5 Ways to Deal with Low Mood – Karen’s Epiphany
Karen’s favourite aunt had passed away.
It was cancer—fast, cruel, and deeply unfair. Her aunt had been her safe space, her emotional anchor, and a source of constant encouragement. Losing her was more than losing a person. It was like losing a part of herself.
At first, Karen kept herself busy—handling arrangements, checking on her mum, managing everyone else’s feelings. But once the calls stopped and the quiet settled in, the real weight landed.
“I just… don’t feel like doing anything,” she admitted one evening, staring at the same half-eaten plate she’d been picking at for hours.
Days blurred, and the joy she used to find in little things—baking, journaling, stretching in the morning sun—disappeared.
She wasn’t sobbing all the time. But she wasn’t living either.
Low mood had crept in and unpacked its bags.
What surprised her was how her body responded to her grief:
• She was tired even when she hadn’t moved.
• Her appetite bounced between nothing and too much.
• Her muscles felt heavy, her thoughts felt foggy.
• Her days started late and ended with guilt.
Karen wasn’t just mourning her aunt. She was losing herself too.
Until one moment shifted her.
💡 The Wake-Up Moment
She had texted her friend Mariam to cancel yet another walk. Mariam responded gently:
“You don’t have to talk. Just come walk. You’re not alone.”
So Karen dragged herself out with her hoodie on, earbuds in, legs heavy as lead. They walked in silence for ten minutes before Mariam asked:
“What’s one tiny thing you could do this week—just for you?”
Karen didn’t know. But later that night, something stirred.
“I can’t bring her back,” she wrote in her journal, “but I can bring me back. One step at a time.”
That was the start of her healing.
Here are the 5 real things she did to gently lift herself from the fog—and rediscover her sense of peace.
1. She Started With One Purposeful Task a Day
Karen realised the biggest trap of a low mood was feeling useless.
So she picked one small task a day—not to achieve, but to reclaim rhythm.
• One morning, she simply made her bed and opened the curtains.
• Another day, she replied to a friend’s message she’d been avoiding.
• On tough days, all she did was plan her meals in a notebook.
The goal wasn’t perfection; it was motion. That single act reminded her: I’m still here and I still matter.
Over time, those tiny wins became the scaffolding that held her up again.
2. She Moved Gently and Intentionally
Exercise felt impossible at first. Her joints ached, and she just could not get into the rhythm.
But Karen remembered how much she used to love dancing in the kitchen while cooking.
So one day, she played her aunt’s favourite old-school track while cleaning—and let herself move.
“It was the first time I felt something other than sadness in weeks,” she later told Mariam.
From there, she built slowly:
• 15 squats between emails
• Stretching while brushing her teeth
• Walking while listening to podcasts on grief, mindset, and later—entrepreneurship
Movement stopped being just about fitness; it became her medicine for emotional release.
3. She Changed How She Approached Food
Grief had made her eating erratic—either comfort food binges or forgotten meals.
Karen knew she needed to rebuild her relationship with food—as fuel, not filler.
So she made a gentle rule:
“Eat something nourishing before anything indulgent.”
Before baking, she would snack on:
• Sliced cucumber with hummus
• A boiled egg and green tea
• Greek yoghurt with nuts
• Apple slices with peanut butter
This helped her avoid indulgent snacking or emotional eating mid-afternoon.
Food became part of her healing ritual—a way of honouring her body during a hard season.
4. She Reframed Rest from Escape to Reward
Netflix and snacks became Karen’s go-to coping tools—but they stopped working.
They didn’t comfort her; they distracted her from how empty she felt.
So she made a quiet promise to herself:
“Do one meaningful thing—then relax.”
She still binged her comfort shows, but after a walk.
She still enjoyed cake—but after a nourishing lunch and a journal entry.
This small change made the rest feel earned, not empty.
5. She Leaned Into Friendship and Allowed People In
Mariam showed up—not with solutions, but with presence.
They made a deal:
• Karen would share how she felt, even in broken words.
• Mariam would keep inviting, even if Karen didn’t always say yes.
Some days, they’d just send memes.
Other days, they’d voice-note life updates.
But that constant thread reminded Karen: she was still seen, still loved, still held.
“Healing didn’t happen in isolation,” she later wrote. “It happened in connection.”
🧡 Karen’s Final Reflection
“Grief tried to shut me down. But I found small ways to keep the light on.
Not through big gestures—but little steps.
One task. One walk. One nourishing bite. One friend. One moment of choosing purpose over passivity.”
“I didn’t wait for joy to return. I walked toward it.”
If you’re grieving, hurting, or just stuck in a fog, please remember:
• You don’t have to feel better before you act.
• You can act gently, and a better feeling will follow.
• There’s no shame in starting small.
• And you are not alone.
Even a dim light matters on a dark day.
Start where you are. Breathe…Move…Reach out… Heal.
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