21 Ways To Defeat A Bad Day

21 Ways To Defeat A Bad Day

Overthrow your troubles before they overthrow you.

My eyelids flutter on my cheeks. My cement head sinks into a pillow. Hot tears somersault, forming rivers of mascara down my face. Yep. Bad day.

No matter what struggles await us on a dreadful day, nothing is harder than coming up with a way to cheer ourselves. But perhaps these can offer a beam of hope . . .

1. Actually get out of bed

Hear me out. Once you complete this step, you have surpassed half the hurdles of a terrible day. If we let our pillow swallow our head into oblivion, our unmotivated self will peak, and we will not surface again for another week.

2. Listen to a pump-up song

Music works cathartic wonders. If you can, find a solitary place to belt out the lyrics. Medical research shows singing releases endorphin's. http://science.howstuffworks.com/life/inside-the-m...

3. Go for a run

4. Surround yourself with people who will encourage you

5. Write a kind note for someone

6. Eat your favorite food

7. Read something that will uplift you

Personally, I love Emily Dickinson's poems and the Psalms by King David (Psalm 42).

8. Screenshot every motivational meme out there

I have about 200 of those saved to my phone. And counting . . .

9. Binge watch a funny series

10. Call someone you trust to vent

11. Treat yo self to something you love

12. Journal

Make the paper glisten in purple ink. Write like you need the words to breathe, and you'll find you can finally inhale when the paper bleeds.

13. If the weather permits, go outside

14. Turn off your phone

Because you most likely have scrolled through this article on your phone, the advice sounds counter intuitive. But trust me. Picture-perfect photographs on Instagram do nothing for a terrible day.

15. If you have pets nearby, cuddle with them

16. Write 20 things you like about yourself

17. Clean something

18. Write a gratitude list

I know I didn't type this during Thanksgiving. However, during horrific days, I tend to concentrate on the negative.

19. Wear something fancy

Strange advice, I know. Yet, in theater, our characters came alive most whenever we put on our costume. If you want to feel confident, wear confident!

20. Play some sort of game

From "Grand Theft Auto" to "Monopoly," a game will lift your mind from the troubles it currently saturates in.

21. An artistic catharsis

Let your brush strokes stain a canvas and your crayons smudge a coloring book.

Cover Image Credit: Pixabay

Popular Right Now

I'm The Girl Without A 'Friend Group'

And here's why I'm OK with it


Little things remind me all the time.

For example, I'll be sitting in the lounge with the people on my floor, just talking about how everyone's days went. Someone will turn to someone else and ask something along the lines of, "When are we going to so-and-so's place tonight?" Sometimes it'll even be, "Are you ready to go to so-and-so's place now? Okay, we'll see you later, Taylor!"

It's little things like that, little things that remind me I don't have a "friend group." And it's been like that forever. I don't have the same people to keep me company 24 hours of the day, the same people to do absolutely everything with, and the same people to cling to like glue. I don't have a whole cast of characters to entertain me and care for me and support me. Sometimes, especially when it feels obvious to me, not having a "friend group" makes me feel like a waste of space. If I don't have more friends than I can count, what's the point in trying to make friends at all?

I can tell you that there is a point. As a matter of fact, just because I don't have a close-knit clique doesn't mean I don't have any friends. The friends I have come from all different walks of life, some are from my town back home and some are from across the country. I've known some of my friends for years, and others I've only known for a few months. It doesn't really matter where they come from, though. What matters is that the friends I have all entertain me, care for me, and support me. Just because I'm not in that "friend group" with all of them together doesn't mean that we can't be friends to each other.

Still, I hate avoiding sticking myself in a box, and I'm not afraid to seek out friendships. I've noticed that a lot of the people I see who consider themselves to be in a "friend group" don't really venture outside the pack very often. I've never had a pack to venture outside of, so I don't mind reaching out to new people whenever.

