The Lost Hours Are Still Healing

The Lost Hours Are Still Healing

🌼 Date: Friday, January 30, 2026

⚡ Energy: Foggy. Drained. Intermittently functional.

❤️‍🩹 Status: Present… just not firing on all cylinders.

😞 Outlook: Learning to trust the pause.

Today I learned that time can disappear without asking permission.

I woke up with the intention of getting today’s post done early. I even told myself that was the plan. But instead, I found myself sitting in my chair—staring, thinking, not thinking, drifting—and suddenly three or four hours were just… gone.

Not slept through.
Not productive.
Just gone.

And here’s the thing—this is not who I’ve ever been.

At work, I was known as the multitasker. The one who could juggle five things at once while others were still trying to get one task finished. I could answer questions, solve problems, keep projects moving, and somehow still be three steps ahead. Chaos never scared me—it fueled me.

Even at home, I don’t just sit.

When I’m “relaxing,” my hands are busy—knitting, crocheting, coloring, writing, doing puzzles or word searches on my phone. Some people would say that doesn’t sound relaxing at all, but for me, it’s how I shut my brain off. Because if my hands are still, my brain starts making lists.

I should get the dishwasher ready to run before bed.
I should throw in another load of laundry.
The counters need to be wiped down with antibacterial spray.
I should lay out my clothes for tomorrow.

The mental to-do list never shuts up.

Multitasking is how I quiet it.

Except right now… I can’t even single task.

My brain feels like it’s wrapped in cotton. Thoughts come in slowly, line up awkwardly, then wander off before they finish their sentence. I keep setting out to do something simple, only to forget what that thing was halfway there.

And that’s terrifying.

This version of me—the one who can’t focus, can’t track time, can’t keep her hands or mind busy—doesn’t feel like me. Tina is a doer. A fixer. A finisher. She doesn’t sit in a chair watching hours evaporate.

Except… today she does.

Because today, my body and brain are still working overtime behind the scenes. Healing. Processing. Recovering from chemo. Recovering from grief. Recovering from the loss of the woman who could do all the things without thinking twice.

So maybe those “lost” hours weren’t wasted after all.

Maybe they were spent repairing things I can’t see yet.

Today wasn’t exciting. It wasn’t productive by old standards. But I showed up. I stayed upright. I listened to my body instead of fighting it.

And right now, that has to count.

💗 Tina –
One Badass Day at a Time