Day 106: Recovering from the Break Down

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So I am back. Today I am smiling again, even though there is still pain in my heart. Life feels heavy right now, with so many things going wrong all at once. Some days I am simply too weak to face it. On those days, I withdraw into myself and hope that the storm will pass. It feels like the world is closing in, and all I can manage is the simple act of waking up. I want to lie down the whole day, doing nothing, because nothing makes sense. It feels like drowning on dry land—unable to breathe, unable to move forward. My heart had taken my mind hostage, and I was trapped in the tension between wanting to live fully and feeling paralyzed by pain.

My mind kept reminding me of all the things I needed to do, all the ways I should keep pushing forward. But the reminders felt hollow, because nothing seemed to matter. I don’t like this feeling, but I think it was inevitable. For too long, I’ve tried to push down the pain, convincing myself to focus only on the good things. That works sometimes, but not always. There are days when the weight of what I’ve hidden breaks through, and I am forced to face the vulnerability I fear. I hate being vulnerable. I think I am scared of what it reveals about me, scared of being seen as weak. Yet, despite that fear, I made it through. After days of feeling like everything was collapsing, I am finally beginning to emerge from the darkness. Sitting here now, writing this post, I feel grateful to be back on track, ready to work toward meaningful change in my life.

I know this cycle will repeat if I keep relying only on myself. That’s why I hope, going forward, I learn to turn to God instead of crashing out internally. He has carried me even when I never asked Him to. If He takes care of me without my asking, how much more will He take care of me when I reach out to Him for help? That thought gives me hope. It reminds me that I don’t have to fight alone, that there is strength beyond my own walls. And today, even with the pain still lingering, I am smiling again—because I believe I am being led toward something better.

Managing the Crash

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Daily writing prompt
What strategies do you use to cope with negative feelings?
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Attempting this prompt again, because this time the answer feels a little different. Especially since I’ve just returned to some level of normalcy after feeling like I was drowning for the past two days. Having bad days isn’t uncommon anymore; it almost feels like they’ve become the norm. The world is on fire, and no matter how hard you try, some days simply don’t go your way.

Talking about my strategy to cope with negative feelings, fair disclaimer: this is not a good practice. What I do is probably one of the more toxic ways of dealing with things. But here it is. First, I hide what I’m feeling. I never let the next person know what’s going through my mind. My problems are my own. It’s rare that anyone would truly understand, and even rarer that they’d know exactly what’s happening inside. Second, I build compartments and shove the feelings into a box. There’s no time to deal with emotions. Feelings complicate things and make everything confusing. Wearing your heart on your sleeve feels like the biggest disservice you can do to yourself. So I tell myself: deal with the feelings later. It most certainly isn’t in the moment. Finally, I focus on getting through today, pushing the problems out for tomorrow.

Now, here’s why this isn’t effective. Every once in a while, the feelings I’ve boxed up start to crack through. I try damage control, thinking maybe handling a small issue will make the compartments strong again, strong enough to withstand a few more days. But the pile of negative emotions always grows faster than my ability to manage them. Then comes the crash. The day when everything tumbles down, when it feels like the world is ending and life has lost all meaning. I shut down for a couple of days, overwhelmed by the tide of emotions. Nothing makes sense until I finally gather the strength to rebuild the walls, compartmentalize again, and start over.

I still follow this vicious cycle, but once in a while I take time to talk to someone. It doesn’t stop the crash, but it helps me recover from it. It gives me courage to fight again and somehow gives me the strength to take a step in the right direction.

Day 101: Cracked Walls, Shaken Will

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There are nights when the tide rises too high, when emotions surge like waves against the walls of my chest, and breathing feels like a luxury. Tonight is one of those nights. My mind is a storm—thoughts racing, colliding, multiplying—each scenario demanding attention, each possibility dragging me deeper into the undertow. The compartments I’ve built to keep myself functioning are collapsing, one after another, until I am left standing in the ruins.

