There are days when my brain feels like a beautifully lit room full of windows. This week, it felt like a cramped dusty box. But we have to keep going.
I’m not writing this from the other side of that experience — still here. But I am writing it. And maybe that’s the only truth that matters today:
That I keep going.
We don’t talk enough about the quiet, foggy days. The ones that don’t feel like a full-blown crisis, but still feel off. You’re not in danger. Nothing bad has happened. You’re healthy. Your loved ones are okay. Life, by most measures, is fine. But you’re off and you know it.
If you’ve ever felt that strange disconnection, this post is for you.
Here’s a song to play in the background as we take this deep dive into the fog: Flawed Mangoes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UfJxwynnQ4
What Hard Days Can Look Like (Even When Life Is “Fine”)
Sometimes, the most difficult days don’t look dramatic from the outside. They look like:
- Emotional disconnection. You go through the motions but feel flat inside.
- Mental fog. Easy tasks take three tries. You reread the same sentence and still don’t absorb it.
- Shame. You wonder, “What’s wrong with me? I have so much to be grateful for.”
- Time stretching weirdly. Hours pass slowly but you don’t remember what you did.
- A feeling of being… misplaced. Like you’ve momentarily forgotten how to be yourself.
You might not even recognize this as a “hard day” — but your body and mind feel the weight. And that weight is real.
How to Keep Going on Hard Days (Even When You Can’t “Fix” Them)
When you can’t power through, these softer approaches matter more:
1. Ask: “What would make this 2% better?”
Not perfect. Not fixed. Not even “better” in the traditional sense. Just 2%.
Maybe it’s stepping outside for five minutes. Putting on music. Drinking water. Reaching out to someone without needing a solution.
Tiny shifts can reawaken something.
2. Time is more powerful than you think.
You don’t have to solve everything in one day.
Sometimes the only work is staying with yourself long enough to let the fog lift naturally.
Trusting that tomorrow might feel different — even if you don’t know why — is a form of faith.
3. Grace over grit.
You’ve been strong before. You’ll be strong again. But today, your power might look like gentleness.
Turning down the inner drill sergeant and turning up the softness. “We’re okay. Let’s just rest here a minute.”
4. Remind yourself: This feeling isn’t forever.
Not in a dismissive, “just get over it” way — but in a compassionate, honest way.
Your feelings are allowed to be here. And they’re also allowed to pass.
5. Check out my top tips for snapping out of existential angst here:
If all you did today was make it to the next moment, that’s still forward motion.
If you’re reading this while feeling foggy, frozen, or low — I hope you let this be enough:
- You’re not broken.
- You’re not lazy.
- You’re not ungrateful.
- You’re just in something. And you’ll get through it.
And even if you don’t know what to call it, you can still keep going — slowly, gently, honestly.
The Magic Is Still There (Even If You Can’t See It Today)
So no — I’m not fully on the other side of the fog. But I’m still here.
And I’ve learned that sometimes, staying with yourself is the most radical thing you can do.
Especially on days when your brain wants to shut down, your energy disappears, and you feel unrecognizable even to yourself.
If today feels like a cramped, locked box — you’re not alone.
You don’t have to force your way out.
Just knock gently.
Breathe.
Stretch.
Text someone you love.
Write one sentence.
Drink some water.
Cry, if you need to.
And tomorrow, when you try again, it might feel different.
Keep going — even if you don’t know what that means yet.
You’re doing better than you think.
Now you tell me: What are some ways you get through those hard, foggy days?
