Distract Yourself, Even When You’re Sad

Today was one of those days.

Everything felt like too much — work, home, family, my parents, the state of the world. Like a pressure cooker. It all just… built up and boiled over. I felt it deep. Heavy.

So I did what I usually do when I’m overwhelmed: I laid in bed. I meditated for about 10 minutes, trying to find some stillness. And when it ended, all I wanted to do was sleep — that’s my usual escape when things get hard.

But something in me said, No, not this time.

Instead, I grabbed my laptop. I told myself: just do one thing. So I started working on my eBooks again. I’d already finished the content, but I needed to turn it into a mini version, create the landing page, and build what’s called a “success page.” (If you’ve ever done this stuff, you know—it can get a little techy and frustrating.)

Last night, I was stuck on that success page and feeling so defeated. But tonight, as I dove into the tiny details—editing, formatting, figuring out the page flow—I realized something:

I forgot how sad I was.

For nearly two hours, I was just… in the zone. Fully present. And mind you, I have real things going on. My dad’s in the hospital. I’m facing the very real possibility that he might not be here much longer. That kind of emotional weight doesn’t just disappear.

But working on something that mattered to me—something that gave me a sense of progress and purpose—it pulled me out of that spiral, even if just temporarily. When I finished, I had a beautiful landing page and a working success page. I was proud of myself. And more than that, I felt capable again.

I’m not saying distractions solve everything. They don’t. I still feel a rawness in my heart. But this was a healthy distraction. It didn’t numb me—it refocused me. It reminded me that I’m still here, still building, still growing—even in the middle of pain.

It’s like what Teddy Roosevelt used to do. He endured immense grief in his life. And one of the ways he coped? He stayed in motion. He focused his energy on purpose-driven action. That’s what helped him rise.

So if you’re deep in the fog—sad, heartbroken, overwhelmed—just remember this:

Sometimes the best thing you can do is force yourself into something good.

Create. Write. Organize. Walk. Bake. Build something, even if it’s tiny.

That’s how we get through.

Not by waiting for the sadness to pass—but by gently choosing purpose, even in the middle of it.