The #1 Shift You Must Make To Stop Feeling Stuck

The Invisible Wall

Do you ever feel like you've hit this invisible wall that nobody else can see? People tell you to just stay positive, to push through, but it feels like they're speaking a different language. Honestly, some days the biggest win is just getting from the bed to the couch, and that's okay. We're not talking about being lazy here. We're talking about living with a body or a mind that has its own rules now. And the hardest part isn't the physical pain or the fatigue, it's this feeling of being completely stuck. Your life used to have momentum, and now it feels like you're just waiting. Waiting for a better day, waiting for a new treatment, waiting to feel like your old self again. But what if I told you that the key to getting unstuck isn't about trying harder? It’s about making one specific shift in how you see yourself. Right?

 

The Psychology of Being Stuck

So let's talk about why that "stuck" feeling is so heavy. It's not just in your head. When you're dealing with a life-changing disability or chronic illness, your brain is dealing with a constant state of loss. You're grieving the person you were, the things you could do, the future you had planned. And that grief is real. It’s okay to feel that. Do you ever find yourself replaying old memories, just wishing you could have that version of your life back? That’s your brain trying to make sense of this huge change. The problem is, when we get stuck in that loop of comparison: comparing your "now" to your "before" or comparing yourself to others.It creates a psychological cage. You start to believe that your value is tied to what you used to be able to do. Your identity becomes wrapped up in what's missing. And that's the trap. That's where the real stuckness lives. It's not your wheelchair or your chronic pain that's the prison; it's the story you start to believe about yourself because of it.

 

The Trap of 'Trying Harder'

And this is where we usually get the worst advice. Well-meaning people, sometimes even doctors, will tell you to just "try harder." To fight through it. To be more resilient. But what does that even mean when your body is fighting against you? Trying harder at physiotherapy when you're in excruciating pain isn't resilience, it's torture. The "try harder" mentality is based on this idea that you're not doing enough, that you're somehow failing. But you're not. You're navigating a completely new landscape with a map that doesn't fit anymore. It's like trying to use a map of a flat, sunny city to navigate a mountain range in a blizzard. The tools and the strategies that worked in your old life don't work here. So "trying harder" with the wrong tools just leaves you more exhausted, more frustrated, and more convinced that you're the problem. You're not the problem. The strategy is.

 

The #1 Shift: From Outcome to Identity

So if trying harder with the old map doesn't work, what's the answer? It's this one shift. This is the core of everything. You have to stop focusing on the outcome and start rebuilding your identity. Let me explain what I mean. The outcome-focused mindset is all about the finish line. "I need to walk again." "I need to get back to my old job." "I need to be pain-free." These are huge, overwhelming goals that can feel miles away. And when you don't hit them, it feels like a total failure. It keeps you stuck in that waiting room, putting your life on hold until you cross that finish line. But what if there is no finish line? What if this is the landscape you're living in now? The identity-focused mindset asks a different question. Instead of "When will I be fixed?", it asks "Who am I now?" and "how can I live a meaningful life within these new parameters?" It's the difference between being stalled and moving at your own pace. It's not about giving up on goals. It's about changing the reason for your goals. Like my wedding. My goal isn't just "do physiotherapy." That's an outcome. My identity goal is "I am someone who is actively preparing to fully enjoy my wedding day." The physiotherapy is just the tool I'm using to live out that identity. Or winter. The outcome-focused view says "I can't go out until the ice is gone." The identity-focused view says "I am someone who values connection, so I will find a new strategy—asking a friend for help—to make it happen." This shift is tiny but massive. It moves you from being a patient waiting for a cure to being a person designing a life.

 

Rewriting Your Internal Narrative

So how do you actually start making this shift? It begins with the story you tell yourself, especially in those quiet moments. Do you ever catch yourself thinking, "I can't do that anymore," or "I'm not the person I used to be"? That's the old narrative running on a loop. Rewriting it doesn't mean slapping a fake positive thought on top. It means finding a more accurate, more compassionate truth. For me, it was changing the answer to "What do you do?" I used to feel this pang of embarrassment because I wasn't employed in the traditional sense. The old narrative was, "I'm disabled, so I don't work." The new narrative is, "I'm in a period of transition, and right now I'm passionate about creating content that helps people feel less alone." It's not a lie; it's just choosing to lead with what's alive in me now, not what's missing. It’s about catching that automatic thought and gently questioning it. Instead of "I can't go out in the winter," the new narrative is "Going out in the winter requires a different strategy, and it's okay to ask for help to make it happen." This isn't about positive thinking. It's about strategic thinking. It's giving yourself permission to have a new script.

 

The Power of Micro-Momentum

And that new script is built with tiny, almost invisible actions. I call this micro-momentum. When you're stalled, the idea of a big goal can be paralyzing. But a micro-purpose? That you can do. It's about finding one small thing that makes you feel like you, that has nothing to do with managing your health. It could be sending a voice note to a friend just to say hi, not to talk about how you're feeling. It could be spending five minutes doodling in a notebook. For me, it's my wedding. My physiotherapy exercises are grueling and progress is slow. If my only goal was "walk better," it would be easy to get discouraged on the days I feel no different. But my micro-purpose is "be able to move more freely at my wedding." So on a hard day, I'm not just doing exercises; I'm taking a small, tangible step toward dancing with my partner. That’s micro-momentum. It’s not about the distance you travel; it’s about confirming that you are still the one in the driver's seat, even if you're moving at a crawl. These tiny wins build up. They prove to your brain that you are not your diagnosis. You are a person who draws, who connects, who plans for joy.

 

Overcoming the Fear of the New Self

But I know there's a fear that comes with this. What if embracing this "new self" feels like you're giving up on the old one? What if it feels like you're admitting defeat? I struggled with this a lot. It felt like if I stopped fighting to get my old life back, I was letting that version of me die. But that's not what this is. This isn't a funeral for your past self. It's a graduation. You're integrating everything you learned from that person into who you are now. The you that existed before the disability wasn't better; they were just operating in a different landscape. The you that exists now has a depth of understanding about vulnerability, about patience, about what truly matters, that your old self couldn't possibly have had. The fear is natural. It's the fear of the unknown. But the "waiting room" is a known misery. It's a predictable kind of stuck. Stepping out of it is scary because it's new territory. But the alternative—staying stalled indefinitely—is far more frightening. You aren't losing yourself. You're meeting a more resilient, more nuanced version of yourself who has been through something profound.

Your Immediate Next Step

So where do you start from right here, right now? I want you to think of one thing. Just one. Don't make a huge list. What is one micro-purpose you can connect to today? It doesn't have to be physical. It could be mental. Maybe it's reading one page of a book you love. Maybe it's writing down one thing you're curious about. The goal isn't the action itself; the goal is to feel that tiny spark of agency. To remember that you are more than a collection of symptoms. You are a person with interests and curiosities and a desire to connect. (Looking for hobby suggestions?) Your homework is to try that one thing. And I want you to come back to this video and leave a comment about what you did. It can be as simple as "I listened to a song I loved." I read every single comment. We are a community here, not an audience. We're all figuring this out together, at our own pace. Your life hasn't stopped. It's just changed direction. And you are still the one steering.