Tag: mental-health

Yoga mat beside open journal and bowl of fruit on wooden floor near window

Day 221: Trying to

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have heard over and over again that to develop good behavior you don’t need to be perfect — you just need to be consistent. But that’s where I struggle. I always want things to be good because I don’t want people to find fault in what I do. I think I probably want their appreciation, but the main thing I worry about is someone saying that it’s bad. I don’t particularly want everyone to like what I do, but I really don’t want anyone to hate it. Is that a shallow thought? I end up spending way too much time trying to perfect the things I do, and at some point I feel it’s taking too much time. Then I decide it isn’t worth it, and my hope of starting a good habit fades away. With the pressure of work and studies, good habits fall out of the list of things that get done in the day.

I wanted to make exercise a daily thing just to keep myself healthy. I tried for three months, but the body aches kept getting worse and worse until I gave up. The thought of pain made me want to take a break. I kept thinking I would get back to it, but the truth is I never actually did.

I wanted to stop eating outside food and start cooking at home. I wanted to learn different recipes. I don’t have a refined palate — if it were up to me, I could probably live on instant food for the rest of my life. But I knew it wasn’t healthy, and I wanted to eat better. I managed to cook for two days in a week, and then I was done. By day two I felt exhausted and didn’t have the energy to try again.

Another thing I lose is my hobbies and passion projects. I wanted to start writing again. I’ve always wanted to write my own novel. When I was 13, I wrote the first chapter after months of creating characters and a plot line. It took me four months because I kept re‑editing it. But as schoolwork increased, I dropped the weekly writing practice.

I also wanted to continue improving my art skills. I started drawing whenever I found time — between school notes and random pieces of paper. Over time, I collected a lot of sketches stuffed into a file. I wanted to learn portrait painting, but I never put in the time to improve.

When it comes to sleep versus good habits, sleep wins. And when work and study come into the picture, hobbies fall off my mind. I am trying to stay consistent. I am trying to make a better version of myself. This year I thought I would start doing things every day, but it’s like I start and then stop, start again, go on for some days, and then stop again. Consistency is my Everest, and I am hoping that maybe this time around, I can conquer it.

Person standing on rocky cliff edge facing sunset over ocean

Day 218: Falling, Failing and Finding a way to hold on

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It has been more than 200 days since my diagnosis was confirmed, and the weight of it still lingers. I often feel like I’m falling—slipping into fear whenever I think about being alone. The thought of pain flaring up and causing me to stumble or collapse is always at the back of my mind. Independence, something I once took for granted, now feels fragile.

There are days when I feel like I’m failing. I want to reassure my family that I can manage on my own, that I am capable of caring for myself. Yet doubts creep in, whispering that I’m not strong enough. I don’t ask for extraordinary achievements; I only want to do the ordinary things—tasks that make up a normal life—without fear or dependence. But impatience grows as each month passes, reminding me that I’m not yet back to my old self. The mantra “You are better than before” has started to lose its power, and negativity presses harder against the walls I try to build.

And yet, I keep searching for a way to hold on. I remind myself that healing is slow, that years of damage cannot be undone in months. I look at people who seem to carry positivity like a shield and wonder how they manage it all day long. Their willpower feels extraordinary. If I could capture even a fraction of that strength, I believe I could reshape my life.

Holding on doesn’t mean ignoring the fear or denying the setbacks. It means acknowledging the falls, accepting the failures, and still choosing to keep moving forward. That, I think, is where resilience begins.

Woman writing a detailed travel bucket list in a notebook at a wooden desk

Not Every Dream is a Waste of Time

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Daily writing prompt
What’s a lesson you’ve learned recently that shifted your perspective?
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I grew up in a middle-class, working-class family where life revolved around work. My parents labored endlessly, and their idea of fun was taking us to the park. Even then, while we ran around carefree, they sat together on the bench, whispering about the next bill, calculating how to stretch every rupee, every dollar, every ounce of energy. Their lives were a constant negotiation between responsibility and survival.

For years, I believed my path would be no different. I imagined myself joining the cycle of endless work, exhausting my body and spirit to provide for my family, hoping that by the time age caught up with me, I’d have just enough to sustain myself. That was the script I thought I had to follow.

But something has shifted. These days, I’ve started to dream — not the fleeting kind that comes with sleep, but the conscious, deliberate kind that plants hope in the cracks of reality. I know there’s a high chance I may never achieve all that I dream of, and strangely, I’m at peace with that. Because I’ve realized it’s not the fulfillment of dreams that keeps us alive, but the act of dreaming itself. To imagine a life beyond the grind is not foolish; it’s a declaration that we deserve more than survival.

For the first time, I’ve made a bucket list. Ninety percent of the items feel out of reach, but they’re there anyway. To act as reminders of what I want, of who I am beyond the paycheck. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. And even if someday never comes, the list itself is proof that I’ve allowed myself to hope.

Being practical is wise, yes. But sometimes, being impractical and daring to dream of possibilities is what makes life bearable. Dreams are the spark that light up the monotony, the quiet rebellion against a world that tells us to only endure. They are the whispers that say: you deserve better, you deserve more.

