Day 92: Five Steps Closer

Spontaneity has never been my strength. Sudden plans usually send me into a spiral of panic. But there are exceptions—and family outings are one of them. When I’m with my family, the anxiety fades. I don’t worry about what others think. I just feel safe.

Six months ago, life looked very different. I could barely walk without dragging my leg behind me. Sitting down and standing up from a chair felt like climbing a mountain. I had no strength in my legs, and I often wished for a chair in front of me just to hold onto, in case I fell. Nights were the hardest—I remember crying quietly into my pillow every time I had to turn in bed, praying no one would hear me.

Today, I’m not what most would call “healthy,” but I’m far better than I was. And today, I had a victory.

We went out as a family for lunch. To reach our reserved table, I had to climb five stairs. Five steps—something so small for most people, but for me, it was monumental. Each step sent shooting pain through my legs, but I made it. I leaned on my sister to get down the stairs, but I didn’t break down crying. I got through it. Those five steps were everything.

The meal itself was wonderful. Good food, laughter, and togetherness. I even took pictures of all the dishes we ate. Funny enough, I used to judge people for photographing their food. But now, I see it differently. For me, it’s about capturing a happy memory. I don’t care if the photos are “Instagram-worthy”—I just want them for myself. Since I can’t go on the long walks I used to love, food has become my next best subject for photography. One of these days, I might even start sharing them online.

Leaving all that aside, today was a good day. Yes, I’m in some pain, and yes, I’m exhausted—but nothing I can’t handle. More importantly, I’m determined. I don’t want to go back to my “old self.” I want to become my better self. And with faith, family, and perseverance, I believe I will.

Day 91: A Perfect Lazy Day

Some days unfold without urgency, without deadlines, without the usual rush—and today was one of those rare pauses. I had wrapped up all my work yesterday, expecting more tasks to come my way, but instead I found myself with nothing pressing to do. At first, I tried to make plans, even plans to make plans, but none of them materialized.

Instead, I sat at my desk, letting the quiet stretch across the hours.

One of the highlights of the day was talking with my mom. I love listening to her stories, especially when she reminisces about her childhood. There’s a sparkle in her voice, almost childlike, when she recalls those memories. All her siblings have passed away, and I know she misses them deeply. Sharing those stories seems to connect her back to them, keeping their presence alive in her heart—and in mine, too, as I listen.

Interestingly, the stillness of the day made me realize how much the week had taken out of me. When I’m busy, fatigue hides behind the momentum. But when everything slows down, exhaustion steps forward. Even strong coffee couldn’t keep me from napping in the afternoon. Oddly enough, that nap gave me a second wind, leaving me more refreshed for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t a day of productivity, but it was a day of recovery. A slow rhythm, a gentle reset, and a reminder that sometimes doing nothing is exactly what we need.

Day 90: Difference 3 months can make

It’s been three months since I began my daily blog, and so much has changed in that time. I’ve stepped out of a toxic relationship, started working on my health, and begun building habits I’ve wanted to cultivate for years.

The biggest win for me has been returning to the Bible. For a long time, I closed that part of my life off, distracted by worldly concerns. I took for granted that Jesus always had my back, while I gave little thought to the One who cared for me most. Now, I’m trying to do better. I may never be worthy of His grace, but I hope to keep reminding myself of His love.

Today was a little harder. My stomach has been upset, and I’ve felt nauseous. Food doesn’t appeal to me, but I ate something anyway so I could take my medication. The swelling in my leg is worse than usual, though I know elevating it tonight will help.

Even with the exhaustion, I managed to get through work and close out everything I needed to. There’s a quiet satisfaction in ending the day with no unfinished tasks waiting for tomorrow. That peace makes rest feel even sweeter.

I’m grateful for the progress I’ve made, and even on days like this, I want to keep moving forward—for the better, for my health, and for my faith.

Day 89: When Work Takes Over

Today was one of those work-intensive days where it felt like I did nothing but grind away at my tasks. By the end, my brain was fried, and all I wanted was to collapse into bed for a deep, uninterrupted sleep. Heads down, lights out.

I tried to recharge with a power nap in the afternoon, but it only made things worse. I woke up with a headache stronger than the one I started with. At one point, I wanted to throw my laptop aside and just run away from it all. I even put on my “work mode” playlist, hoping the music would push me through. But the motivation never came.

Instead, I crawled to the finish line of the day. Eventually, I gave up on completing the task and shut my laptop. Work will still be there tomorrow, but tonight, I need rest. Sleep feels like the only answer.

Day 88: Small Progress Towards Changes

Today felt like one of those rare days where everything balanced out just right. I started early, easing into the morning before my work calls. Despite preparing myself, I still managed a few funny mishaps during the call — my habit of laughing when I’m embarrassed or stressed made its usual appearance. Thankfully, cameras are not mandatory, or my red ears would have given me away. But honestly, starting the day with laughter set a good tone.

