How I Made My Existential Crisis More… Bearable
Or "Things That Help (When Things Aren’t Helping)"
If you haven’t heard… 2022 through 2024 had their way with me. You could call it an existential crisis. You could call it a breakdown. A dark night of the soul. Or just, you know, a bit of a shit time.
Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you’re there right now.
So this is a collection of the things that didn’t make anything worse. Which, for a while, was my definition of success.
These aren’t aspirational. These aren’t the “habits of highly effective people.” These are the barely-habits of someone who refused to get up at 4:30am to juice celery, and somehow still clawed their way back to something resembling a self.
I offer them here in case you're in the thick of it, or find yourself there at some point. I hope at least one of these weirdly gentle practices lights a little candle for you, however briefly.
1. Cycle Tracking
Let’s begin with the one I never expected to become evangelical about.
Cycle tracking isn’t sexy. It’s not some gleaming new wellness trend. It takes almost no time, and yet it’s become one of the most quietly revolutionary things I do.
I’m giving the app I use a solid 8/10 for usefulness and a 2/10 for aesthetic appeal. But the clarity it brings? 10/10.
What it means, practically: I log my period. Mood changes. Sometimes weird symptoms. Not because I want to “hack” anything, but because knowing that my entire personality is about to dissolve into a weepy soup for a few days helps me soften. Helps me warn loved ones. Helps me not take myself so seriously.
My body is different, I literally look different, I can sound different, say very different things, think differently and of course feel incredibly different from one part of my cycle to the next.
And that’s the beauty and horror of the menstrual cycle: we are constantly in flux… but no state lasts FOREVER. Pretty much the same as everything else in life.
2. Journalling
Look, I know. Everyone says to journal. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, and I still don’t always want to do it.
But I’ve never, not once, regretted doing it.
It’s not about being profound. It’s about clearing the brain fog. I take my morning ‘brain dump (sorry), and 9 times out of 10, that alone helps me see what’s actually going on underneath.
3. Jigsaw Puzzles & Trash TV
My lowest point (or highest, depending on your perspective) was probably doing a 500-piece jigsaw of a Devonshire cottage while watching Season #143 of Keeping Up With the Kardashians.
I now think of it as an art form: meditative disintegration of the ego, featuring fake tan and nose jobs.
With puzzles, it’s not about the final image. It’s about the process. You build something pointless. You destroy it immediately. You give your inner productivity monster a day off. That, to me, is a spiritual practice.
And the trash TV? I think of it as necessary ego detangling. It's important to let the superego sit down, shut up, and watch Khloe Kardashian organise her fridge.
3. Comfort Music
I don’t listen to new music. There, I said it.
I mostly rotate a playlist that’s 100% early 2000s pop punk. This seems to work for my nervous system.
Music isn’t research. It doesn’t need to teach me anything. It’s allowed to just… make me feel something. Ideally loudly. Ideally in my pjs, alone in my living room, shouting along to lyrics I thought I had forgotten, but have firmly ingrained themselves into my long-term memory.
4. Movement (Not Workouts)
Another one that took me years to unlearn: movement isn’t just about changing your body.
My body is, more or less, the same as it was when I was dragging myself to the gym in my 20s. The only difference is: now I actually like it. And I’m not at war with it.
My movement menu now includes: gentle yoga, pop punk dance parties, slow walks, lying down and thinking about moving.
Sometimes I don’t move at all. But when I do, it’s not because I’m punishing myself. It’s because I want to feel more OK with being here.
5. Connect With a Human (yes, even my fellow introverts)
I used to pride myself on being “low maintenance” in relationships. Which was just another way of saying I waited to be invited.
Lately, I’ve been practicing initiating contact. Sometimes just a text. I set the bar low for myself, because it’s awkward. Vulnerable. But it’s also 100% worth it.
We all need people. Even if your daimon is *excellent* company.
Things That Don’t Help (Learned the Hard Way)
Social Media
We all know these apps are designed to make you feel bad. Well, at the very least to sell us stuff. I don’t have much else to add. I just know that when I spend less time in them, I like myself and my fate, much more.
The News
In times of global chaos, news cycles can flood your brain with negativity and make you feel powerless. Each to their own, call my ignorant, head in the sand… But I’d just rather not let the endless chaos into my bloodstream.
Sometimes… Astrology
Let’s be honest: even the tools we love can become cages. If astrology becomes another way to feel anxious or stuck, that’s a sign to step back. (And I say that as someone whose job it is to talk about fate for a living.)
PSA: Something New (But Not Exhausting)
If you’re currently in your own existential funk, or just like the idea of prepping for one before it arrives (wise), I’m hosting a live workshop on July 11th at 7pm UK / 2pm Eastern.
It’s called (working title): Build a DIY Lifeboat for Turbulent Times
It’s not about “getting your life together.” It’s about building a little raft with the things that actually work for you. Things that make life more bearable on a Tuesday in November when your brain is a fog and the world feels 3 degrees too loud.
We’ll look at:
Rituals, habits, and comforts that genuinely help
What your birth chart says about your personal survival strategies
How to gently rebel against the self-help industrial complex
It’s open to all Patreon tiers (£5+), not just the top one.
👉 Sign up here
Till next time, here’s to loving our fate (or at least, learning to) xx