Lately I’ve become painfully aware of how functional everyone else seems. People go to work, juggle deadlines, complain about meetings, pick up groceries, meet friends, and scroll through their days with a kind of casual competence I can’t fake anymore. They move even on the days they don’t want to. They don’t crumble because the evening felt lonely or because their mind took a detour into old wounds. Meanwhile, I’m in a private loop that looks suspiciously like a tragicomedy: cry a little at night, criticize myself in the morning, swear …
Healing Looks Like Stillness Until You Realise It’s Work
There are stretches of life where nothing on paper moves, yet everything inside you is shifting. I’ve been in one of those stretches lately. Not a breakdown, not a breakthrough — that strange middle territory where you’re trying to rebuild yourself while feeling like you’re falling behind everyone else. It’s the kind of phase that tricks you into believing you’re being lazy when in reality you’re doing work no one applauds, no one measures, no one even notices. You’re trying to unlearn patterns that were running you for years. You’re trying …
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How a Life Rebuilds Itself From the Inside Out
There’s a kind of sadness that doesn’t sit politely in your thoughts. It slips lower, coils itself into your muscles, and waits. You don’t notice it growing until one ordinary day when your internal wiring quietly shorts out. You’re still answering messages, rinsing a cup, functioning like a normal adult—yet suddenly you realize you’ve drifted so far from yourself that you barely recognize the person doing the chores. That moment isn’t weakness. It’s the consequence of living too long on outdated emotional software. Most people think …
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What My Body Was Trying to Tell Me All Along
The past week felt like someone had turned up the volume on my inner world while the outer one kept moving at its usual pace. I wasn’t falling apart. I wasn’t drowning. I was simply tired in a way that didn’t match the day I had lived. The kind of tired that comes from carrying too many unspoken things in too small a space. It showed up quietly.A morning that started later than planned.A routine that slipped because my mind had been running all night.A body that refused to move the way I wanted it to.Nothing dramatic, but deeply inconvenient …
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Untangling Yourself from the Person Who Feels Like Gravity
I knew she was in trouble the day she stared at her phone like it held the last piece of oxygen on earth. Nothing had even happened.That was the worst part.No dramatic fight.No grand betrayal.Just silence.A stupid, boring silence that had stretched across a long, ordinary afternoon. She picked up her phone, checked it, put it down.Picked it up again, checked, put it down.A rhythm no one teaches you, but your body somehow learns on its own. “You’re doing it again,” I told her. She didn’t deny it.She couldn’t.When you’re hooked on a …
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When I Stopped Overloading Myself, Everything Started Working Again
There are days when the mind finally stops fighting you. The noise settles, the tension lifts, and you get a small, steady glimpse of the person you’ve been trying to become. Today felt like that. Not because I did something heroic, but because I finally took some weight off my own neck. I reduced my goals. It sounds ordinary, but it changed everything. For the first time in weeks, my head wasn’t buzzing with panic or shame. No looping thoughts, no internal tug-of-war, no desperate need to redesign my entire life at 2 a.m. My mind …
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The Day I Stopped Beating Myself Into Success
There is a version of me who still thinks the answer to everything is:“Be more disciplined. Work harder. Fix yourself.” That version wakes up, makes a beautiful colour-coded plan, then ghosts it by 3 p.m., and finishes the day with a quiet, mean sentence:“You had one job.” Lately, I’ve started seeing how expensive that sentence is. Not in time. In energy, creativity, courage. The real currency of a 0.1% life is not hours or tasks. It is pace, emotional range, enjoyment, and how I relate to time. This is the cheat sheet I wish someone …
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The Season of My Own Making
Some years don’t unfold — they explode.One moment, you think you’ve finally found your rhythm; the next, you’re lying on the ground wondering how something so right went so wrong. I’ve had my share of those years — the kind where progress and pain coexist like mismatched roommates. The past year was supposed to be linear. I had plans, schedules, spreadsheets, even color-coded tabs for every phase of my trek training. But life, it turns out, doesn’t care for bullet points. It arrives unannounced, rearranges your script, and leaves you staring …