From Fog to Focus: What Helped Me Move Through Depression
There was a season in my life where I couldn’t feel anything. Not sadness, not joy. Just a flatness. Like someone had dialed the color out of everything. I was going through the motions, doing what needed to be done, but it all felt muted, disconnected, far away.
That’s how depression can feel. Not always dramatic. Sometimes it’s subtle. Quiet. A slow unraveling that makes it hard to remember what used to bring you joy. A fog that makes everything—even the smallest decisions—feel heavy.
If you’re in that space now, I want you to know: you’re not alone. You’re not broken. And there is a path forward, even if you can’t see it clearly yet.
Here’s what helped me begin to move from fog to focus. Not all at once. Not perfectly. But slowly, gently, and in my own time.
I Stopped Waiting to Feel Motivated
One of the hardest parts about depression is that we keep waiting to feel better before we start doing the things that might help. But depression often numbs out that spark. So I had to learn to move without waiting for motivation.
Instead of big goals, I started with small, manageable things. Drinking a glass of water. Opening a window. Getting out of bed and sitting on the edge for a minute. These weren’t cures, but they were anchors. Small signs to my body and brain that I was still here.
And on days when that felt like too much, I practiced not making it mean anything. I wasn’t failing. I was surviving. And that mattered.
I Let Go of the Pressure to Be Positive
There’s a cultural pressure to “stay positive” or to find a silver lining. But in depression, that can feel hollow, even harmful. I didn’t need cheerleading. I needed permission to feel exactly what I was feeling without shame.
So I stopped trying to force positivity. I let myself name the hard stuff. I let myself cry. I let myself feel numb. And strangely, that’s when I started to feel again. Not better, necessarily. But real.
If you’re there too, I want to offer you this: it’s okay to not feel okay. There’s space for all of it. You don’t have to tidy up your feelings to be worthy of care.
I Learned How to Work With My Nervous System
Depression isn’t just in the mind. It lives in the body too. I started learning about the nervous system and how chronic stress, trauma, and exhaustion can pull us into states of shutdown. Not because we’re weak, but because our bodies are trying to protect us.
That changed everything. I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t broken. I was in a biological state of overwhelm.
That’s where body-based tools helped. Breathing practices, gentle movement, orienting to the room. These weren’t instant fixes, but they helped me begin to feel safe enough to be present. Safe enough to want to be here again.
If this is something you want support with, the Nervous System Reset Toolkit might feel like a soft place to start. It offers simple, trauma-informed practices to help you regulate your system and reconnect to yourself—gently, at your own pace.
I Got Honest About What I Needed
Part of my healing came from learning to ask for what I needed—even when that felt uncomfortable. Sometimes that meant asking a friend to sit with me in silence. Other times, it meant giving myself permission to rest without guilt.
I used to think I had to "deserve" help. But I’ve learned that being human is reason enough. We all need support. We all need space. And you’re allowed to take up that space, even when you’re struggling.
I Took Healing in Pieces
Healing didn’t come in one big moment. It came in pieces. One breath, one tiny shift, one small act of care at a time. There were setbacks. There were days I couldn’t do much. But over time, the fog began to lift.
I didn’t wait to be a different person to start healing. I started exactly as I was—messy, tired, unsure. And somehow, that was enough.
If you're feeling overwhelmed or unsure where to start, my course Out of the Fog: A Guided Path Through Depression might meet you where you are. It’s not about fixing you. It’s about walking with you. Helping you find your way back to yourself with softness, support, and steady tools.
What I Know Now
Depression is not a personal failure. It is not who you are. It is something you’re moving through.
And you don’t have to move through it alone.
Even if it feels slow. Even if it doesn’t look how you thought. Even if you're still in the fog.
You are doing the work. You are healing.
And there is life on the other side of this. I know because I’ve been there. And I’m still walking it, too.
Take good care,
Julia