Yesterday Was Heavy. Today Is Just Me Showing Back Up.

Yesterday was mentally and physically tough.

I don’t even know how else to say it without trying to clean it up—and I don’t want to clean it up.

It was heavy in that way where there’s nowhere to put the weight. Nothing dramatic happened. No single moment. Just that compound kind of stress that stacks quietly until you don’t know where to go with it anymore.

And when that happens, your mind doesn’t try to escape.

It traps you.

You sit there with the thoughts. You feel them pressing in. And even though you want relief, your body doesn’t move toward it. It just… stays.

Yesterday felt like that.

Emotional.

Anxious.

Empty.

Lonely.

Confusing.

Paralyzing.

There are probably a hundred words that fit, but none of them really explain it unless you’ve been there. And I know someone reading this has. Maybe you’re there right now.

The part that messes with you is knowing you’ve been through worse.

You tell yourself, “I’ve handled tougher than this.”

But that doesn’t stop the walls from closing in when they decide to.

And the messed up part is—you know you’re probably going to have to deal with the same thing again tomorrow. Or later today. So it doesn’t even feel like a moment you can escape from. It feels ongoing.

This morning was different, though.

Not magically better. Just… different.

I noticed it in the shower. I wasn’t carrying yesterday the same way. And that’s when it hit me—there were things I used to do that made me feel grounded. Things I’d stopped doing without realizing how much they mattered.

Yesterday didn’t come out of nowhere.

It came from drift.

I wasn’t eating the way I normally do.

I hadn’t exercised in a while.

My sleep was wrecked.

I went to bed at five in the morning and woke up an hour later to get my son ready for school. Still showed up. Still did the thing. But nothing about my routine was intact after that.

And there was a deadline.

So the deadline took priority over me.

That’s how it always starts.

By midday, I realized I hadn’t eaten. My thoughts were scattered. I could feel myself slipping, but I didn’t have the energy to correct it properly. I tried to backtrack. Tried to patch things together. Tried to recreate a routine after the fact.

It helped a little.

But the real shift didn’t happen until later that night.

I had two long conversations with my mom.

And somewhere in those conversations, I found my why again.

Not the motivational kind. Not the “say it to the camera” kind. The quiet one. The internal one. The one that reminds you who you are underneath the noise.

When you lose that—even temporarily—you don’t just feel off.

You feel lost.

I didn’t end the night fixed.

I just ended it anchored.

And that mattered.

Because when I woke up this morning, that’s what was still there. My why. The one I had before yesterday. The one I forgot I’d drifted from.

This morning was still a struggle, though.

I almost didn’t record this.

Procrastination almost won again.

But I saw the red button was on. And that meant something. It meant progress. Even if it was messy. Even if I didn’t know where the words were going.

Yesterday was yesterday.

Today is just an opportunity to refocus.

Readjust.

Figure out what was working.

Figure out what wasn’t.

Put some definition around the confusion so it doesn’t keep running the show.

My mom used to say, “Every little mickle makes a muck.”

Small changes matter more than we give them credit for.

So today, I’m putting exercise back in.

I’m respecting sleep again.

I’m paying attention to what I eat.

Not perfectly. Intentionally.

And I needed to record this—not for content, not for consistency, not to teach anyone anything—but to get these thoughts out of my head and into the open so they stop circling.

If you’re reading this and you’re in that same place—where everything feels tight and loud and heavy—I don’t have advice for you.

I just wanted you to know you’re not broken.

You’re not weak.

And you’re not alone in it.

Sometimes the most important thing you can do is press record.

Or write the thing.

Or go for the walk.

Or put your shoes on even if you don’t feel ready.

That’s where I’m at today.

I’m going to go move my body now.

I’ll be back tomorrow.

Peace.