It’s astonishing how something so irrelevant, so small, can become the final straw—the crack that shatters the whole structure. I want to run away, to escape, to leave everything behind. And yet, tomorrow I know I will begin again. I will stack bricks of compartmentalization, rebuild fragile walls, and convince myself I can breathe one more time. But tonight, I am falling.

There is irony in this collapse. A quiet voice inside me whispers: You’ve been here before. You survived. This storm will pass. But another voice roars louder, insisting that my heart is breaking, that this breakdown is shameful, that I am failing to meet the world’s impossible standards of “normal.”

Society has taught us to equate breakdowns with weakness. To cry is to falter. To panic is to fail. To admit that the mind cannot carry the weight is to confess defeat. And yet, isn’t it strange that we celebrate resilience only when it looks polished—when it’s the triumphant comeback, the motivational story, the glossy version of survival? We rarely honor the messy middle, the nights when breathing feels impossible, the moments when strength is simply enduring the next minute.

But here is the truth I am learning: weakness is not failure. A breakdown is not the end—it is a signal, a cry for pause, a reminder that even the strongest structures need repair. To collapse is human. To rebuild is human. To admit that the tide is too high is not shameful; it is honest.

So tonight, I step back. I let the walls fall. I let myself feel the weight of this moment, knowing that tomorrow I will gather the pieces again. Today, only part of me believes in my resilience. Tomorrow, I hope the whole of me will recognize it.

And perhaps, if we begin to speak of these nights openly, without shame, we can redefine what it means to be “normal.” Maybe normal is not the absence of breakdowns, but the courage to rise after them. Maybe normal is not perfection, but persistence.

Day 100: Choosing Joy, Seeking Peace

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Today feels different. It is a day of contemplation, a pause to ask myself – why am I doing this?

When I began this blog, it was with the hope of reigniting a passion that had quietly slipped away. Writing once centered me, even when my world was engulfed in chaos. Putting thoughts onto paper made the weight of life feel lighter, more bearable. It gave me perspective, strength to fight one more day. But somewhere along the way, the more blows I took, the further I drifted from writing. I lost a piece of myself without even realizing it.

I wonder—when did we move away from doing things simply for the joy of doing them, to doing things only because we have to? Today, every action seems to demand justification, a measurable benefit. My parents called it “growing up.” But in truth, it clipped the wings that longed to fly. Perhaps they too had dreams they were expected to abandon in the name of reality.

I count myself among the privileged, because I still have the choice. The choice to follow dreams, even when it goes against everything I’ve been taught. The choice to take the difficult path, knowing it may lead to failure. But I am grateful for that choice, because even if I stumble, I will have tried. And in trying, I will have chosen happiness. In a world where joy feels scarce, perhaps that is the greatest achievement of all.

While I am deeply grateful for all the blessings God has given me, I cannot ignore the reality that, in many parts of the world, people’s lives are engulfed in war and suffering. Their homes are burning, their families torn apart, and their futures uncertain. My heart aches for them, and so I lift my prayers to the heavens—for peace, for hope, for protection, and for safety.

Prayer may be the only thing I can offer from where I stand, but I believe it matters. I believe that once hearts are changed, the world itself can change. And I hold onto the faith that God is the One who softens hearts, just as He did with Pharaoh in the Holy Bible. If He can turn hardened hearts toward compassion, then there is hope that even in the midst of war, humanity can find its way back to peace.

Day 99: Jigsawing a plan

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I’ve never considered myself an organized person. In fact, I often admire those who can plan their day and stick to it with discipline. They seem to move through life with clarity, while I stumble through mine with hesitation. This morning, I decided to try something new—I sat down to make a daily schedule. Deep down, I know I might fail at following it, but I want to become someone who honors her commitments.

The idea of a schedule feels both exciting and intimidating. On one hand, it promises structure and progress. On the other, it raises endless questions: how do I divide my day between home duties, work, studies, and rest? Eight hours are already reserved for sleep, leaving sixteen to be split wisely. Do I study in the morning when my mind is fresh, or at night when the world is quiet? How much time should I give to chores, and where do I fit in my art projects—the one thing that brings me joy? Sometimes, I feel I waste more time planning than actually doing.

