How to Avoid Stillness Because It Will Eat You Alive

First rule, stay on your feet.

People sit down

and the floor opens.

Every unfinished grief waits there,

every sealed room cracks open,

every memory you shoved into storage

starts yelling for air.

So keep moving.

Turn the music up.

Not soft music.

Not acoustic guitar background noise.

Something loud enough to drown out your own head.

If possible, Nirvana.

If not Nirvana, something that sounds like the inside of your skull.

Scrub something until your arms ache.

Get on your hands and knees and clean baseboards

like you’re trying to evict a demon.

Organize a drawer that was already fine.

Look up flights you absolutely cannot afford.

Text someone.

Change subjects mid message.

Keep it messy. Keep it moving.

Momentum matters.

Movement keeps you alive.

Someone will suggest breathing exercises.

Tell them sure

and then go walk three miles instead.

Stillness will try to convince you it’s peace.

It smiles while it closes the doors.

Then you’re stuck in a hallway

with fluorescent lights

and your own thoughts echoing back at you.

So you outrun it.

You fill boxes.

You canoe fifty miles with kids.

You jump out of airplanes.

You refuse to disappear.

And sometimes the quiet still catches you

and the room fills up anyway.

Remember this.

It hasn’t killed you yet.

Stand back up.