I am safe and supported.

Support is easier to overlook than almost anything, because it works best when it is invisible. The chair holds. The floor holds. Somebody you have never met checked the brakes on the bus you took this morning.

The human version is similarly quiet. There is a name in your phone that would answer at eleven at night. There is someone who would notice, within a day, if you went dark.

Safety is not a feeling that arrives on request, and its absence as a feeling is not proof of its absence as a fact.

Both can be true at once: braced, and held up by more than you can see.