survival mistakes – TheDailyChristian

I’m not proud of the man I became after everything fell apart.
When people talk about SHTF scenarios, they do it with a strange mix of fear and fascination. Some even romanticize it—imagining themselves as rugged lone wolves, capable of thriving when society collapses. I used to be one of them. I thought surviving would be instinctive, automatic, part of some primal ability buried deep inside. But instincts mean nothing when reality is colder, harsher, and hungrier than your imagination ever prepared you for.

I lost everything because I thought I was smarter than the disaster that came for me. I believed I had “enough” without really knowing what enough meant. I confused optimism for readiness, and that failure cost me more than possessions—it cost me people, comfort, security, and a sense of worth I still struggle to regain.

So now I write these words not as an expert, not as a brave prepper, but as someone who learned every lesson in the most painful way possible. If you are just getting started with basic food storage preps for an SHTF moment, I hope my failures will keep you from repeating them.

Why Food Storage Matters More Than You Think

When the world is still intact, food feels like an afterthought. Grocery stores glow on every corner. Restaurants hum with life. Delivery apps bring meals to your doorstep in minutes. It all feels so permanent—until the day it isn’t.

When SHTF hit my area, the grocery stores were empty within hours. Not days. Hours.
I remember walking down an aisle stripped bare, my footsteps echoing off metal shelves like the sound of a coffin lid closing. I had canned beans at home, maybe a bag of rice that I’d been ignoring in the pantry, and some stale cereal that I had forgotten to throw out. It wasn’t enough. Not even close.

If you think you have time to prepare later, you don’t. If you think you can improvise, you can’t. When everyone is scrambling, desperation destroys creativity. People who never stole a thing in their lives will fight over a dented can of tomatoes. People you trusted will become strangers. And you—if you’re like I was—will learn the meaning of regret in its rawest form.

That’s why food storage isn’t optional. It’s the foundation of survival.

Start Small—Because Small Is Still Better Than Nothing

Before everything fell apart, I always imagined prepping as something huge—stockpiling bunkers full of supplies, shelves fortified with military rations, huge five-gallon buckets lining the basement. I never started because it always felt overwhelming.

What I should have done—and what you should do—was start small. Even a single week of food stored properly can make the difference between panic and calm.

Here’s what I wish someone had told me:

1. Begin With a 7-Day Supply

A solid first step is simply making sure you can feed yourself (and your family, if you have one) for seven days without outside help.
This baseline prep includes:

Rice (cheap, long-lasting, filling)
Beans (dried or canned)
Canned meat like tuna or chicken
Pasta
Tomato sauce or canned vegetables
Oatmeal
Peanut butter
A few comfort foods (your sanity will thank you later)

This isn’t glamorous. It doesn’t look like the prepper fantasy you see online. But this humble supply can hold you steady when the world begins to tilt.

2. Build Up to 30 Days

Once you have a week, build toward a month.
At 30 days of food, something changes inside you. You begin to feel a kind of quiet strength. A stability. Not the loud confidence of someone bragging about their gear, but the soft, steady reassurance that you won’t starve tomorrow.

Keep Your Food Simple and Shelf-Stable

One of my big mistakes was buying “prepper food” without understanding my needs. I bought freeze-dried meals that required more water than I had available. I bought bulk grains without storing them correctly. Mice had a better feast than I did.

Focus on what lasts and what you’ll actually eat. Survival isn’t a diet—it’s nourishment.

Food Items That Last

White rice
Pasta
Rolled oats
Peanut butter
Canned tuna, chicken, and sardines
Canned vegetables
Canned soups
Honey (never spoils)
Salt and spices
Instant potatoes
Powdered drink mixes (helps fight taste fatigue)

Store It Right

This is where my downfall truly began: poor storage.
No matter how much food you gather, it’s worthless if ruined by:

Moisture
Heat
Pests
Light
Poor containers

Store food in cool, dry areas. Use airtight containers for grains. Label everything with dates. Don’t let your efforts rot away in silence the way mine did.

