All's quiet
Feelings aren't just a product of a situation. They are a situation. Equally challenging beasts that hate showing their faces to the world.
When we're fighting such beasts, the next day always seems quieter. People squabble, pry, gossip, cry, laugh, leave it all behind. The next day the ducks still make their home in my apartment pool, the leaves whistle just as softly, the smoke tastes the same. The five things I could see, the four things I could hear, the three things I could touch, the two things I could smell, the one thing I could taste, all right where I left them. It makes you feel stupid, makes the panic feel unwarranted. But the feelings were real, at the time they had names and faces. The feelings were real, they were the situation.
We can give ourselves credit, almost nobody else can, for fighting these things. For making it to the quiet.
The peace on the other end isn't proof of our foolishness. It's a reward, our reward, all harsh seas have calm waters.