By Thursday last week, I had reached maximum entropy. My universe was on fire and crumbling all around me — everything everywhere all at once. Blood test shenanigans, my son’s doctor appointment, my eating disorder relapse, grief, and a million other new stressors had piled up. The only thing that could make sense of this chaos was physics.

Entropy is the measure of disorder in the universe — the constant, inescapable drift toward chaos. In physics, it’s a law, an inevitable truth. But in my life, it’s felt personal, like the universe itself is conspiring to remind me that things will never stay ordered for long no matter how hard I try.

There is no self help book for what to do when your universe has reached equilibrium, but at least physicists have theories about it. Self care and self help books right now, would be like showing up to the aftermath of nuclear devastation with a dustpan and brush and expecting it would make a difference.

Making Sense of My Universe With Physics

When weeks like this happen — when everything is chaos, and nothing explains why things are going so wrong — I take everything down to the studs. I strip it all back to the fundamental laws of the universe because nothing else can make sense of this mess. Physics, for all its vastness and complexity, is still simpler and more reliable than the chaos I’m living through.

Entropy isn’t personal; It’s not punishing me, it just is. But at least it has rules. And when my brain feels like it’s falling apart, those rules — those constants — give me something to hold onto. That’s why, when everything’s on fire, I find myself turning to physics. It’s not because I think it will fix anything. It’s because it reminds me that even in the chaos, there’s still something that makes sense.

Physics doesn’t sugarcoat the inevitable, and it doesn’t offer tired old platitudes. But it does teach you one essential truth: sometimes, accepting and leaning into the chaos is the only option.

Add Chaos to Chaos and Pray for Order

Thursday morning my phone buzzes with a text from my son in his room, “Do you think you could do my hair today?” My phone rings at the exact same time, it is a call about the blood test. I still can’t have one. I don’t even care about the reasons anymore, I am done and I give up. I have spent nearly a month trying to get this blood test. I don’t have any fight left to fight my relapse, yet I am expected to fight like hell for the right to get a simple blood test.

I sat spiralling, texting my son about my absolute rage at the state of things and how every day this week had brought something new. But my brain flooded me with physics, and how this was a sign of maximum entropy. Everything, everywhere all at once, is exactly what happens when I bleach my sons hair, so instead of a dust pan and brush, I picked up a hair bleaching brush and told my son, “You know what, I will do your hair”.

When your universe is in a state of entropy, why not lean into it? The world is a mess; my brain’s a bigger mess — might as well turn my living room into an absolute mess of bleach and make my son’s hair fabulous.

By doing his hair, I could also at least make one of us happy, my sons hair had roots for days, and his shaved sides were so long. He of course has been going through the same entropy I have, maybe I can help him feel a little less chaos and a little more order.

It’s always nerve wracking bleaching my sons brown hair platinum, I always worry it will turn out wrong or bright orange or even worse, fall out. But I just thought, of all the things that have gone wrong this week, something has to go right – I REALLY hope it’s this for him. I closed my eyes and called out to the Patron Saint of Hairdressing himself, Brad Mondo, to shine light down upon my bleaching brush to guide the bleach through many levels of blond.

It turned out great, which is always baffling to me and for a split second makes me feel like a hairdressing wizard given my sons very red and orange undertones. I’m not much of a hairdressing wizard though, I’m just obsessed with Brad Mondo’s YouTube channel. If you watch enough of Brad’s delightful personality on screen, it will fill you with all the confidence you need to bleach hair platinum – sometimes too much confidence, a wolf cut is WAY harder than he makes out.

After my sons hair was bleached and the roots now a lovely shade of blond, I shaved the sides of his head and big chunks of hair fell to the floor. Seeing little tufts of my sons hair on the floor always reminds me of when I took a lock of his hair when he was born. I then trimmed the beautiful longer curls on top. When I was done, he looked so handsome, and he looked like my son again.

My son loves his hair so much and was full of relief. He kept thanking me, knowing and appreciating me for how I still show up despite being in a state of entropy and decay. My son really sees me, and now his hair is out of his eyes, I really see him too.

This Little Piggy Called Hamilton

My son was adding purple shampoo to his hair when there was a knock at the door, I had ordered a new Jellycat a few days ago from Zo and Co. My Jellycat Barnabus Pig arrived. He’s so adorable, and so soft. I had been wanting him for so long but he was out of stock everywhere.

I have so many Jellycats that represent special people in my life, and I didn’t have one to represent my son. I thought Fergus Frog Little would have been the one, but his vibes were all wrong. He’s a grumpy little fellow, and I love him for it, but that is not my son.

Barnabus pig has the perfect vibes though. He’s so adorable, happy, comforting, and friendly — just like my son. My son’s favourite plushie is a pig called Reuben, and whenever I think of him being little, I get flooded with memories of him and his love of pigs. An adorable little boy carrying a little pig with him wherever he went, giggling, and sharing food with him.

I immediately thought of the perfect name for him, Hamilton. My son reminds me of Alexander Hamilton (from the musical – I’m Welsh I don’t know much about the real Hamilton) and we both love Lin-Manuel Miranda’s talent so much. We have bonded so much over our shared love of his music.

I hugged Hamilton, stroked his really soft fur and thought about how apt he should arrive today of all days. Hamilton arrived in the middle of the mess, like a tiny reminder that even amidst maximum entropy, there are pockets of softness and connection. Throughout this week of equilibrium, my son has been my anchor, and the act of doing his hair today while everything else around us was on fire, made me so thankful that at least we have each other. Now, this little piggy, and my sons as he ordered one too, can be a reminder of that, forever.

Holding on to the Hope of Loop Quantum Gravity.

Maximum entropy in Loop Quantum Gravity is not necessarily the end though. Whilst equilibrium is inescapable while you’re in it, there’s still some hope. Loop Quantum Gravity states that when maximum entropy is achieved, the universe could bounce back. It could even create a different state or a different universe.

Loop Quantum Gravity gives me slight hope that even when everything reaches its breaking point, something new can emerge from the ashes. Maybe my own universe can bounce back too — different, but still meaningful.

I’m basing my entire existence on the precarious hope physicists find a Lorentz violation and prove Loop Quantum Gravity. At the same time, it could just as easily be disproved tomorrow. This week has mirrored that precarious hope. I’ve gone to bed each night clinging to the fragile idea that tomorrow will bring peace, only to wake up and find the theory crumbling again.

Everything’s on fire, but my son’s hair looks beautiful, and I’m hugging my pig in the corner, holding onto precarious hope that — just maybe — a bounce is coming.

The song to end this post, came to me instantly. All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham, I feel like it perfectly describes entropy:-

Are you feeling nervous?
Are you having fun?
It’s almost over
It’s just begun
Don’t overthink this
Look in my eye
Don’t be scared, don’t be shy
Come on in, the water’s fine