There are days you don’t want to die, but you also don’t really want to be here. You’re breathing, but it feels like you’re fading. You’re not in crisis enough to call it an emergency… but you’re not okay either. This is for those days. Not a ten-step miracle cure. Just a handful of small things you can still do when you’re trying not to disappear.
One: start with this – eat something real. Not junk. Not I’ll just have coffee. Not nothing. Grab something that actually exists in the real world-a banana, some eggs, a sandwich you didn’t microwave from a box. It doesn’t have to be Instagram-worthy, it just has to be real. God didn’t design you to slowly starve your body and spirit. He made you with taste buds on purpose. So taste. Even if everything inside you feels numb, taking a bite is a quiet way of saying, I’m still here. I’m still worth feeding.
Two: Step outside-let the air find you. You don’t have to go on a five-mile walk. You don’t even have to feel better. Just open the door. Stand on the porch. Sit on the steps. Walk to the mailbox. Five minutes, ten-whatever your legs and your brain will give you today. He leads me beside still waters-sometimes still waters is just cool air on your face and the reminder that the world is still turning, even if you feel stuck. Don’t chase peace. Just let the air hit your skin and remember: you are still part of this world. You still belong here.
Three: Read one verse-even if you don’t feel spiritual. Proverbs four twelve: When you walk, your steps will not be hindered; when you run, you will not stumble. John ten twenty-seven: My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. Let the words in. That’s prayer too. Quiet reading. Quiet listening. Let one sentence from God sit beside your pain and remind you-you’re still seen, still known, still led, even in this fog.
Four: Call one person-just to prove you’re real. Not to fix everything. Not to unload. Just, hey, I’m here. I’m breathing. Just wanted to say hi. You don’t have to explain. Just break the silence that tells you no one would notice if you disappeared.
Five: Breathe like it matters. In for four, hold for four, out for four-three times. It’s basic. It works. Think of it like letting God exhale into your lungs-every breath is still a gift, even the heavy ones.
Six: Forgive yourself out loud. I still showed up. I ate. I got air. I breathed. I’m here. That’s victory.
When you manage one, or three, or even all of these—you’re doing more than just surviving. You’re being held: by a God who truly sees you, by people who care deeply, by a future that’s unfolding even if it’s hidden from view right now. You’re not disappearing. You’re still here. And that matters far more than you can imagine.
By Joshua Bridges
YOU {R} NOT ALONE YOU HAVE A VOICE! 