Pain was under control, and I remembered to read my Bible, which grounded me and lifted my spirit. That alone made me feel like the day was off to a meaningful start.

Food was a little unusual today — I ate more than I normally do. Hunger doesn’t usually hit me that hard, but I tried to keep it healthy and paced myself, taking breaks to check in with my body. On top of that, I drank about two liters of water, which is a big step forward for me. It may not be the “ideal” amount, but considering my usual habits, it felt like progress. With summer approaching, I know hydration will be key, so I’m hoping I can slowly grow my habit of hydrating myself.

In the afternoon, I took a break and picked up my sketchpad. I started working on a drawing of Rengoku, my favorite character from Demon Slayer. I don’t know why, probably because his character is completely contradicting to my character. He is just so positive and motivated it always brings a smile to my face. The sketch – I didn’t finish it, but I made significant progress, hopefully, I’ll complete it by the end of the week.

Looking back, today was a good day. A mix of laughter, discipline, creativity, and small victories. Sometimes, it’s not about big achievements but about noticing the little things that make life feel lighter.

Day 87: Celebrating the Win and acknowledging the failure

This morning, I woke up feeling refreshed. For the first time in months, I did something I had been struggling with—reading my Bible before starting the day.

Too often, I pushed it to the end of my schedule, telling myself there were “more important” things to do. Yet deep down, I knew that true healing begins with the soul, and closeness to God is the only way to nurture it. It’s ironic that I neglected this, especially when I remember a phase of my life where everything seemed to go against me, yet I was still happy—because faith gave me hope.

That’s the feeling I want again. The pure joy that isn’t tied to circumstances. Happiness that simply is. Today, that small step felt like my “good thing.”

But in the spirit of being honest about my failures, I have to admit—I bought more things. I feel embarrassed and ashamed, yet also excited about the purchases. That temporary dopamine rush is so addictive. I realize that quitting impulsive spending cold turkey is difficult. Maybe the answer is gradual change: reducing my spending budget, increasing savings, and slowly breaking the craving.

Impulse buying feels like a challenge as big as my junk food habits and poor sleep routine. But acknowledging these struggles is the first step.

This year, I want to work toward meaningful change—bit by bit, choice by choice. Because lasting transformation doesn’t happen overnight, but through consistent, intentional steps.

Day 85: Challenges, Courage and Change

Today felt different. Better. After two long weeks of discomfort and frustration, I woke up with pain that was finally tolerable. My ankle and knee are slowly finding their way back to normal, the swelling has eased, and even my stiff shoulder is beginning to loosen. Yes, there’s still sharp pain when I try to move it, but the range of motion has improved — and that alone feels like progress worth celebrating.

I find myself thankful to God for this healing. I don’t think I did much to bring it about; I only cried out to Him in my pain. Yet, He listened. Sometimes I wonder how Jesus finds the time to care for all His children. I know I can be a handful, but His love never wavers. Even when I am unreasonable, He remains the one who listens. Faith needs nurturing, but His love is constant — and that is my anchor.

Today also brought another small victory: I cooked for my family. It was tiring, but I managed. Cooking has always been my quiet escape, my “me time,” where I lose myself in flavors and creativity. But as I watched my parents eat, I noticed something different. They aren’t the same as before. It feels like the weight of my struggles has spilled over into their lives, leaving them subdued, eating only to fill their hunger. I miss the joy we used to share — even amidst fights and hardships, there was laughter. Now, it feels like the poison of my pain has touched them too. More than anything, I want them to see me happy again. I want to bring light back into their lives.

This year, I’ve decided, will be a year of change. Challenges lie ahead, but I hope to face them with strength and courage. I want to emerge with a lighter soul, one that has found its purpose. Healing isn’t just about the body — it’s about the spirit, the heart, and the bonds we share. And I believe that with faith, love, and perseverance, I can get there.

Day 84:Disconecting from Autopilot

How do people find something to write about their everyday? I find my life totally uninteresting. I am what people call boring.

Is this what adulthood looks like? A day that start with work and ends with sleep? I am embarrassed about it. I never thought much of it. I have spent months together doing nothing more than just logging on to work and closing my laptop and going to sleep. I never gave it a second thought.

I was missing out on life. I do not get to spend time with my family or my friends. I do not spend time doing things i love – like creating art. Ironically, art became a stress reliever for me rather than something that I spent time with “just because”.

Do others also feel like this? Like their life is losing its purpose. Just going through the motions day after day without any thought to the “why”.

The truth is, everyone needs something to look forward to. A reason to wake up with anticipation instead of resignation. With all the ups and downs in my life I stopped hoping. I was mechanical. . I had no bigger goals or dreams behind it.

Time to reset that part of me. I am going to try making small goals. It is what is suggested you see. Given that I have a history of not staying on course it makes sense. The small wins will encourage me to make larger ones. Hopefully.

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 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.