Day 25:

Some days feel like a slow unraveling.
Not loud or dramatic—more like a sweater snagged on a doorknob, pulling one thread at a time until suddenly half your sleeve is gone. Today was one of those days. The kind where I forget what I’ve already forgotten… and realize too late that I’ve left whole chunks of my rhythm behind.

I haven’t had my timers on the last few days.
It always starts with good intentions—I want freedom. I want to trust myself. I want to prove I’m not reliant on a phone buzz to live my life.
But then things start falling through the cracks. A skipped meal here. A missed supplement there. A blank spot in my memory where something important was supposed to be.

Because I had gotten away from a few of the important things, I knew I needed to recalibrate.
I made a list with three categories: Must. Should. Want.
I dropped in all the things I must do, the ones I should do, and the ones I REALLY wanted to do—but felt too guilty to just do. (Spoiler: all the fun snacks and bad TV somehow landed in the “Want” column.)

The plan was to ease in with a couple of shoulds, build momentum, and then move into the musts.
Let the wants be a reward.

But then I found myself standing in the kitchen, staring at the list like it was written in another language.

“Fuck this.”

I made myself cheesy chips.
Turned on a new show.
And sat down.
(Somewhere, a panel of self-help gurus clutched their vision boards in horror.)

And for the first time all day, I felt… like myself.
Not the curated version. Not the productive one. Not the woman chasing her “ideal day.”
Just a girl in sweatpants eating cheese and watching something she doesn’t have to think about. Not exactly #thatgirl energy—unless #thatgirl is covered in crumbs.

And here’s the thing I’m finally starting to admit:
Maybe my ideal self does want rest sometimes.
Maybe she does like TV.
Maybe she’s not some Pinterest-level monk who finds all her joy in to-do lists and lemon water.
Maybe the real shift is learning to stop apologizing for wanting anything at all.
…And maybe even TikTok binges that were definitely only going to be ten minutes.

Because I’ve created this imaginary version of myself who doesn’t crave dopamine.
Who never rebels.
Who only chooses what’s “best.”
And when I fail to live up to her, I don’t just feel guilt—I feel like I’ve lost.

Midday, I made a reel and deleted it.
Tried again. Deleted that too.
At this point I’m basically collecting deleted drafts like they’re Pokémon.
I felt like I was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
One foot at a time, I told myself. You can do this.
But I wasn’t totally sure I believed it.

Something must’ve shifted, though.
Because by the time I sat down to finish a different blog post—the one that was going live today—I saw something that snapped it all into focus.

I had stopped taking my supplements.

Three full days, totally forgotten.
No magnesium, no adrenal support, nothing.
Turns out my body noticed.

No wonder I felt like crap.

And the wild part? I wouldn’t have caught it if I hadn’t been logging these days.
My blog timeline is a couple of days behind real life, which gives me a small buffer… but it also gave me perspective.
I could literally see what had changed.

That’s when I stopped spiraling. Not all at once—but enough to move.

Tonight, I gave myself an evening I actually wanted—not just one I thought I should do.
Red light mask.
A mug of hot tea.
Calming tones on Spotify.
Picture a sci-fi character… but one who also vibes like your cozy grandma.
No pressure. No checklist. No performance.

I don’t do that routine often enough. But I’d like to.
Not because it makes me “better.”
But because it made me feel human again.
And maybe that’s the only must that really matters.

---