Reading · Conversations By The Sea

Thank you to everyone who liked, commented on, and responded to my piece about losing Potter. I can't reply to everyone because it's too painful, but I did read every single one, and I really appreciate them all.

I've written a lot about suffering this year. Not just the feeling of suffering but the counterweight of resilience.

How weathering a storm may feel like it's leading to destruction, but even after the clouds part, even if a whole tree falls, eventually a new one will sprout from what remains.

Anyway, that's all fine and well when you are through the worst of the storm, but what about when the clouds keep gathering?

When you're in the thick of a period of suffering, be it due to depression, anxiety, or another life circumstance, it can feel tricky to see a way out.

Animated GIF of Bart from The Simpsons looking sad in the rain

Over the course of my life as a certified anxious person, I have picked up a lot of coping mechanisms to get me through. I wrote about my experiences with panic attacks a few years ago, and how I managed to go from daily instances to hardly ever having them through practical and medicinal methods.

I would have said last year that I was pretty much ‘done’ with my journey of self-discovery, especially after finding out I've been autistic this entire time.

But then 2026 came and the combination of a divorce, a quiet time at work, losing Potter, and preparing for my daughter to start school has brought a whole new level of mental gymnastics.

I'll admit, even as a mental health veteran, I was not adequately prepared for what sort of resilience I would need to get through this year.

I figured that, in what is partially a journalling exercise, it might help to share some of the things that have helped me through this time, just in case anyone reading this is fighting battles of their own.

That being said, I am nowhere near seeing the clouds part. I'd say I'm lying on the woodland floor, looking up at the canopy and enjoying the odd speckled sunlight breaking through the leaves. I've probably pushed that analogy as far as it can go now, but hopefully it makes sense.

I don’t want to repeat myself, so I’ll say this just once: I have no idea if the things I list here are just ‘me’ things or if they are specifically autistic ones, or even relevant to everyone.

Autistic people live in the binary; we don’t like grey areas. This has led me to be a very decisive person. Usually, that works out pretty well for me (I talked about this in detail in my piece about quitting from earlier this year). But that only works out when things are in my control.

This year, I have faced a few situations that are not in my control. In these moments, I have an overwhelming urge to take control and force an outcome. This is because I am so, so uncomfortable in the in-between. But life is full of grey areas. And you cannot force other people to do things just because you don’t like the transitional period.

So, I am working on two things here:

Trying to work out what is and isn’t in my control
Trying not to force a solution when it’s not

Possibly the most important life lesson I’m learning and therefore the one that inspired the title of this newsletter.

Life is a series of small things that add up to big things. Not every small thing will impact the grand scheme of things. Sometimes, especially for us anxious individuals, a small thing can feel like a really, really big thing. In fact, it can feel catastrophic.

Think bad feedback from a client or a canceled plan.

These things feel really bad at the time.

I recently had this revelation, and I can’t remember where it came from.

Every time these things happen to me, especially when they are out of my control, I now ask myself:

How will this impact the grand scheme of things?

I am pretty bad at seeing the bigger picture, and that leads me to hyperfocus on small things. Asking myself this one question is like a forced zoom out. Almost every single time, the answer is: “not much”

And this seems to help me unstick from the thought train and move on.

On the topic of small things, let’s talk about habits.

Doing something once or twice probably won’t form a habit.

But doing said thing lots of times may very well form a habit.

I started writing this piece with a pretty gnarly hangover. One of my big symptoms is always ‘hangxiety’. Yesterday’s me stole all the serotonin from today’s me, and now I feel like a squeezed-out sponge who is on edge that someone is coming to take away her final drops.

A common intrusive thought for hungover me is that I am a terrible person for drinking too much, and I should know better. Without unpacking my whole family history with alcohol, I know where this thought comes from. And logically, I know why it’s not true.

I also absolutely hate wasting time. If I lose a day to a hangover, I am absolutely furious at myself. Which then continues the chain of negative self talk.

But, in reality, how often am I experiencing a hangover? Once every couple of months?

What does one lost day every two months really mean for the grand scheme of things?

Absolutely fucking nothing.

If you, like me, don’t cope well with change, this one is for you.

Sometimes, changes happen without your knowledge. Others, you know they’re coming.

When you know a change is coming, what do you do about it?

It seems to me like so many people see changes coming (moving house, starting a new job, having a child) and do absolutely nothing to prepare themselves for it. Then they lose their minds when it happens.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done this many, many times.

But I know myself pretty well now, and I know what I will struggle with.

For example, my daughter is starting school next month. This will cause a domino effect of change on my life as we will have a new routine, I will lose one-on-one time with her, I will do a different drop-off and pick-up… every aspect of this shift, however small, will come together to impact me greatly.

You could say this WILL impact the grand scheme of things.

I’ve never had a child at school before, so I can’t prepare for everything. I don’t know what it’ll be like when my first school holidays come, or how I will navigate washing her uniform and making her packed lunches, or keeping up with the school WhatsApp.

But what I do know is that I will struggle with all of it.

So, with that knowledge, I must prepare by first giving myself some grace for the month of September. I will strive to keep other areas of my routine the same, as I know I find comfort in that. I will cut corners where necessary — freezer teas are fine (for me and her!)

Even just the act of knowing that this will be a difficult transitional period is better than if I went into it not expecting anything to change.

So I'll leave you with this. Next time you worry about something… ask yourself: will this impact the grand scheme of things?

If it won't, move on.

If it will, then start making a practical plan to give yourself some grace.

In the grand scheme of things

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