I used to wake up at 4am to journal, meditate, or read something life-changing.
I used to inhale self-help books like they were oxygen and I was drowning.
I’d scribble mantras in my notebook like my life depended on it.
Back then, I felt like I was becoming someone.
Now? I feel like I’m just… getting through the day.
My old self would’ve rolled her eyes at this version of me — the one who snoozes her alarm more than she’d like to admit. The one who keeps whispering “What’s the point?” and can’t even finish a blog post without second-guessing every line.
I didn’t expect to feel like this — not after everything I’d worked through.
Some days, I wonder if I just imagined that whole phase.
Like maybe 2020 Mary was high on self-help and spiritual dopamine.
But I remember her. I remember the version of me that felt alive.
How certain I was that something was shifting.
That I was going to build something meaningful — something that felt like mine.
Now I’m just… tired.
Not depressed exactly (at least not anymore) — just… flat.
I’ve felt worse. This is just a weird limbo I’m learning to sit with.
Like someone pressed mute on my soul and I forgot where the remote is.
I still believe everything I believed back then.
I just don’t feel it right now.
And no one really talks about this part —
the quiet fog that settles in after the fire.
Where the spark fades but the dream is still somewhere in there, blinking in the background.
The “I know what I want but I don’t know how to reach it” middle.
The “I don’t want to give up but I’m too tired to try harder” middle.
The part that doesn’t look like failure, but doesn’t look like progress either.
I don’t have a motivational ending for this post.
No steps. No revelations. No phoenix-rising moment.
Just this:
I got out of bed today. I wrote this even though I didn’t want to.
That has to count for something.
If you’ve been in this space too — where the spark goes quiet and you’re not sure what you’re doing anymore — you’re not alone.
If you ever feel like sharing your own muddy middle, you can write me anytime:
mary@marybejaranomoore.com
I read every message.
Mary Bejarano Moore 