What I learnt from doomscrolling

I’ve been so focused on finishing my project, counting the days till I can finally leave this state. I’ve never liked it here. If I could pack my bags and vanish tonight, I would. Yet, in the middle of all this restlessness, gratitude keeps finding me. It slips quietly into my days — in a TikTok, a random video, a passing conversation. And because I’m the kind of person who reads meaning into everything, I couldn’t help but wonder what God was trying to tell me.

One evening, I watched a girl talk about gratitude. There was something about the softness in her tone, the sincerity in her words. It stayed with me. It made me realize how much I’ve been rushing through life, blind to how far I’ve come. Last year, I couldn’t even picture being this close to the end. Two years ago, I thought I’d never make it out. Yet here I am, one breath away from the finish line, about to defend, about to close this long, weary chapter. And instead of savoring it, I’ve been counting down the days like they meant nothing.

These are my last days in university. My last days worrying about deadlines, footnotes, and grades. My last days living alone in a city that once felt foreign, and somehow became a silent witness to my becoming. I came here not knowing a soul, and yet I survived five, six years of it. That should mean something. That does mean something. But I was too impatient to see it. Too consumed with leaving to realize I am standing in the middle of answered prayers.

Sometimes grace comes disguised as a quiet nudge, a random video, a single sentence, a moment that makes you pause long enough to whisper, I should be grateful. Even when life feels empty. Even when nothing makes sense. Maybe God lets us hit ground zero so we can remember what it means to start again. To rebuild. To feel the weight of grace in the smallest things.

It’s easy to question, to complain, to ask “why me?” But real strength is being able to stay in the ache and still whisper, thank you. Thank you for the waiting. Thank you for the lessons that came wrapped in discomfort. Thank you for what remains, even when so much has changed.

Gratitude shifts everything. It opens your eyes to what you once prayed for and now call ordinary. I think back to when I wasn’t even studying law, scrolling through Instagram, wishing I could be where I am now. I used to dream of this life. And now that I’m here, I caught myself forgetting that. That realization humbled me.

Yes, it’s been hard. But somewhere in all that hardness, I found softness. I learned how to be still. How to sit with silence and not fear it. How to pray differently. How to rebuild my peace. I learned to love my own company, to grow quietly, to bloom without applause.

Every moment I’ve hated, every phase that broke me, every version of myself I couldn’t stand, became the reason I’m grateful now. Those nights I wanted to disappear taught me to appreciate light. The versions of me that doubted, feared, and fell apart built the one who can finally stand firm. So next time life feels unbearable, I hope you remember this: one day, you’ll look back and say, that was all worth it.

I’ve said countless times that I hate this phase, and I still do. But now I understand it. It was never meant to punish me. It was preparing me. Slowing me down just enough to see beauty again.

So, be grateful. Even when nothing works.

Be grateful for breath. For strength. For another chance. Gratitude doesn’t erase the weight, it just teaches you how to carry it with grace.