These Trying Times
- sarahdrewer
- Apr 6
- 2 min read
There’s something I’ve been noticing more and more lately—in my work, in conversations, in my own life and in the quiet spaces in between.
So many people are holding a lot. These times are trying.
On the surface, life carries on. People are showing up, functioning, doing what needs to be done. But underneath, there’s often a very different experience—one that isn’t always shared or spoken about.
A kind of silent pressure. A sense of barely holding it together.
Listening to James Blake's beautiful album Trying Times, I'm hit:
“I’m breaking, I hide it well, ’cause I can’t afford to replace the shell… and the anxious end up alone, ’cause there are far too many things we can’t control.”
There’s so much in that.

The Hidden Struggle
Many people don’t feel they have the space to fall apart. There’s a belief—sometimes conscious, often not—that they have to keep going, keep coping, keep everything intact.
Because what would happen if they didn’t?
So they keep the shell in place.
From the outside, it can look like strength. And in many ways, it is. But it can also be exhausting—holding everything in, managing alone, keeping difficult feelings just beneath the surface.
When Anxiety Grows in Silence
Anxiety has a way of expanding when it isn’t given somewhere to go.
Thoughts loop. Worries build. The unknown starts to feel overwhelming, especially when there are “far too many things we can’t control.” And without an outlet, those thoughts can begin to feel heavier, more real, more consuming.
Often, the instinct is to withdraw. To deal with it privately. To not burden others.
But this can create a kind of quiet loneliness—being surrounded by people, yet feeling entirely alone in what you’re carrying.
Letting Someone In
What if things didn’t have to stay hidden?
What if the shell didn’t need to be held so tightly in place?
Talking doesn’t make everything go away. It doesn’t suddenly give us control over uncertainty. But it does soften the edges of what we’re experiencing.
When we share what’s going on it can feel less overwhelming. We can gain perspective. We will feel understood and we’re reminded we don’t have to carry it all by ourselves.
Letting someone in—whether that’s a trusted person in your life or a therapist—isn’t a failure to cope. It’s a way of taking care of yourself.
If you’re someone who is holding a lot, quietly managing, doing your best to keep everything together—you’re not alone in that experience.
But you don’t have to stay alone in it.
There is strength in speaking, in sharing, in allowing yourself to be supported. Even a small moment of honesty can begin to shift something.
It's not always therapy of course. But it can help when you're stuck. It doesn't have to wait until you're broken either. Help is available.




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