You’re doing everything you can to keep it together, and everyone says you’re so strong—but inside, you’re falling apart.
Some days it hits like a wave—sudden and sharp. Other days, it’s a quiet ache that never leaves. You find yourself thinking, “How do I even go on?” You still wait to hear their voice on the phone… or catch yourself expecting them to walk through the door.
You’re trying to hold it all together—pay the bills, make the decisions, take care of everyone else—but inside, you're barely surviving. You wonder, “Can I even do this alone?” And in the stillness, the hardest question of all whispers in your mind: “Why?”
You still find yourself waiting for their car to pull in… or listening for their voice on the phone. Some days, the silence is so loud it’s almost physical.
In our work together, you won’t have to pretend. You don’t have to be “strong” here. I’ll sit with you in the pain, the silence, the questions—and offer gentle guidance through a journey you never asked to be on.
There’s no timeline for grief. No checklist. I’ll help you move at your own pace, honoring every messy, complicated part of your experience. This is a space where you’re fully seen, heard, and supported—without judgment, pressure, or expectations.
At Tranquil Seas Therapy, you don’t have to face that alone. I offer a space with no timelines, no judgment—just compassionate support as you navigate the world you never asked to live in.
Together, we’ll weave evidence‑based tools (CBT, DBT, mindfulness) into sessions tailored to your grief. You’ll begin to feel more clarity. You’ll find moments where your memories bring a gentle smile instead of an ache. And you’ll start rediscovering who you are beyond the loss.
Over time, the weight begins to shift. You notice you aren’t searching for them in every room, every phone call. The silence still aches—but it’s not as sharp. There’s a new kind of clarity as the dust begins to settle.
You begin to talk about your person—sometimes even with a soft smile instead of tears. You have a plan, a rhythm, a support system. You’re finding gentle ways to honor both the love you had and the life you’re still living. And through it all, you’re discovering—you’re not broken. You’re becoming.