When everything is running smoothly again and I'm falling apart inside – what bad days can look like!

This is what my bad days look like.

Hello everyone ❤️

The holidays ended on Monday. Everything is back to normal.

Work, appointments, offices, responsibilities.

Kim is back at work. I'm home alone again during the day.

My legal guardian and the social services office have also returned from vacation.

For many, this is simply everyday life.

For me, it's the moment when my internal alarm system kicks in again.

Not slowly. Not quietly. But immediately and completely.

Letters, money, and loss of control

Yesterday it finally threw me off track.

A letter from the social welfare office. In French. With content I don't understand. With benefits being credited to me even though I never received this money.

Shortly after, I received an email from my legal guardian. 400 francs "pocket money." Provisional. Until a budget is drawn up. A budget she can't finalize until I bring her more mail .

This doesn't elicit a rational reaction from me. It triggers panic and a feeling of powerlessness.

I brought her documents so many times. I handed everything over, explained it, organized it all so many times.

And yet I keep feeling that everything falls back on me – even though she should actually be a relief for me and help me.

I don't know where my money is.

I don't know how much was managed.

I don't know what was paid for and what wasn't.

I'm not getting any real answers. Only demands.

When support doesn't feel safe

This doesn't feel like support. It feels like patronizing.

A feeling of powerlessness. A feeling of being at someone's mercy.

And it's precisely these kinds of situations that completely paralyze me.

Yesterday – when nothing worked anymore

I've been constantly tense since yesterday.

My body is buzzing with energy. I'm panicking, helpless, restless inside, and at the same time frozen.

My mind was everywhere but on what I was doing. I couldn't concentrate on anything properly. That constant tingling in my stomach that I get when I'm panicking.

This is accompanied by nausea, restlessness, and the feeling of about to faint.

After the letter from the social services office and the email from my guardian, my system was completely overwhelmed.

I didn't get anything done yesterday.

My routines have completely broken down.

Even when eating.

I ate irregularly, poorly, and unbalanced.

The binge kicked in completely. Not out of hunger – but out of being overwhelmed.

I was completely beside myself. I wasn't myself anymore.

At some point, I simply escaped into my phone. For hours.

Temu. Instagram.

Scroll, search, get lost.

Not because I needed anything – but because leaving was easier than staying.

I only managed to do my skills training in the evening. I went to the office, to my craft table, cut out my laminated skills cards, and made a card for my psychologist.

Meanwhile, I listened to a true crime podcast. That calmed me down a little.

Later that evening, while helping Kim in the kitchen prepare his food for work, I repeatedly experienced brief periods of dissociation.

He initially reprimanded me for drifting away again, even though I wanted to help him.

So I concentrated even more. I weighed the ingredients with him and entered everything into his calorie-tracking app.

And only then – with clear figures, a clear task – was I able to stay focused again.

Today

I woke up early today. But being awake doesn't mean being present.

After a short walk with Blue, I lay on the couch in the dark, because that felt safer. Blue was with me. A cozy blanket covered us.

I listened to yesterday's true crime podcast again – not out of interest, but because the unfamiliar voices briefly overshadowed my own chaotic thoughts.

So I lay there until nine o'clock.

Then I quickly got some laundry, gave Blue her raw food, got us both dressed and we went out for a long walk.

We were outside for 45 minutes.

Outside I was able to calm down a bit. I could concentrate on her.

On steps.

On air.

On movement.

On everything that wasn't in my head.

For a moment it was lighter and quieter.

Back again – and everything is immediately there again

As soon as I got home, it all came flooding back. It was as if someone had flipped a switch.

My body is on high alert again. My mind is full again.

I immediately turned the podcast back on. Back into the darkness.

Back on the couch. Blue very close to me.

She's not normally allowed on the couch for so long. But today I need her with me.

In moments like these, I can't follow the rules. Not because I don't care about them – but because I'm simply overwhelmed.

When even noise is too much

On days like these, often just a noise is enough to make everything go wrong.

Footsteps in the stairwell. A door opening somewhere. Or the ringing of the front doorbell.

My heart immediately starts racing. My body goes into alarm mode.

I become frantic, overwhelmed, and inwardly panicked.

When the doorbell rang, I was startled.

My head is racing, my body is buzzing with energy. I don't know what to do first.

Something else happens when there are noises in the stairwell:

I become completely still. I freeze inside. As if I had to become invisible.

And when Blue starts barking, I get angry with her. Not because she's doing anything wrong – but because I desperately want to avoid drawing attention to ourselves.

So that nobody notices we're there.

This too is part of these days.

This mixture of anxiety, overwhelm, and sensory overload, where even harmless noises become too much.

When even sleep is no way out

At eleven o'clock I made myself something to eat and listened to podcasts again while I ate. A small attempt to get back into a routine.

But shortly after, I was lying exhausted on the couch again. Under the blanket. Blue was with me again.

And I fell asleep. Not from tiredness – but from inner stress.

I slept from 11:30 am to 1:30 pm while the podcast was playing.

After that, everything was blurry. I think I was dissociated. For about half an hour, I don't really know what happened.

I was there – but not really present.

Later, I spent a long time lost in Instagram. Not out of joy. Not out of interest.

But because drifting away is sometimes easier than being present.

When nothing else works

At some point, I started writing this text. And crying.

These are the days when I can no longer function.

Not because I don't want to. Not because I'm not trying hard enough.

But because my nervous system is in survival mode.

Money, dependency, external control – all of these are massive triggers.

My body reacts as if I were in danger.

Even if it's "just a letter" to others.

This is what my bad days look like.

They are loud inside and silent on the outside.

They are heavy, tough, and lonely.

Final thought

Perhaps not functioning on such days is not a failure, but the most honest expression of how much is simply too much.

A few personal words in closing

This text was written on a very difficult day. I'm not sharing it because I want sympathy, but because I want to show what such days can really look like – honest, unfiltered, and without functioning.

I hope this post has given you an honest insight into how such days feel to me – days when nothing works anymore.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

I wish you a day that is as gentle as possible and hope that you can treat yourselves well – no matter where you are in life right now.

❤️