Day 83: Good Choices with an Indecisive Food Craving

Sometimes, the simplest choices make the biggest difference. Last night, I switched off my alarm and let my body decide when it was ready to wake. And it did—naturally, without the usual jolt of sound. That extra rest washed away the exhaustion of yesterday, leaving me lighter, clearer, and grateful.

The ankle swelling did creep up as the day went on, but the pain and limp were noticeably better. In fact, I barely thought about the pain at all today—which says more than any words could. It’s amazing how healing feels when it quietly slips into the background.

Food, however, was a puzzle. I had one of those days where I craved something but couldn’t name what. Nothing on the delivery app spoke to me, and I had no energy to cook. Eventually, I settled for a sandwich—more out of necessity than desire, just so I could take my pills. I don’t even remember how it tasted. It made me realize: I need a list of easy-to-cook recipes for days like this. Meals that don’t demand effort but still fulfill the simple goal of eating. A personal menu I can flip through when my brain refuses to decide.

I also added a sticky note to my desk today—a small but powerful reminder not to make unnecessary “consumer” purchases. It worked. I scrolled through shopping sites, felt the temptation, saw the note, and deleted items from my cart. A tiny act of discipline, but one that saved me from burning a bigger hole in my wallet.

Today was good. I’m thankful for the relief from pain, thankful for the sleep that reset me, and thankful for the restraint that kept my spending in check. Sometimes, a good day isn’t about grand achievements—it’s about listening to your body, honoring your needs, and celebrating the small wins that add up to balance.

Day 82: The Power of Zs

For years, I lived on borrowed energy. Three to four hours of sleep a night & endless cups of coffee were the normal for me. I wore my sleep deprivation almost like a badge of honor—proof that I could push myself to the limit and still function.

But today was different. After just three nights of five hours of sleep each, I hit a wall. My body refused to cooperate. I yawned through meetings, struggled to focus, and even coffee—the old faithful—did nothing to clear my haze. All those years of neglecting sleep has finally caught up with me.

I used to believe I could bend my body to my will. Now I realize – sleep is not optional. It’s not a luxury. It’s a fundamental need. Without it even the smallest tasks feel monumental.

There’s a strange irony in how we take for granted something so simple. Only when exhaustion becomes unbearable do we realize its worth.

Tonight, I’m choosing differently. I’m giving myself permission to rest—not as a reward, but as a necessity. I hope tomorrow I wake with energy, clarity, and the drive to achieve all that I want. More importantly, I hope I carry forward this lesson: pushing through pain is not strength; listening to your body is.

Sleep, once ignored, has finally demanded my respect. And I am ready to give it.

Day 81: Sparks from Memories

Today, I feel content. I may not have checked every box on my to-do list or been super productive, but I’ve done enough. And sometimes, enough is all we need.

This weekend was a reminder of how joy can sneak back into our lives in the most unexpected ways. On Sunday, I met a close friend after fifteen years. You’d think time and distance might change childhood friendships, but it was as if no time had passed at all. There was no awkwardness, no pauses—just endless conversations flowing from one topic to another. It took me back to those carefree days when my biggest worry was passing high school with good grades.

Later that day, I connected with two other close friends over a video call. Even though we weren’t together in person, seeing their faces and their expressions brought me so much comfort. Back when we worked together, they made the tough days bearable. We had long venting sessions that always ended with laughter, and for a moment, everything felt lighter. That call reminded me of those times, and it filled me with gratitude.

I’m carrying an overdose of happiness from the weekend, and I don’t know how long it will last—but for now, I’m holding onto it. I’ve decided not to give away my happy days to worries that can’t be solved. Today, I am happy. And that is enough.

Day 78: A Day lost in Thoughts

Today was… different. My pain level was at a six, which for me feels amazing. I woke up with the intention of getting things done, but now that the day is nearly over, I can’t quite put my finger on what I actually did.

I didn’t cook. I didn’t nap. I didn’t study. The only thing I really did was make plans to meet a friend. And yet, somehow, the hours vanished. Where did the day go?

I’m not a very outgoing person. I prefer the comfort of home, tucked away in my own space. When I do go out, it takes planning and preparation. And if those plans get canceled? Honestly, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Ever since injuring my ankle, I’ve restricted my walking as much as possible. I don’t go places alone because I’m not sure if I can make the distance. I stumble, I tire quickly, and the thought of falling terrifies me. The embarrassment, the humiliation—it’s enough to keep me cautious. Even though I love spending time with close friends, the fear lingers: will my legs carry me through, or will they give out?

I think I lost my day to that worry. The anticipation of travel, the mental rehearsing of what could go wrong—it filled the space where my usual activities might have been.

It wasn’t a bad day. It wasn’t a great day either. Maybe it was just one of those “weird” days—where nothing went wrong, but nothing quite felt right. A day that slipped quietly through my fingers, leaving me with reflection instead of accomplishment.

Day 77: Pain and Faith

Today was gentler than yesterday. The pain was still there—it woke me in the morning and lingered throughout—but it wasn’t as sharp or overwhelming as before.

I began my day with ten quiet minutes reading The Bible. Believe what you may, but I truly felt that those moments with God changed the course of my day. That time of prayer and scripture gave me strength to sit up, breathe through the pain, and carry on.

