The Middle of the Muddle: Finding the Tiny Shifts That Count

It’s hard to accept that when your head is a fog, finding your way doesn’t happen all at once like a breakthrough. It's not a big 'lightbulb moment.' Some days you’re just fumbling through an inch at a time. But every once in a while—maybe while I'm just making my breakfast or even staring out the window—everything just feels … okay for a second. In that moment, I’ll realise I’m doing it—I'm managing, even if it’s just in tiny steps. It hits me that I’m tougher than I thought, still quietly showing up even when the fog is thickest. It’s a small thing, but it’s enough to make me stop and think that I might actually be okay with who I see.

The thing is, it’s hard to hold onto that feeling when the world feels like a house of mirrors. Everything gets distorted, and you're not quite sure which 'you' is the real one. Even the simple stuff feels warped and overwhelming, and your mind can wander off into those dark corners or get stuck on a 'what-if' loop before you’ve even finished your morning cuppa.

And it’s not just the mirrors—it’s the noise. I used to get so wound up whenever I felt like I’d 'lost my place' or like I was somehow back at square one. But I am trying to remind myself that it's not that I’m broken; my head is just way too loud. It’s like trying to have a quiet conversation while the news is blasting in the next room, a dog is barking, and my phone is buzzing its head off on the table. One part of me is panicking about next week, another is cringing at something I said years ago, and the rest of me is just trying to find my keys. It’s not that I’m lost—I just can't hear myself think over all the racket.

It’s so easy to feel like I’m just standing still. I keep waiting for this moment where I finally 'get it together' and everything is suddenly clear—but let's face it, life doesn't work like that. Most of the time, I'm just fumbling around while it’s still noisy as hell in my head. It’s clumsy and it’s frustrating, and I usually don't feel like I'm 'making it' at all. But maybe I can slowly start to accept that just showing up when it’s this loud is actually more than enough.

I don't know about you but I have this bad habit of ignoring the stuff that actually takes the most out of me, mostly because it looks so small from the outside. I tell myself that just getting through the day, or finally answering that one email, or choosing to sit on the sofa instead of falling apart doesn’t really 'count.' I’m always waiting for some massive change, so I miss the fact that just holding it together when things are heavy is actually the hardest work I'm doing.

But when it's this loud in my head, those small things are actually huge. I don’t realise how much it takes to just take a breath instead of snapping. I forget about the times I actually questioned a mean thought about myself instead of just letting it win. There's a real sort of gutsiness in just reaching out to a friend when every instinct I have is telling me to just hide under the duvet

I’m starting to see that if 'finding my feet' feels like a mountain I’m not ready for yet, I have to just let that be. I don’t need to find some brand-new version of myself to get through this—I'm already the one doing all the heavy lifting. Sometimes it’s just about a tiny shift. It’s not about 'fixing' my life; it’s just finding small ways to remind myself that I’m still in there, even when the fog is thick. It’s just proof that despite all the noise, I’m still the one calling the shots.

I’ve even found that when things feel particularly heavy, I find myself almost coaxing myself just to take that next step. Like I'm telling myself I only have to do one tiny thing—just putting on my socks or doing the washing up. It’s not really about the socks; it’s just about proving to myself that I can still get something done, even if it's just that one thing.

I’m also trying to watch out for the mean stuff my head says when I’m tired. Instead of trying to force myself to be 'positive'—which never works anyway—I’m just trying to accept that my brain is probably just talking rubbish because it's exhausted. Like when I’m convinced I’ve 'wasted the whole day,' I’ll tell myself that’s just the tiredness talking, not the truth. Just admitting that a feeling is just... a feeling... lets me take the pressure off for a second. I’m definitely not there yet, and I'm still figuring it out. But I’m learning that I don’t have to be perfect to be doing alright. I’m just taking the tiny wins where I can find them.

And honestly, some days the kindest thing I can do is just admit when I’m stuck in the mud. If I’ve been sitting in the same spot for an hour, feeling paralysed by a to-do list that isn’t moving, I’m trying to stop being so hard on myself about it. I’m starting to see that I’m never going to be some perfect stranger who has it all figured out. I’ll probably still lose my keys and forget I’ve already boiled the kettle—I’m just learning how to be a bit kinder to myself while I'm doing it. It’s finally clicked that not making a rubbish day even worse by being mean to myself is actually plenty.

I’m starting to think I don’t have to love any of this right now. I certainly don't have to put a brave face on. It’s enough to just notice that I’m getting through things a bit differently than I did last year—or even an hour ago. All those tiny, quiet moments where I chose to keep going, even when my head was a mess, they actually count for something. I used to think I was waiting for some 'new' me to show up and save the day, but it turns out it’s just been me all along, just doing my best in the middle of the muddle ☺️.

It’s beginning to dawn on me that I’m allowed to like that person—even if I’m still just getting to know them. It’s like hearing the ice cream van chime when you’re in the middle of a stressful afternoon. It’s completely unexpected, a bit ridiculous, and doesn’t actually solve any of your problems—but you still find yourself scrambling for change and running to the front door. I’m learning that these little 'sunshine moments' don't have to be profound to be important. Sometimes the win is just noticing the music and deciding to join in.

So for today, I’m putting the to-do list aside, listening for the music, and trusting that being a 'work in progress' is actually a pretty good place to be.

Thanks for reading and virtual hugs to you all