On This Side of the Rainbow
A deeply personal exploration of life, loss and the moments that blur the line between fear and peace, this episode invites listeners into s powerful, almost otherworldly experience.
On This Side of the Rainbow
The Day That Never Ends
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In this episode of Who Did You Become?, we explore what it feels like when life begins to loop—when grief, burnout, and emotional exhaustion make every day feel like a repetition of the last. Inspired by the feeling of being stuck in a personal “Groundhog Day,” this conversation moves through loss, love, responsibility, and the quiet strength it takes to keep going when everything inside you feels tired.
This is a deeply personal reflection on emotional fatigue, compassion, and the invisible weight of continuing to show up for life while carrying so much behind the scenes.
To support the tone of this episode, we use the royalty-free track “White River” by Aakash Gandhi, a soft piano and ambient piece that gently underscores the narrative without overpowering it. The music is intentionally chosen to hold space for reflection, allowing the words—and the emotions behind them—to breathe.
If you are navigating burnout, grief, loneliness, or simply feeling emotionally stretched, this episode is a reminder that you are not alone in that experience. Sometimes survival looks like repetition. Sometimes healing begins by simply naming the cycle.
Thank you for listening and being part of this community where honesty is allowed to exist without judgment.
🎧 Music: “White River” – Aakash Gandhi (royalty-free via YouTube Audio Library)
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Hello everyone, and welcome back to our brand new series, Who Did You Become? I'm so grateful that you're here. If this is your first time listening, this is a space where we talk about healing, grief, mental health, and the moments in life that change us. Not because we have all the answers, but because sometimes sharing the questions is enough. Today's episode is for Mental Health Monday. I want to talk about something that has been sitting heavy on my heart: burnout. Grief. And what happens when life feels like it's repeating itself over and over again. You know the movie Groundhog Day? Bill Murray wakes up every morning only to discover he's living the exact same day. At first it's funny, then it's confusing. Eventually it becomes exhausting. Lately, I felt like I've been living my own version of that story. Wake up, push through, take care of everyone, deal with another loss, go to bed, wake up and do it all again. I used to think insanity was repeating the same mistakes over and over again. Now I wonder if burnout feels a lot like that too. It's running as fast as you can and realizing you haven't moved at all. For me, burnout feels like being a hamster on a wheel. The faster I run, the more I can convince myself that I'm making progress. But sometimes I'm just spinning. And maybe some of you know exactly what that feels like. Maybe you've been holding a family together. Maybe you're carrying financial stress. Maybe you're caring for someone else while quietly falling apart yourself. Maybe you're simply tired. There doesn't have to be one big reason. Sometimes life just piles things on until your heart doesn't know where to put them anymore. This year has been filled with loss. Fred, Rita, Minnie, and now my son's beloved little gerbil cut tea. I know that some people hear stories about animals and think it's just a pet, but anyone who has loved an animal knows that isn't true. They become part of your daily life, part of your routine, part of your family. They trust you completely. And when they leave, they take a piece of your heart with them. Losing cup tea was incredibly difficult. What stayed with me wasn't just the sadness, it was the feeling that I had to say goodbye again. Another little life. Another trip to the crematorium. Another reminder that love and loss often walk side by side. I watch those little gerbils every day. Some people unwind by watching television. I watch my animals. Their happiness brings me peace. Caring for them gives my days meaning. And I think that's because love has always been the language I understand best. There is something else that this experience made me think about. Animals don't abandon one another. Gerbils are incredibly social. They stay close. They look after each other. And maybe there is a lesson there for us. Maybe we were never meant to carry everything alone. The truth is, I am tired. Mentally, emotionally, physically. There are days when my entire body aches, and I honestly don't know if it's stress, grief, or depression. Maybe it's all of them mixed together. There are things happening in my personal life that make that weight even harder to carry. There are relationships that are broken. There are words that still hurt. And there are moments when loneliness feels louder than anything else in the room. I love my animals deeply, but sometimes I wish I had a human connection that made me feel understood. Someone to sit beside me and simply say, I see you. I think a lot of people feel that way. We live in a world where everyone seems connected, but many of us are quietly lonely. We smile, we go to work, we answer messages, we take care of everyone else. And inside, we're wondering how much more we can carry. Writing has become a lifeline for me. This podcast has become a lifeline for me. And this community we're building together has become a lifeline for me. Because every message that says, me too, or I thought I was the only one reminds me that none of us are truly alone. Mental health isn't always dramatic. Sometimes it's simply admitting that today feels hard. Sometimes it's getting out of bed when your heart wants to stay hidden. Sometimes it's feeding everyone else before you figured out how to feed your own soul. And sometimes it's choosing to love again after loss. I don't know what lesson my own version of Groundhog Day is trying to teach me. I don't know why some seasons seem to bring more grief than joy. But I do know this. Every morning I wake up and I choose to keep going. I choose to care. I choose to write. I choose to believe that kindness still matters. And I choose to believe that sharing our stories can help someone else survive their own. If you're listening today and you feel stuck, if you feel like you're running on that spinning wheel, if you feel like life keeps handing you the same heartbreak, I hope you know that this community was built for people exactly like us. People who are tired, people who are healing, people who are still trying. And maybe trying is enough for today. Before we go, I'd like to do our own little mental health check-in. How is your heart today? You don't have to explain. You don't have to have the right words. You can simply say happy, sad, hopeful, angry, exhausted, surviving. Whatever your answer is, it belongs here. Thank you for spending this time with me. Thank you for being part of this community. And until next time, take care of yourselves, take care of each other. And remember, sometimes the bravest thing we can do is wake up and choose love one more time.