You won’t remember what today felt like.
That’s not a flaw in you. Memory quietly updates itself to match the present — which is why “do I feel better?” is a question almost nobody can answer honestly. Six weeks in, you can’t recall what your knee felt like in April, and neither can I.
01
You write it down
One sentence about the specific thing this is supposed to fix —
in your own words, however you’d say it to a friend.
02
I put it away
Not gone — waiting. I bring it back when enough time has passed
that comparing actually means something.
03
I hold the date
Worked out from the published timeline for whatever you’re taking,
not a guess. Nothing for you to track.
— What a good one sounds like —
“Three wake-ups a night, usually 1am and 3am.”
“I can’t reach the top shelf without stopping halfway.”
“I stopped gardening. Two summers now.”
A number, something you can’t do, or something you gave up. Never “rate it 1 to 10” — your scale moves with you.