Person sleeping in bed under blue and gray blankets with bedside table lamp on

Rituals for better Sleep

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Daily writing prompt
What do you do to improve your sleep?
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Sleep is one of the most amazing experiences you can have in a day. To enjoy uninterrupted rest, a good dream, and wake up feeling refreshed is truly a blessing.

I’m someone who struggles to get even the bare minimum of six hours of sleep every day, so I sometimes feel hypocritical talking about it. But if no one were judging me, I’d say the first step toward good sleep is to avoid anything that keeps the mind active before bed. Let the day mellow out so that the body’s exhaustion reaches the mind. When I need to get things done, I keep chanting “mind over matter,” and even if my body is exhausted, I find the strength to push through. Logically, doing the opposite should encourage sleep: once the mind shuts down, the body will follow.

One good habit I’ve maintained is not having coffee after 6 p.m.. Even when I feel extremely sleepy in the evening, if the clock shows a time past six, I stop myself. I drink very strong coffee, and it definitely affects me — I end up staying awake into the early hours. Along with coffee, I also restrict sugar. I don’t usually like sweets or chocolates, but on the days I do have them, I get that “sugar rush” — feeling excited and restless, which makes sleep harder.

Another thing I follow is wearing comfortable clothes. I’m not sure if it directly improves sleep, but I feel more relaxed when I’m comfortable. Good pillows and light sheets help too (though in winter, heavier sheets or a duvet are necessary).

Most importantly, I’ve started a new approach: going to bed when I’m actually sleepy. In those moments, the sleep I get is so good — deep, natural, and truly restorative.

A person sitting with head down surrounded by dark ghostly faces and swirling words like doubt, fear, and overwhelmed

Coping with the Emotional Currents

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Daily writing prompt
What’s the best way to deal with negative thoughts?
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I am probably not the right person to answer this. People say you learn to handle things better over time, that practice makes you stronger. But in my case, the skill of dealing with negative thoughts has taken a downward trajectory. As a child, my approach was simple: I replaced negative thoughts with happy memories. That remains, to this day, the most effective tactic I’ve ever used. Since then, however, my strategies have spread like wildfire — often destructive rather than helpful.

Case in point: Strategy One — Compartmentalize and deal with it later. On the surface, this is a sound idea. I’ve learned to compartmentalize effectively, but the “deal with it later” part rarely happens. Instead, those compartments pile up. And there’s only so much space you can create before it all spills over, leading to an epic breakdown. I’ve had more than a few of those. You’d think I would have learned to process my bad thoughts at the right time, but that hasn’t been the case. Instead, I’ve scolded myself for being older now, telling myself I should simply be stronger.

Strategy Two — Analyzing the situation (or rather, overanalyzing). This one is even trickier. I start with the intention of figuring out what went wrong and how I can improve. But instead of constructive reflection, I turn cruelly critical. I list out, in excruciating detail, why I am the reason for everything wrong — not just in the situation, but in everything happening around me. That blame session drags on for days, until I’m mentally exhausted, and inevitably, another breakdown follows.

I don’t know if there’s a universally effective way to deal with negative emotions. I suspect it’s different for everyone. Some people probably use compartmentalizing and analyzing in healthy, productive ways. For me, though, the one thing that consistently works is writing. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, drowning in emotions, I grab a random piece of paper and pen and write it all down. The result is often depressing poems, but by the end, I feel lighter — as though a weight has lifted from my shoulders. Writing doesn’t solve the situation, but it acknowledges my feelings. And that acknowledgment makes all the difference.

Teenage girl writing in a notebook at a desk in a bedroom with Harry Potter poster and packed boxes

Day 211: Finding my Independence

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Being the younger child in the family comes with a lot of privileges, but it also comes with its challenges. While I am extremely pampered because my parents literally want to do everything for me, they do not set high expectations because they don’t want me to feel burdened. They are always happy with whatever I achieve, no matter how insignificant it is.

I have now come to a stage in my life where I want to live independently. I want to have my own home — and yes, my parents’ home will always be my home. But being the younger child often means your opinions or choices are not really considered. I think I want a home of my own not for the freedom that comes with it, but because I want to decorate it the way I like. I want to finally be able to buy furniture that I love. I want to have my own office room that I can set up according to my preference, without someone constantly asking, “Do you really need this? Why this? Why that?” And of course, I want to walk around my house in the clothes I like. Since I’ll essentially be by myself, I doubt relatives will visit often, and there will be no judgment on how I look.

While the prospect of living separately excites me, it also brings with it the guilt tied to the “empty nest syndrome.” I sometimes just stare at my parents doing their regular tasks and notice the shift in the way they move. They have become slower. They have become quieter. They spend most of their days just resting, ironically scrolling through the phone or watching TV. I see them huffing and letting out exasperated sighs when they take a break after doing some tasks. They are together now, but I keep thinking: should one of them leave, how will the other manage? Would it be right for me to leave them too?