Rotate—Or Watch Your Supplies Die in the Dark

I used to think storing food meant sealing it away and forgetting it until disaster struck. That’s how I lost half my supplies: expiration dates quietly creeping past, cans rusting behind clutter, bags of rice turning to inedible bricks.

The rule you need to tattoo onto your mind is:

“Store what you eat. Eat what you store.”

Rotation keeps your stock fresh. It keeps you used to the foods you rely on. And it stops your prepping investment from becoming a graveyard of wasted money and ruined nourishment.

Water: The Part Everyone Ignores Until It’s Too Late

I had food. Not enough—but some. But water?
I had barely any. When the taps ran dry, reality hit harder than hunger ever did.

For every person, you need one gallon of water per day—minimum. Drinking, cooking, cleaning, sanitation—it all drains your supply faster than you think.

Start with:

A few cases of bottled water
Larger jugs or water bricks
A reliable filtration method (LifeStraw, Sawyer Mini, etc.)

Food will keep you alive.
Water will keep you human.

Don’t Learn the Hard Way Like I Did

Prepping isn’t paranoia.
It isn’t fearmongering.
It isn’t overreacting.

It’s the quiet, painful understanding that no one is coming to save you when everything falls apart.

I learned too late.
I lost too much.
I live every day with the weight of those failures.

But you can learn from me.
You can start now, with something small, something humble, something that grows over time.

And when the next disaster comes—and it will—you won’t feel that crushing panic I felt standing in an empty store staring at empty shelves. Instead, you’ll feel a sense of calm strength, knowing you took your future seriously.

I hope you prepare.
I hope you start today.
And I hope you never have to feel the kind of regret that still keeps me awake at night.

If you think railroad tracks are your secret navigation hack when everything collapses, then congratulations—you’re already halfway to being a ghost wandering through the ruins of a world that never cared about you in the first place. I know the fantasy. Movies, old adventure stories, nostalgic childhood daydreams—they all painted railroad tracks as some kind of dependable path through chaos. A beautiful, overgrown trail leading to safety, civilization, or at the very least some forgotten town where you might scavenge a can of beans.

But let me drag you back down into reality, the same reality we preppers stare into every day while everyone else scrolls on their phones pretending the world isn’t circling the drain. Because post-SHTF, when society has finally finished its swan dive off a cliff, railroad tracks won’t be romantic, helpful, or safe.

They’ll be a map, alright—a map straight to your final destination.

And you won’t like what’s waiting at the end.

The Railroad Myth Is the First Thing That Will Get You Killed

In normal times, railroad tracks feel harmless. They’re predictable, linear, and easy to follow. So people assume that in a crisis, they’ll be even more useful—leading survivors to towns, bridges, depots, or some imagined sanctuary.

But what people forget is this:
If it’s easy for you to follow, it’s easy for everyone else to follow.

And in a world where desperation replaces morality, you don’t want to be funneled into the same predictable routes as everyone with an empty stomach and a loaded weapon. You think you’re “navigating,” but you’re actually putting yourself on the most obvious human migration corridor that will exist after the collapse.

People will cling to anything familiar, and railroad tracks are a beacon for the unprepared masses. You won’t be alone out there. You’ll be packed shoulder-to-shoulder with every hungry, desperate, panicked soul who believed the same stupid myth you did.

You won’t find safety.
You’ll find crowds, conflict, ambushes, and disease.
You’ll find people who want what you have.
And they’ll take it—because tracks don’t offer any place to hide.

Railroads Will Become Predators’ Highways

This is the part most people refuse to think about. In a post-SHTF world, predictable travel routes become hunting grounds.

Predators—human predators—are always looking for the easiest place to find prey. And what’s easier than a narrow, linear path where all travelers are forced to move single-file with nowhere to escape?

Following railroad tracks makes you the deer walking into the wolf’s jaws. No cover. No elevation. No escape routes. Just you, exposed, visible against open gravel or steel.

