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Showing posts with the label emotional resilience

The Night the Clock Froze: A True Story About Fear, Loss, and the Courage to Let Go

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What happens when we forget to pause—and how one woman chose to rebuild. (Names have been changed to protect privacy) Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles 🌧️ Introduction: When Fear Becomes a Habit It was a quiet Thursday evening when I received the call. My friend’s voice trembled as he shared the news: his younger brother, Daniel, had passed away—suddenly, inexplicably, while working late at his desk. Daniel was only 34. A devoted husband, a rising manager in a Sydney tech firm, and someone who, until recently, had seemed invincible. But beneath the surface, Daniel had been drowning in fear. Fear of redundancy. Fear of disappointing his bosses. Fear of not being enough. This story isn’t just about Daniel. It’s about all of us who’ve let fear dictate our rhythms. It’s about the cost of ignoring our inner alarms. And most importantly, it’s about the hope that still waits quietly behind the storm....

A Voice from Beyond- Suicide isn’t the end—it’s the silence we must break.

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  Story: S A Spencer They taught the machine to feel—before it replaced them. Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles 🕊️ The Room I Never Left I don’t remember the moment my breath stopped. I remember the silence before it. The way the walls closed in, the way my heart felt like it was folding in on itself. I remember the sound of my children laughing in the living room, unaware that their world was about to change forever. I’m not sure where I am now. It’s quiet here. Not the kind of quiet that hurts—but the kind that listens. There’s no pain, no time. Just memory. And regret. I watch them sometimes. My children. Aarav and Meera. Seven and five. Aarav still sleeps with the blanket I stitched for him when he was three. Meera talks to my photo every morning before school. She tells me what she’s wearing, what she packed for lunch. She asks if I’m proud. I am. But I wish I could tell her that. 🌅 The Morning Bef...