Hey, it’s Cait—and this week’s episode of Chronically, Over It was recorded rising from the trenches. Not a whole lot of pep in my step. Certainly no polished energy. Just the honest, messy revelations of “I really don’t want to do this, but here I am.”
We talk a lot about healing like it’s supposed to be inspiring. Like there’s a before-and-after montage and a shiny new version of you on the other side. But healing in real life? It’s quiet. It’s gritty. And most of the time, it’s invisible.
This week, I shared a story I’ve never told out loud before. It was the year I baked my own birthday cake while trading off sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing, four hours from home, completely alone. My partner didn’t come home that night. I was in a relationship that I didn’t yet have the language to call abusive. I felt abandoned, gutted, numb. But my grandmother called, gave me her yellow cake recipe, and laughed with her like everything was fine. She had no idea I was dying inside.
I made that cake. And I ate it. And somehow, that moment—that cracked-open, nothing-left-in-the-tank moment—became a quiet vow to myself. A marker of: I will not forget how this feels. I will not let myself go back here. I will get out.
And I did. Not all at once. But over the next few months, I kept collecting proof that I deserved more. That I was allowed to want out. That I could trust myself, even when everything felt foggy and I didn’t know how.
We need to normalize talking about this kind of healing. The kind that doesn’t go viral. The kind where “keep going” just means you didn’t disappear inside yourself.
I also talked in the episode about masking—the ways we perform okayness to survive in a world that isn’t made for our brains, our nervous systems, our softness. I shared a quote that said, “Unmasking all the way isn’t always recommended. Masking is a coping mechanism. In a world not built for us, sometimes the mask is what keeps us safe.” And I felt that in my bones.
So no—you’re not weak for needing the mask. You’re adaptive. And honestly, you’re still here. And that counts for everything.
If you’re in a low-capacity season, if showing up feels like dragging yourself through molasses, if you’re just trying to keep the lights on inside your own body—this episode is for you.
And if you’ve ever baked a cake at 9pm because your grandmother told you to and it felt like the only thing you could say yes to that day—well… same.
🎧 Go listen to the full episode wherever you like listening to podcasts, I’ll be there.
📖 And if you’re moving through heartbreak or just the ache of letting go, my book You Don’t Need Closure will be available in the next couple of weeks. It’s the honest, soul-deep guide I wish I had when I was rebuilding from the wreckage.
Talk soon.