And don’t kid yourself—if you can see a half mile down the tracks, so can someone else. Someone who might be hungrier, colder, and far less patient than you.

When the world falls apart, people get territorial, tribal, and vicious. Some groups will set up along these tracks intentionally, knowing they can pick off stragglers like fruit hanging too low on the tree.

But hey, sure—keep walking the magical steel path from fairy tales. See how that works out.

Railroad Infrastructure Becomes a Beacon for the Worst Human Behavior

Railroad depots, maintenance sheds, abandoned stations, bridges, and tunnels all become choke points. They look like shelter and supply hubs, which means they’ll attract exactly the kind of people you don’t want to meet.

Think about it:

Bridges funnel you into a single narrow crossing
Tunnels turn into traps where sound echoes but movement is limited
Depots become contested territory
Rail yards become sprawling zones where ambushes are easy and escape routes are confusing
Abandoned stations become squatter camps full of people who lost more than just their homes

It doesn’t matter how tough you think you are. Every single one of these spots becomes a risk multiplier.

Railroads don’t guide you to safety—they guide you directly into conflict zones.

“But Tracks Lead to Towns!” Yeah—Destroyed, Picked-Clean Towns

Let’s knock down the next fantasy. The idea that railroad tracks will lead you to towns and therefore resources.

Here’s the truth:

If a town is connected by a railroad, it will be one of the first places scavenged, looted, or burned.
Rail access means easy movement of goods pre-collapse—and easy movement of desperate survivors post-collapse. That means:

Stores emptied
Homes stripped
Hospitals overrun
Local police overwhelmed or gone
Rioters and gangs taking over
Fires left uncontained
Disease spreading

Railroad towns are not charming havens. They are graveyards filled with reminders of how fast civilization fell apart.

But hey, if you want to be the thousandth person to show up looking for supplies, be my guest.

Walking Tracks Drains Your Energy and Sanity

Everyone imagines railroad tracks as level and easy to walk. Try it in real life sometime. Walk five miles on uneven gravel with heavy gear, then come back and tell me how “easy” it is.

Now imagine doing it after the collapse, when:

You’re running on limited calories
You’re dehydrated
You’re stressed
You’re hyper-alert
You’re carrying your life on your back

Railroad ballast tears up your feet and ankles. It slows you down. It exhausts you faster than dirt trails or roads. Energy is survival, and tracks drain it with every step you take.

But the fantasy hikers will still tell you it’s a shortcut to safety.

Railroads Offer Zero Concealment, Zero Cover

And this one is simple:

You have nowhere to hide.

Dense woods? Nope.
Rocks? Nope.
Structures you can duck behind? Not really.

Railroad tracks are open wounds cutting across the landscape. You are visible from a distance. You are predictable. You are exposed.

If you want to survive a post-SHTF landscape, staying hidden is life. Walking along railroad tracks is a declaration of your location to every living thing within a mile radius.

In a World Without Rules, Tracks Are a Liability, Not a Lifeline

Movies have lied to you. Nostalgia has lied to you. Childhood memories have lied to you.

In the real collapsed world—the one preppers think about while the rest of society sleeps—railroad tracks are not a rescue line.

They are:

Funnels for refugees
Highways for predators
Snares for the optimistic
Dead ends for the naive
Markers of desperate travel
Predictable, dangerous migration corridors

In other words:
They’re a map straight to your final destination—just not the one you hoped for.

If you take nothing else from this angry rant at humanity’s collapsing sense of reality, take this:

When the world finally burns, the safest path is the one no one else is dumb enough to walk.

And railroad tracks?
Everyone will walk them.

Which means you shouldn’t.

Not if you want to stay alive long enough to see whether the world manages to claw its way back from the ashes.

TheDailyChristian

Tag: survival mistakes

Starting From Nothing: My Painful Journey Into Basic Food Storage Prepping After Losing It All