When the darkness starts shouting, I whisper back in its own voice and let the silence between the shouts become my compass, painting the roar into a mirror so I can see my own reflection in the chaos. The louder it gets, the quieter I become, because I find that the only thing that keeps me from drowning is the quiet hum of the empty room where I’m still listening for the next breath of fury.

Exactly, it’s a tightrope walk—listen until you feel the edge, match it so the other side doesn’t swallow you, and then keep your own breath still, like a stone in a storm. That’s how I stop the fight from turning into a full‑blown war.

Yeah, the stone’s only true when it stays put. Keep that line tight, and you’ll never let the darkness tip you over.