After watching countless productivity videos, I’ve realized a few truths about myself:

  • First, I get anxious when I make plans. I imagine everything that could go wrong before I even begin. I need to remind myself that missing one task doesn’t mean the whole day is ruined. Progress isn’t about perfection—it’s about consistency.
  • Second, I am inherently lazy. Having had many things handed down to me, I never truly learned the discipline of effort. Procrastination has become a habit, almost an addiction. I know I need to break it. Maybe limiting my screen time again could help—it worked once before, and perhaps it can work again.
  • Third, I am easily distracted. I’ve reached a point where I can’t do anything without background noise. I replay old series I’ve already watched, convincing myself I don’t need to pay attention, but it still pulls me away from focus. Silence feels uncomfortable, yet I know it’s necessary for deep work.

Despite these challenges, I want to dive into the deep end. I want to build habits that last, even if they start small. I want to learn to sit with silence, to push through laziness, and to quiet the anxiety that comes with planning. My hope is that one day, I’ll look back and be proud of myself—not for being perfect, but for finally breaking free from the cycle of procrastination and distraction.

For now, I’ll take it one step at a time. A schedule may not transform me overnight, but it can be the first brick laid in the foundation of a more disciplined life. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll discover that organization isn’t about rigid control—it’s about creating space for the things that matter most.

Day 98: Family Moments and Quiet Wins

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A good rest is often more healing than any medicine. The night before, I tossed and turned with a migraine. I don’t know if everyone’s experience is the same, but for me, sleep never comes easily during a migraine bout. Only when I am physically exhausted do I finally drift off—and yesterday was no different. Thankfully, once I did get some proper sleep, I woke up with relief from the pain.

Truthfully, I could have slept longer, but my body rarely allows me more than seven hours at a stretch. So I got up and tried to study. Tried being the key word. Have you ever turned pages without absorbing a single word? That was me today—reading without understanding, just going through the motions.

For lunch, my sister stopped by with her family. Whenever my nephews are around, schedules go out the window. Books were abandoned, and we all sat together to talk and eat. After lunch, my sister and I continued our conversations in my mother’s room. Time flew by, as it always does when you’re caught up in laughter and stories.

Later in the evening, after they left, I made dinner for my parents. Nothing fancy—just an omelette—but I managed to get the seasoning right this time, neither too salty nor too bland. I also prepared some hummus, not for today but because I’d been putting it off for a while due to pain flare-ups. While cleaning up the kitchen afterward, frustration crept in as the pain returned. I slammed a door to release it—not the most effective method, but better than yelling and saying things I didn’t mean.

By the end of the day, I felt calmer. I spent some time journaling and practicing lettering in my workbook. And now, as the last act of the day, I’m writing this blog entry.

Day 97: Highs and Lows

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I was genuinely excited about today. My new stationery organizer finally arrived, and I couldn’t wait to arrange the rest of my supplies neatly into it. For the first time, nothing is hidden away—everything is right in front of me, visible and inviting. Just seeing my pens, brushes, and papers lined up feels like encouragement to make time for the thing I love most: art.

For years, I believed that drawing had to be perfect. I hesitated to use my supplies, telling myself I needed to be “good enough” first. I didn’t want to “waste” them on bad drawings. But now I realize that if I never use them, I’ll never improve. Failures are part of the process; they pave the way to success. Today, I’m okay with the mistakes because I hold onto the hope of progress.

Unfortunately, the day didn’t end as brightly as it began. While body aches have become a familiar challenge—something I’ve learned to manage—today brought back an old enemy: migraine. The throbbing in my head was relentless, and every step felt like my brain was swishing inside my skull. The lights in my room became unbearable, and only when I switched them off did I feel a small measure of relief.