My mother massaged my stiff joints, and though each press sent jolts through my nerves, the warmth of the hot water bag and her care eased me. It reminded me that healing is not always about the absence of pain, but about finding comfort in the midst of it.

All day I repeated to myself: You are better than you were. Maybe I stumbled in the past few days, but compared to last month, I can walk farther. I can lift my arms a little higher. Progress may be slow, but it is still progress.

I am thankful for today. Even with my failures, I am still standing. And in my standing, I see grace. Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me that I am not alone. Even in pain, You are my hope.

Day 76: Fear and the Desire for Better

Fear. A small four-letter word with the power to paralyze.

This morning, I woke up with pain in my left arm—the only limb that had been free of pain until now. The realization devastated me. I know that if I don’t take care of my health, one day I might find myself confined to bed. That thought alone froze me in place. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t study. I slept through the morning, drained of energy and will.

But somehow, I made it to the end of today. And that matters. Because I don’t want my story to end in surrender. I don’t want my legacy to be giving up. I want to try again tomorrow, even if I fail. Failure is not the end—it’s part of the path.

I want to reach a stage in life where the hopes I once carried are no longer just dreams but realities. I want to be happy, even with the challenges my health brings. I want to be a better version of myself, someone who can look back and say: I changed for the better.

It won’t happen all at once. It will happen one day at a time. Even with pain, I will keep moving forward.

Day 75:When Tomorrow Looks Like Today

I keep telling myself the problem is me. Motivation feels like a foreign language I never learned. Every time I face a challenge, I complain. If I somehow push past the first hurdle, the second one knocks me flat. And then I give up.

By the end of the day, I look back and realize I’ve made no progress on my goals. I think to myself, Tomorrow I will be different. But tomorrow’s me always ends up like today’s me. Hours slip away while I scroll through shopping sites, adding things to my cart, deleting them later when reality reminds me I can’t afford them—not if I want to education bills.

I don’t want to struggle. I want things to just happen. And for most of my life, they did. But now, for the first time, I’m staring at goals that demand effort, persistence, and grit. And I don’t know how to push myself to do it.

Sometimes a fleeting thought crosses my mind: What if I don’t live long enough to see the fruit of my efforts? And then the question creeps in—What’s the point?

I want so much out of life. Yet the moment I hit a barrier, my motivation evaporates. Today was another day of failure. Another day where I didn’t just stall—I took a step backward, even as my conscience kept nudging me not to.

I am praying to my one constant. My Father in heaven please help me I am failing, I am falling and I feel like I cannot get back up.

Day 74: Bad Day, Shaken Hope and Still Trying

This morning I woke up with pain sharper than it’s been in weeks. For a moment, I panicked—was I slipping backward again? The thought drained me. All the hope and motivation I’ve been clinging to since my diagnosis seemed to vanish in that instant. I couldn’t help but ask myself: What’s the point of all the pills, the careful eating, the effort—if I’m not getting better?

I never imagined that “being normal” would become something I yearn for. I hate the limp. I hate the fear of falling. I hate rushing to a chair every ten minutes because standing any longer feels impossible. And being obese makes the weight of it all heavier—not just physically, but emotionally. I worry people look at me and think, She’s fat, of course she has health problems.

Part of me knows these thoughts live mostly in my head. I know not everyone will understand my situation, and I can’t expect them to. But even so, the fear of judgment lingers, and it weighs me down.

That’s why I’m writing this today. Putting my emotions into words helps me release them instead of bottling them up. It’s my way of lightening the load. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up still in pain—but hopefully I’ll also wake up with a little more hope, a little more strength, and a reminder that even on the hard days, I’m still moving forward.

Day 66: Gone in a Flash

There are days that feel strangely heavy, even though nothing much happens. Today was one of those days for me.

The morning began with a power outage, which meant no work could get done. Truthfully, even if the electricity had been there, my motivation wasn’t. Instead, chose the ever “productive habit” of endless scrolling of YouTube shorts. It ate up hours of my day but do I remember anything I saw? Absolutely not!

Later, I found myself browsing through stationery websites, adding pens, notebooks, and organizers to my cart. It felt like I was about to make a purchase, but deep down I knew it wasn’t because I needed them. It was boredom disguised as desire. Thankfully, a moment of clarity struck before checkout. I abandoned the cart, realizing it was just impulse shopping waiting to happen.

Now I am drained. Not from work, not from effort, but from the doing “nothing” all day. I am exhausted. and all I want now is the comfort of a warm blanket & soft pillows.

Day 64: Getting back on Track

I am back! Finally after days of wanting to get back to writing my blog. I have finally done it! Even today as I sat to write my blog today I kept thinking “one day won’t matter right?” But, given my procrastination behavior I finally have forced myself to get started.

I have missed this! I think things are finally turning around. My health is getting better. My pain is at a manageable threshold. I have finally finished organizing all my stationary. No more stationary strewn on the floor. I table top is not piled up. I actually even started de-cluttering other areas in my house. I have started letting go of things that at point was unimaginable for me. I took a proper emotional hit for me to set my priorities straight.

I am not doing everything that I am supposed to. I feel like I have finally started to at least see the things that I have been missing. I don’t every want to feel that out of control again. I never wants to loose perspective of what matters again. I want to be happy. And life may not always give me reasons to be happy about. I am going to keep trying. I am going to snatch any happiness life can give me. Even if I don’t deserve it I still appreciate it!