Introduction
Recently, a minor issue came up at work.
The necessary follow-up has already been taken care of, and as far as I can tell, I've done everything I need to.
But still, I can't seem to shake this uneasy feeling.
Now that the situation has been resolved, you'd think I'd be able to return to my normal routine.
But yesterday, and again today, I’ve been feeling gloomy and unmotivated.
Debugging My Activity Logs
When we encounter a bug in our code, we insert console.log() statements, check variable values, and trace the problem step by step.
But when it comes to our own feelings—like when we’re stuck in a fog or can’t seem to move forward—do we debug ourselves the same way?
Last night, I noticed a subtle shift in my mood. That prompted me to look back and trace my recent actions.
On a daily basis, I use Logseq to plan and log my schedule, and TaskChute (Taskuma) to manage detailed actions throughout the day.
I also consolidate these logs in Notion and Evernote, where I review them weekly or monthly. By linking these tools together, I’ve developed a routine of visualizing and maintaining my life as structured data.
Some of the things I checked:
- Reviewing which categories in TaskChute took up the most and least time
- Looking at which planned tasks in Logseq were completed and which weren’t, and how many unscheduled interruptions occurred
- Looking back at my recent logs, I noticed my sleep schedule had flipped, and I’d been spending a lot of time on urgent tasks.
I was also going out less, talking to fewer people, and spending long hours in my workspace.
Just based on those patterns alone, it’s no wonder I’d been feeling down.
And in a sense, that emotional slump was like an invisible bug silently introducing errors into my daily life.
Debugging My Emotional Logs
By reviewing my activity logs, I can get a decent picture of my habits and daily patterns.
However, these logs alone don’t give an accurate reflection of my emotional state.
Shifts in mood or signs of fatigue often hide in the margins of our routines—or in the “blanks” that never get logged at all.
So I decided to go a step further.
I reviewed not just my structured logs, but also my loosely written journal entries in Notion, scribbled thoughts in Obsidian, and even logs I'd had with ChatGPT.
What I found were small, subtle signs I would normally overlook.
- What kinds of negative topics had been showing up repeatedly?
- How many days in a row had I written about something negative?
- Were emotion-laden keywords—like anxiety, fatigue, or frustration—popping up in even my briefest notes?
- How did I respond when sudden new burdens were added to my schedule?
It wasn’t until I paid attention to this “surrounding data,” rather than my main activity logs, that I began to uncover these emotional bugs I had been missing.
In my case, I happened to go through this reflection process alone.
But in a similar situation, if a trusted friend or colleague had been nearby, simply asking them, “What did I seem like back then?”
—that too might have served as another helpful debugging method.
Conclusion
Of course, the reason for my emotional slump this time was clear: it was triggered by a work-related issue.
Some might say that with such an obvious cause, there’s no need to reflect further.
But by intentionally looking back and tracing through my records in detail, the vague shape of my anxiety became much clearer.
Even when we think we understand the cause, taking time to examine how it has affected our emotions and behavior can be incredibly revealing.
People often say, “I already know what’s causing this,” and try to move on.
But in programming, we know that code can look fine on the surface while still hiding vulnerabilities underneath.
Left unchecked, those hidden flaws often lead to bigger issues down the line.
The same goes for emotional patterns.
When we leave mental bugs unexamined and undefined, they have a way of coming back—just when we least expect it.
That’s why debugging ourselves means more than just reviewing our actions. It also means logging our emotions, and observing ourselves—even when we’re not functioning properly—without judgment.
When we’re overwhelmed by stress or busyness, it becomes even more important to quietly check in on how our internal system is running.
Not to fix an error on the spot—
But simply to understand where we stand right now.
That, in itself, can be a vital process.
Right now, I still feel a lingering haze inside. But now that I’ve identified the cause, I feel just a little bit lighter.
I’m not particularly optimistic by nature, but even so, now that I have clarity, I have a quiet belief that this unease will gradually lift in the coming days.
When was the last time you debugged yourself?
Thank you for reading!
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