When Life Goes Sideways....

You’re plugging along, doing your everyday amazing, and then a blast of unexpected hits out of nowhere. For me, it was my partner, Harold. A simple outpatient surgery turned into weeks of in and out of the hospital. Heavy duty meds. Nurse visits. And I never ever dreamed, me, as the nurse in between. 

The good side mattered so much. Supportive family and friends. A grumpy but cooperative patient. A safe, comfortable home. Effective medications. And now, two months later, a partner who is healing.

Hard things have a way of piling on. Your mom falls and suddenly you’re managing rehab appointments and insurance forms you’ve never seen before. Your teen melts down the same week the car battery dies and your work project is due. A pipe bursts at 2 a.m. and the living room turns into a wading pool.  And for many of us right now, the hit is money. A job loss. Hours cut. A big client disappears, and the math stops working. None of this asks permission from us. It just shows up. 

So how do we keep our cool, be strong and proactive, and still let the fear, grief, and overwhelm have their honest place?

Here’s what helps me. Simple, repeatable things. Not magic. Just anchors when we need them.

What I reach for first

• Prayer. Short and steady. I whisper a thank you at the sink, ask for help in the car, and hand over what I cannot control. No perfect words. Just honesty.

• Quiet time. Ten minutes with the phone in another room. Eyes closed or staring at the trees. I ask, what needs me right now, and what can wait.

• A long bath. I treat it like medicine. Lights low, a cup of tea nearby, and nobody gets to ask me questions until the water drains.

• Breath. In for 4, out for 6. Ten rounds. It takes less than two minutes and drops my shoulders from my ears. I can feel the tension ease.

• Short walks. To the mailbox. Around the block. I let the muscle memory do the work. If I cry behind sunglasses, that simple release is relaxing..

• A good cry. I give it ten minutes. Tissues, timer, go. Then I splash water on my face and do the next right thing.

• Short breaks. Thirty on, ten off if I can. Fold clothes & put them away, then step outside. Call the pharmacy, prepare the grocery list, then sit with my tea. Little resets keep me from tipping.

Staying on track while the track keeps moving

When life is messy, clarity has to be simple. I use a small pocket plan.

1. Triage the day. Must do, should do, could do. Must do gets my energy before breakfast.

2. Pick three rocks. Three things that move care or life forward. Refill prescriptions, call the doctor, pay the one bill that is red.

3. Shrink the routine. I keep a mini morning and a mini night. Brush teeth, make the bed, one protein, one vegetable. Consistency beats perfection (and you never know what will happen in between so it’s vital to get the basics in your routine)

4. Write a boundary script. Two lines ready to go. My favorite: Thank you for caring. We’re following the plan we have. I’m low on energy for more advice right now.

5. Ask for help with specifics. People mean it when they say they want to help. Give them a job. Can you bring soup Wednesday. Can you sit with Harold from 2 to 4 so I can walk.

6. Park the information. I keep one notebook or one notes app for symptoms, meds, questions, names, numbers. One place keeps my mind clear.

7. Close the day. Three lines in a journal. What went right. What I learned. What I want to remember for tomorrow.

When money is the curveball

If the hit is financial, add a money triage. It lowers panic and buys time.

• Stop the bleed for 24 hours. Freeze spending that is not food, housing, medicine, or essential transport. Pause subscriptions. Unlink cards from apps that love to auto renew.

• Protect the four walls. Housing, utilities, food, transportation. Pay or arrange these first. Everything else negotiates later.

• Make the calls. Ask for hardship plans and payment pauses. Sample script: _Hi, I’m experiencing a temporary loss of income. What hardship or payment plan options do you have for the next 60 to 90 days.

• List every bill by date. Circle the ones you must keep current to avoid bigger fallout. Put due dates on your calendar with a reminder two days ahead.

• Check your benefits. File for unemployment if eligible. Look at health coverage options, including employer extensions or Marketplace. Ask doctors and pharmacies about generic options and discount programs.

• Name one bridge plan for the next 30 days. A short no spend list. Pantry meals. Carpool. Library card. Free community resources. Temporary side work if your energy allows.

If you lost a big client or contract

For my self employed friends, here’s a simple rebuild plan.