I'm not going to lie, when I hear people talking about all the fun they're going to have with their "friend group" over the weekend, part of me wishes I could be included in something like that. I do sometimes want to have the personality type that allows me to mesh perfectly into a clique. I couldn't tell you what it is about me, but there is some part of me that just happens to function better one-on-one with people.

I hated it all my life up until very recently, and that's because I've finally learned that not having a "friend group" is never going to be the same as not having friends.

SEE ALSO: To The Girls Who Float Between Friend Groups

Cover Image Credit: wordpress.com

Related Content

Connect with a generation
of new voices.

We are students, thinkers, influencers, and communities sharing our ideas with the world. Join our platform to create and discover content that actually matters to you.

Learn more Start Creating

My First Time Donating Blood Was Traumatizing, But It Solidified My Desire To Become A Regular Blood Donor

You never know when you might become the victim.


"Stand clear of the closing doors, please."

It's rush hour in the New York City subway station, which means adults and students alike are trying desperately to squeeze into my jam-packed subway car. A sweaty woman presses against my side as I grip the pole above me, standing my ground to avoid squishing my friend. The woman jostles me again, and I'm forced to switch my grip on the pole to my other arm. My sleeve falls away with this new position, revealing the blue bandage on my arm from donating blood earlier in the day. The train finally pulls away from Junction Boulevard, and I exchange an equally exasperated and relieved look with my friend.

I'm no stranger to the discomfort of standing on a train for hours at a time, so the wave of dizziness that hits me after just 10 minutes of standing takes me by surprise. I feel myself swaying and grope blindly for another pole, to no avail. Dark spots fill my vision and blood rushes in my ears — "Jane, I feel really lightheaded" — before I feel myself falling and lose consciousness completely.

When I think about my first time donating blood, passing out on a subway car is all I remember. I first donated blood during my senior year of high school, as my school was having a blood drive that was convenient during my double period physics class. Admittedly, my primary motivation for participating in the drive was to get out of physics, the fact that my blood could save lives was just a bonus. I've never been particularly fond of needles, but I figured I could brave the experience just this once.

The actual process of donating blood was painless, both literally and figuratively. After filling out a screening to determine my eligibility to donate, I sat with a healthcare provider for a physical exam. I remember, with some embarrassment, having to sit outside the classroom for half an hour because my heart rate exceeded the normal range. The provider stifled a laugh as she assured me that plenty of donors were nervous before donating. I just had to calm myself before completing the exam. Once I was in the chair and ready to donate, a nurse had me squeeze a roll of toilet paper to facilitate the process. I was done within 10 minutes. I grabbed a cookie on my way out of the room, my good deed done for the day.

Fast forward to that moment on the train. After such an easy experience, how had I, in a matter of hours, become the victim? When I came to, I was slumped in a subway seat, my friend staring down at me with wide eyes. Nearby strap-hangers gazed curiously at me as I reached for my water bottle and took several rejuvenating gulps.

"What happened?" I croaked out.

My friend filled me in on my brief fainting episode, informing me that I'd only been out for a minute and that other subway riders had helped to stabilize me, one had even given up their seat so that I could regain my strength. I remember feeling both shock and gratitude as I thanked the people nearby and inwardly cursed myself for not snacking enough and ignoring my fatigue. I kept my head down for the rest of the trip, feeling too ashamed to make conversation with my friend.

At the moment, I'm sure I swore never to donate blood again. The embarrassment I felt at passing out in front of all those strangers — probably looking like a rookie subway rider — trumped any sense of responsibility I felt to save lives. It was only when I got home and really thought about the experience that I realized why I should go in the opposite direction — not refuse to donate blood, but rather become a regular blood donor.

It had taken not even two hours for me to turn from a donor — someone who could help save lives — into a victim. The humiliation of my fainting episode and the fear I felt as I regained consciousness couldn't even compare to the feelings of someone who was gravely injured and in need of blood. Being in that position and losing control of my body put things into perspective, after all, what was a needle in the face of helping those in need?

Needless to say, I signed up as a regular blood donor that night.

Related Content

Facebook Comments