Ink & Shadows: The Words of Osiris j Reapor

There’s something about sleep lately that feels more like survival than rest. My body sleeps, but my mind remains in a battlefield—stuck in the endless cycle of nightmares, adrenaline, and anxiety. And when I wake up, there’s no peace waiting for me—just another kind of war.

Anxiety has become a shadow I carry, a weight that doesn’t lift no matter how hard I try. There’s a lot in my life that isn’t what it should be—what it could be. I often feel like a bystander to my own story. Watching it unfold from the sidelines, powerless to change the next scene.

Some days I believe I haven’t sacrificed enough, haven’t given enough, haven’t been enough. Other days, I feel like I’ve given too much. Like I’m pouring from a cup that’s been empty for years. Maybe I’m both at once—and maybe that contradiction is why I constantly feel like I’m standing at the crossroads between who I want to be and who I need to be.

Every decision I make is measured against two things:

1. How will this affect my children?
2. Can I survive it?
   Everything else is noise.

I’ve always done what I had to do. Stared down barrels. Stood between danger and the people I care about. But I’m still afraid—afraid of love, of closeness, of giving someone the power to wound me.

It’s strange, being someone who helps people on their path of healing and connection —while struggling to believe in love myself. Not because I don’t think it’s real. I know it is. I just think sometimes it ruins more than it saves.

And maybe that’s why I find beauty in what’s broken.
Maybe that’s why I said:

“I think things are most beautiful in their ruined states.”

Because I am one of them.
A broken instrument that still makes music.
A worn tool that still works.
A soldier. A father. A man doing his best.

I’m not perfect.
I make mistakes.

I. Am. Tired.
And still—I move forward.
Because I must.
Because I always do.

– Osiris Reapor
Aspiring Author | Therapist | Human being, still learning
📩 osirisreapor@thetragicquill.com
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