• Bridge offers. List 3 small services you can deliver fast. Think audit, setup, refresh, or a 2 week sprint.

• Call five past clients. A real call or a short email. Quick script: Hi Sam, I have two openings this month for a 2 week [service].t’s a focused sprint with clear deliverables. Want details.
  

• Trim the spend to match the current month. Cancel tools you can live without for 60 days. Keep only what earns money.

• Say yes to a gap job if needed. Pride is expensive. Stability is a gift.

• Create a simple weekly plan. Three outreach actions, two deliverables, one learning block. Repeat.

A little fun to cut the static

We can laugh in the rubble. It doesn’t cancel the pain. It gives the nervous system a breather. I keep a small chaos kit.

• Comfy socks with ridiculous patterns

• A playlist that swings from Motown to soft piano

• Library books and free puzzles from the swap shelf

• A show/movie that asks nothing of me

• Butter mints in a jar (mmm!)

• A silly game on my phone I only play during hold music

• Lavender lotion by the bed

• A stack of cheerful note cards to write one sentence to a friend

• Free joy list on the fridge. Sunset walk, hot bath, call Amy and Taylor, take Lou for a walk, board games, potluck soup night, wine with Helen

Add your own weird. Nurture my plants. Dog or baby videos (oh how I love these). Dateline binge. Tiny sparks matter.

How to help someone who is in it

If you’re the friend or the neighbor, here’s gold.

• Offer something concrete. I can drop dinner Tuesday or Thursday. I can do the school run at 3 this week.

• Bring food in disposable containers with clear labels. Text when you leave it on the porch. No doorbell needed.

• Walk the dog. Scoop the yard. Take the trash cans out and in. Quiet help is a love note.

• Sit and be still. No fixing, just presence. Ten minutes can reset the whole day.

• Send one line check ins. Thinking of you. No need to reply. That last part is a gift.

• Gift cards for gas, groceries, or takeout. Zero guessing, all relief.

• Ask before advising. Do you want ideas or do you want me to listen.

• If money is tight, help quietly. Pay a bill without fanfare if you can. Share job leads. Offer a ride to interviews. Host a free swap night for clothes or household items.

Letting fear and grief move through

We do not have to be stoic statues. Our bodies are built to feel and release.

• Name it out loud. I feel scared. I feel angry. I feel tired. Naming settles the body.

• Schedule a worry window. Ten minutes after lunch. Write every scary thought. Then close the notebook and return to the present.

• Cry in the shower. Hot water, loud vent fan, let it out.

• Move it. Walk fast for five minutes. Shake your hands. Stretch your chest. Let the charge burn off.

• One safe person. Pick the friend who can hold it. Text a code word when you’re at your limit. Mine is banana. No analysis, just a call or a hug.

A real day in our house right now

Morning meds, coffee, and a quick prayer while the kettle sings. I scan my three rocks and send one text to our care circle. Harold grumbles about the pill that tastes like chalk, then grins at me. Nurse arrives. I listen, write the important bits in the notebook, ask the one question I kept forgetting last week. After lunch, I walk the block. I might cry because I I need the release.  The neighbor waves and keeps moving. It helps. We are minding our simple budget too. Pantry soup for dinner. Lights off in rooms we aren’t using. A favorite movie rerun.. Or we might go to another doctor appointment or the emergency room again - life is unpredictable right now.

Before bed, I write three lines. What went right. What I learned. What can wait until tomorrow. We sleep. The next day we do it again, a little steadier.

When life throws the next curve

Here is the truth I hold. Most storms pass or soften. Many heal. Some reshape us. We are not meant to carry them alone. Ask for help. Accept help. Do the next small right thing. Celebrate any inch of progress. Keep a bit of humor within reach. And when the weight sits heavy, breathe, cry, pray, and let someone you trust sit beside you while you do.

If you are in a hard season, I’m with you. If you love someone who is, your quiet presence matters more than you know. 

We will make it through. Not by muscling our way there, but by tending to the moment we are in. One breath. One walk. One kind text. One bowl of soup. One page in the notebook. One small yes to the care that keeps us steady.

If you’re in the soft, sweet season, walk in gratitude.

With you,

Diana
Love is ALL there is