But on the other hand, I’ve received very fitting advice: “You can love and care for them, but it is not your responsibility to fix their life.” It is true — parents are the most resilient class of people. Their world keeps changing, and somehow they adapt. They may not adapt in the way you believe is right, but they find a way to adjust to their new life.

And so, I return to my desire to finally break free from the nest and find a place of my own in this world.

Woman walking on sandy path toward ocean sunset with coastal cliffs

Insides Intuition

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Daily writing prompt
What’s a time you followed your gut and it turned out to be exactly right?
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For most of my life, intuition felt like a mystery. People spoke about “gut feelings” as if they were natural guides, but for me, thinking on my feet was never my strength. I second‑guessed myself constantly, replayed situations in my head, and often realized too late that I’d missed the emotional undercurrents of what was happening.

That pattern had consequences. In one relationship, my first instinct told me something was wrong. But instead of listening, I doubted myself. I convinced myself that maybe I was the problem, and in doing so, I stayed far longer in a toxic situation than I should have. My hesitation to trust my gut became a trap.

Over time, though, I began to notice something important: those initial instincts weren’t random. They were signals. When I ignored them, I regretted it. When I honored them, I avoided unnecessary pain. Now, whenever I get that uneasy feeling, I give myself permission to walk away. I don’t let the sword of “you may regret this” scare me into suppressing my feelings and making choices that would eventually hurt me.

The difference has been profound. Trusting my intuition has helped me sidestep decisions that would have drained me, and it’s given me a sense of confidence I didn’t have before. It doesn’t mean I act impulsively; it means I respect the quiet voice inside me that says, “This isn’t right.”

Intuition isn’t magic — it comes from experience and paying attention to the world around you. For me, learning to trust it has been a journey of reclaiming self‑respect. Now, when my gut tells me something’s off, I listen. And more often than not, it’s the best decision I can make.

A mountaineer wearing a red jacket, harness, and headlamp walks on a rocky ridge at sunrise with snowy mountains in the background

Don’t Give Up

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Daily writing prompt
What’s your top tip to be successful in life?
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Success is often painted as a grand destination — a shining trophy, a dream job, a house, or a title. But the truth is, success is far more personal, far more fluid, and far more humble than society makes it out to be.

As long as you don’t give up, you haven’t failed. That’s the most powerful life lesson I’ve learned. Life isn’t meant to be easy, and everyone carries their own challenges. What feels simple to one person might be someone else’s Mt. Everest.

Would I call myself successful? Honestly, I don’t think so. And maybe I never will. I was taught to always strive for better, to keep moving forward. I’ve achieved small goals — a degree, a job, milestones that others might call success. But for me, each achievement only opens the door to the next challenge.

If I earn a degree, the next step is finding a good job. If I secure that job, the next goal is saving enough to buy a home. For some, securing a job is the pinnacle of success. For me, it’s just one step on a longer journey.

The one truth that never changes is this: success comes to those who keep trying. Even when the world feels against you, even when everything seems to fall apart, resilience matters. Take the break you need. Step back if you must — even a hundred steps back. But always, always take that step forward afterward.

For me, success is simple: one day closer. Have you made it farther than you were yesterday? Not in comparison to someone else, but in comparison to yourself. If you are better today than you were yesterday, you are successful.

In a world that can be cruel and unforgiving, progress itself is victory. It may not look like success to everyone else, but it is yours — and that is more than enough.

Day 204: Coming back from the Haze

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For a hundred days, I felt like I was in a state of limbo. I don’t even know how the time slipped by. What did I accomplish in the past three months? Nothing—literally nothing.

My initial determination to avoid binge shopping and be content with what I already had completely collapsed. I started buying random things—items I had kept on my wishlist for months, only to remove them from my cart because I knew I didn’t really need them. All my reasoning was gone. I was filling a hole inside me.

Yes, I bought a few things I needed, but compared to the junk, it was nothing. I loved the dopamine rush of opening parcels from online shopping sites, even though I knew it wasn’t healthy.

I stopped reading my Bible. I stopped drawing and doing anything related to art. I stopped studying. Even at work, I don’t know what I was really doing. It felt like I just slept and woke up, over and over again.

There were ups and downs that felt like whiplash. I know I’m struggling, and I’m aware my coping mechanisms aren’t good. My wallet has taken a hit, and now sleepless nights have returned. I can’t fall asleep until 2 or 3 a.m., and I can’t sleep past 8. Some days I barely sleep 3–4 hours, while other days I want to sleep all day.

Procrastination has defined these past months—extreme procrastination. My mind kept telling me to do things, but another part of me always said, “Forget it, let’s just do it tomorrow.” But tomorrow never came.

I’ve lost six months of 2026. But I still have six months left to try again. I cannot give up on myself. I am not perfect, and I never will be—and that’s okay. What matters is being the best I can be.

So here’s to starting again. You fall, you fail, but you still need to try again. As cheesy as it sounds, it’s true. I’m praying for the will to begin again.

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.