“Reset Monday"

“Reset Monday: A Story of Redemption After the Weekend”

Monday mornings have a way of humbling you. Especially after a weekend that felt like a three-day audition for a rock band that never made it past the pub stage.

I woke up with my mouth tasting like a cocktail of regret and stale gin. My head was pounding, my stomach was staging a protest, and my skin looked like it had been dipped in fryer oil. I blinked at the ceiling, trying to piece together the weekend: Friday drinks that turned into Saturday shots, which somehow bled into Sunday brunch with bottomless mimosas. It was fun—until it wasn’t.

I knew I had to detox. Not the kind where you sip celery juice and chant affirmations, but a real, honest reset. My body was begging for mercy, and for once, I was ready to listen.

Phase One: Water, the Unsung Hero

I started with water. Lots of it. I filled a jug, added lemon slices (because that’s what wellness blogs say), and made it my mission to finish it before noon. Every sip felt like a tiny apology to my liver.

By mid-morning, I’d already made five trips to the loo, and my headache had downgraded from “drill in the skull” to “mild throb.” It was progress. I added a pinch of sea salt and a splash of apple cider vinegar to my next glass—something I’d read about in a late-night rabbit hole of hangover cures. It tasted weird, but my body didn’t protest.

Phase Two: Food That Doesn’t Hurt

The fridge was a graveyard of poor decisions: leftover pizza, half a kebab, and a bottle of rosé I couldn’t even look at. I shut the door and walked to the shop, sunglasses on, hood up, avoiding eye contact like I owed everyone money.

I grabbed spinach, avocados, bananas, ginger, and a few other things I’d usually ignore. Back home, I made a smoothie—green, thick, and suspiciously healthy. It tasted like the garden, but my stomach settled. I could feel the fog lifting.

Lunch was a quinoa bowl with roasted veg and chickpeas. I didn’t even know I liked quinoa, but that day, it felt like salvation. I ate slowly, mindfully, like someone who’d just discovered food wasn’t supposed to hurt.

Phase Three: Move, But Don’t Overdo It

I considered a run. My knees laughed. So I settled for yoga—something gentle, something forgiving. I found a video called “Yoga for Hangovers” and followed along, groaning through the poses. My body creaked, but it moved. I started sweating, and it felt like my sins were leaving through my pores.

Afterward, I showered with eucalyptus soap and stood under the hot water until I felt human again. I scrubbed like I was trying to erase the weekend from my skin. It helped.

Phase Four: Mind Over Mayhem

Detoxing isn’t just physical. My mind was cluttered with half-memories and self-loathing. So I journaled. I wrote down everything I remembered—who I saw, what I said, what I wish I hadn’t. I didn’t judge myself. I just wrote.

Then I meditated. Ten minutes of silence, focusing on my breath. It was hard. My brain kept replaying scenes from the weekend, but I kept coming back to the present. Slowly, the noise faded.

Phase Five: Sleep Like You Mean It

I turned off my phone, made a cup of chamomile tea, and got into bed early. I’d taken magnesium and sprayed lavender on my pillow. I was ready to sleep like someone who’d just survived a war.

And I did. Nine hours of uninterrupted, healing sleep. I woke up Tuesday feeling lighter. My skin looked clearer, my eyes less haunted. My body had forgiven me, at least partially.

Lessons from the Detox

-Hydration is non-negotiable. Water, herbal teas, and electrolytes are your lifeline.

- Food is medicine. Leafy greens, fruits, and whole grains can work miracles.

- Movement helps. Even gentle exercise can shift your energy and mood.

- Sleep heals. It’s where the real recovery happens.

- Self-compassion matters. You can’t shame yourself into wellness.

The Next Weekend

Friday rolled around again. My mates texted: “Drinks?”

I paused. I thought about the smoothie, the yoga, the journal. I thought about how good it felt to wake up clear-headed and calm.

I replied: “I’ll come, but I’m taking it easy.”

They teased me, but I didn’t mind. I’d learned something. Detoxing isn’t punishment—it’s a way of saying, “I care about myself.” And maybe that’s the real story here: learning to treat your body like a friend, not a bin for bad decisions.

---

For A Full Range of Natural Detox Products, Please click here.