So I’m winding down early tonight, hoping sleep will bring comfort. The organizer sits on my desk, a reminder of the joy I felt earlier. Even though the day ended painfully, I’ll carry that spark of excitement with me into tomorrow.

Day 96: Bitter Coffee and Burning Skin

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I may have gone a little too far with exfoliating yesterday. This morning, I woke up with my skin feeling like it was on fire. It wasn’t just a mild irritation—it was a constant burning sensation that followed me throughout the day. I kept reaching for my cooling gel, applying it again and again, hoping for relief. It made me laugh at myself a little—how something meant to make me feel better ended up being the biggest discomfort of the day. Lesson learned: not every “new product” is meant for me.

Work began with coffee, but not the kind I usually enjoy. I miscalculated the amount of milk left in the pan, and what I ended up with was a cup of very strong, bitter coffee. I don’t mind strong coffee, but I usually save it for days when I know I’ll need extra energy. Today, it came unplanned. The caffeine kept me going, but it also threw off my rhythm—I completely missed lunch. Hours slipped by, and it wasn’t until the room started getting dark that I realized I hadn’t eaten.

After finally grabbing something to eat, I wrapped up my work and signed off. That’s when the best part of the day began—time with my art projects. There’s something deeply satisfying about sitting down with my stationery supplies, sketching, coloring, and creating. I love that I’m actually using the supplies I’ve collected over the years instead of just letting them sit untouched. Each pen, brush, and sheet of paper feels like it’s finally serving its purpose. My hope is that by the end of the year, I’ll have used up a significant portion of them, each piece tied to a memory of quiet evenings like this.

Today wasn’t perfect—burning skin, bitter coffee, and a missed meal—but it ended with creativity, and that’s what I’ll carry forward.

Day 95: Productive but exhausted

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Today felt productive. I woke up to an early alarm and treated myself to a warm shower. The hot water helped ease the flare-up in my joints—I just stood under the stream and let it wash over the aches. For a little while, I felt lighter, more awake.

The first thing I did after my shower was meal prep. I knew cooking would take me longer because of the pain, so I wanted to get ahead of it. Cooking for one person is still something I struggle with—I’ve always cooked for a family of four. Usually, I end up under-salting because I’m overly cautious. Ironically, today I oversalted the food. Still, it was edible, and I enjoyed it.

Work was supposed to end early, but life had other plans. After logging out, I was enjoying some quiet time with my art when an unexpected ping pulled me back. I ended up working late into the night to finish tasks, and now I’m writing this half-asleep.

I’m extremely drowsy, so I’ll leave it here for today. Tomorrow, I’ll revisit this entry before publishing, but for now, I’ll count it as another day of progress—even if it ended later than I hoped.

Day 94: Small Wins and the Battle with Sleep

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I woke up comparatively early today—not as early as I had hoped, but early nonetheless. I keep telling myself I need to set a fixed time to study. I’ve always been someone who studies best at night, when everything around me is quiet. But now, with work, it’s harder. After shutting my laptop, my mind goes into battle: sleep or study. Sleep wins every time, with me promising myself, “I’ll start tomorrow.” Truth is, there’s no point studying when I’m exhausted—nothing sticks in my head anyway.

It’s difficult to get back into a studying mindset once you start earning money. I catch myself thinking, “Why am I punishing myself? When will this be over?” But the sensible part of me knows this is my dream. Not something my parents asked me to do, not something suggested for career growth—this is mine. I delayed it because I couldn’t afford it, but now that I’ve saved enough, I owe it to myself to see it through.

So I’m going to push myself. Smaller goals—maybe just two pages of a chapter at a time. Hopefully, once I start, momentum will carry me forward.

Outside of studying, I did manage something I’m proud of: I cooked fish and a side dish for lunch. That felt like an achievement. I also took an afternoon nap—though calling it a “nap” might be a stretch since I slept for two hours. Other than that, nothing eventful today.

But even on quiet days, small goals and small wins matter.