves than we are often taught to believe.

Not power over everything that happens to us, but power in how we care for ourselves, ground ourselves, protect our peace, and shape the energy we allow into our lives.

Our minds are constantly listening to the stories we repeat.

And sometimes healing begins the moment we stop believing we are helpless.

Maybe that is part of what reclaiming yourself truly is.

Learning that your reality is not only shaped by fear, survival, or pain.

But by intention.

By awareness.

By softness.

By the belief that peace is something you are worthy of experiencing too.

We are in control of our own reality.

You just have to start believing that.