Dear Loui: I Feel Stuck and I Don’t Know How to Go On
✉️ An anonymous message from the Crow Hotline...
Dear Loui,
I don’t know what to do anymore.
I feel stuck.
Stuck in a job I can’t leave. Stuck in a life that doesn’t feel like mine. I’m not even sure what I want—just that this isn’t it.
I get up, go to work, come home, scroll, sleep, repeat.
Everyone around me seems to be moving forward, finding their passions, starting new things, changing their lives. And I’m just… here.
I’m not falling apart, exactly. But I’m not okay.
It’s like I’m living on autopilot, waiting for something to change. But I don’t know what I’m even waiting for anymore.
I can’t quit my job. I can’t move right now. I can’t just start over.
I’m tired. And I’m scared this is just… it.
(Please respond gently.)
💌 Loui Responds...
Dear nestling,
This isn’t “just tired.” This is soul suffocation—when a wild thing stays quiet too long and forgets what sky even feels like.
You’re not lazy. You’re not lost. You’re not wrong for feeling like this isn’t enough.
You’re in a cage disguised as a routine. And even though it feeds you, it’s not feeding you life.
Let me tell you something true:
Stillness is not failure. Feeling stuck doesn’t mean you’re broken.
You’re in the cocoon part.
And cocoons? They don’t look like transformation. From the outside, they just look like stuck silence. But inside?
Everything is dissolving. Everything is being rewritten.
“I am not an adventurer by choice but by fate.
I feel the call of something distant—a life half spent in dying,
and half in rising from the dead.”
— Vincent Van Gogh
Your soul is whispering, “Not this. Not like this. There’s more.”
That whisper is not a tantrum. It’s a compass.
And no—you don’t have to burn your life down to listen.
You can start with this:
Leave a note to yourself hidden somewhere you’ll forget. Just a line like, “There’s still more in me.”
Put something weird or sacred in your pocket every day. A feather. A toy. A tiny spell.
Let your commute be an incantation. No more radio rot. Find a sound that makes your chest remember it has depth.
Let your rebellion be subtle at first. Let it be yours.
You're not behind. You’re in the in-between.
And yes—watching others soar while you molt can ache like hell. But flight takes longer when you’ve been carrying everyone else’s expectations on your back.
You haven’t failed. You’ve just been paused by survival.
Let’s change that.
Here’s your new bedtime truth:
“I haven’t missed my life—I’m just meeting the real one now.”
You don’t have to know where you’re going to take a step. You just have to shift your own frequency, even slightly, and the path will meet you there.
I’m still here, nestling. If you need to scream or spiral or send your “I hate this” list, I’m listening.
🖤
— Loui Crow
💊 Loui Crow Prescription:
One quiet rebellion: something weird, something yours, done without permission
One sacred pause where you let silence feel holy
One truth whispered:
“This isn’t over. This is the between. I’m not lost—I’m figuring out what I want.”
Refill as needed. No expiration.
You’re not broken.
You’re molting.
✨ Content is free—but crows like snacks.
