Some days you can't fix anything. You can barely get out of bed.
I've had a lot of those days since my daughter Zoe died. Here's how I wrote about the first stretch, at the end of my book:
"After such a loss, such a deep well of grief, what comes next? The next day. And the next day. And the next."
That's about all I could see back then. The next day.
My Gram taught me something when I was a little girl that I didn't understand until I was grieving my own child. She told me:
"You can choose what to do with your fear and your anger. You can choose to let it stay in your body, or let it go."
I want to be careful here. Choice doesn't mean you can choose to stop hurting. You can't. I couldn't.
What I mean is smaller than that. On a heavy day I pick one thing I can do. Water the plants. Take a shower. Walk to the mailbox. Call one person. That's it. Then I pick the next one.
I wrote this line about it:
"We wake up every day in choice, whether it feels like it or not."
Some days it doesn't feel like it at all. The small thing still counts.
Make your list on a good day
On a bad day, you won't remember what helps. So write it down on a good one.
Grab a notebook or the notes app on your phone.
Write down who you can call.
Write down what gets you out of the house, even for five minutes.
Write down what helps your body: a shower, a walk, a song, a cup of tea.
Keep the list somewhere you'll see it.
My free workbook, The Alchemy of Healing + the In-Between, walks you through it, with journaling prompts and breathing basics. Get it here.