Category Archives: Mindfulness

Changing, Discovery, Growth, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

The Man in the Mirror

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I just returned from a well-needed and well-deserved vacation. The second one I’ve taken in the last four months. I’m rested, relaxed, and refocused. So that’s it, take two. Here we go. Let’s try this again. No distractions. No lack of focus. No being thrown off my game this time. As I’ve mentioned several times recently, getting back on track hasn’t been easy as of late. We’ve gone over the self-doubt, and perceived lack of support and understanding, and the differing expectations, so we don’t really need to rehash that here. I need to do better and try harder to get on schedule, that’s really what it comes down to. No excuses. And no, “I’ll try.” I just need to do it and that’s it. 

I have to admit that this is still kinda new to me: transitioning to vacation mode and back. When I was still part of the workforce I had been conditioned to believe that I needed a very good reason for missing work. So I barely took off—something I still regret. Several well-timed vacations would’ve given me a chance to physically and mentally reset. I know that now, but you live and you learn. And you can’t change the past. If I had been in a better mental state back then my life would’ve turned out very differently. Would it have been better? Would it have been worse? Would I still have learned the lessons that I needed to learn? Who knows. 

All I know is that I’m moving forward, in the midst of a transformation. I think everyone is to some extent. Everyone came out of the pandemic changed in some way. How could we not? We live in a society where most individuals don’t spend that much time isolated and alone. It has now come and gone, and we’re still trying to figure out what life looks like afterwards. Truth be told, I didn’t really know what life was supposed to look like before that either. For most of my teenage and adult years I was suffering from depression and anxiety. I had trouble finding the meaning in life, and I didn’t know what happiness looked like. All I knew was pain and suffering, and sadness. No surprise then that my outlook on life was already tainted.

As I’ve said before, therapy saved me and brought me healing. It helped me to change my mindset. Helped me to be more grateful. More productive. More satisfied with where I was and where I was going. More in tune with myself. It showed me how to love myself and to love others. It showed me the meaning of life. And it showed me my purpose. I could go on about what it’s done for me, but we would be here all day, so I’ll end with this: the most important thing that therapy taught me was how to think critically and reflect. Neither of which was something I really did much of before. Yes, I did a lot of thinking when I was younger, but I spent a lot of that time moping and/or feeling sorry for myself, which obviously isn’t helpful or productive.

That’s not what reflection is. Reflection isn’t just thinking for the sake of it. It isn’t just stewing over things in your head or circulating thoughts. Reflection calls for action. It requires dictating the next steps, finding a path forwards. It means thinking about ways to avoid making the same mistakes. It means learning from your past to better guide your future. You know what the fun thing about reflection is though? You can always learn new things from revisiting past events. Growth isn’t always linear. Past trauma can teach you different things in different phases of your life. 

Although that became clear to me during my first cycle of therapy, it’s something that I’m reminded of continually. Naturally, I’m someone who doesn’t really let things go. Try as I may I don’t really forget past events, misplace information, or overlook minor details. It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. I’m good with names and faces. I could probably put together a family tree based off of anecdotes. I can recall details you may have told me once in passing five years ago. But I also find it hard to forgive and forget. I find it hard to move past disagreements. I find it hard not to hold grudges. No surprise then that when I was younger I used to react in destructive ways. I was prone to lashing out or acting petty. If I didn’t do either I would bottle up my emotion until it reached harmful levels. I either became a detriment to others or a detriment to myself.

Over time and through therapy I’ve learned to explore things in more productive ways—turn my negative energy into positive energy. And that starts with reflection. If I’m going to be spending all that time thinking about the past, then I better make the most of it. Instead of stewing, I should be processing. Instead of internalizing perceived slights against me I should be thinking of how I can be better. Instead of getting caught up in the failure, I should be learning from the mistake. Once I started focusing my attention on the future rather than dwelling on the past I was able to move on with my life. Able to better direct my path moving forwards. 

There’s nothing worse than the feeling you get when you keep making the same mistakes over and over. You might feel like you’re stuck, or that you have no say in the matter. You might feel like the outcome is inevitable, but it’s not! You aren’t destined to be a failure. You aren’t destined to be a loser. You aren’t destined to keep repeating the cycle. You can alter the course of your life, but you have to learn from your mistakes. If things aren’t working out you have to try something new. You have to be willing to ask for help or guidance. You have to try your best to problem solve. And you know what that starts with? Yup, you guessed it: reflection. You take what life has given you and you think things through. You reflect before you react, and then you go from there.

It’s really pretty crazy looking back at what my life looked like before I started reflecting. It was chaotic and uncontrolled. Unpredictable in some ways but obvious in others. Of course pre-reflection Justin was also pre-therapy Justin, so we do have to take that into account. I already wasn’t sound of mind, but add poor decision making to the mix, as well as stubbornness that led to repeating the same mistakes? That’s a recipe for disaster. In essence I was going through life without a game plan. Trying to figure out how to live without any direction. My decision making was almost always rash and in the moment, not thinking about how it would affect my future. Not thinking of the repercussions, of which there were many. I lived moment to moment, thinking that I would deal with things as they came. 

Sounds good in theory, but this just wasn’t something that happened. Expectation wasn’t reality. As I’ve said before, I was more likely to run and hide from adversity than to face it head on. I wanted to deal with things as they came, but I didn’t. Part of it was because I didn’t know how, but a larger part of it was that I didn’t even try. It’s one thing to think something, but being determined to do it is something else entirely. However, neither matters if action doesn’t follow. I say this time and time again, but I’ll say it again. In order to live the life that you envision, you need to do your part. You need to push and grind. You need to put in the effort.

And yes, it all starts with reflection. Things didn’t used to go my way because I didn’t have any semblance of a plan in place. I hadn’t plotted how I would get from point A to point B. I hadn’t figured out how to stop repeating mistakes. I hadn’t drilled down to the root of my issues. I hadn’t actually made any changes to my mindset or lifestyle, even though I kept telling myself that I would. I wanted or expected certain things from life but I didn’t do what needed to be done in order to get those results. I hadn’t learned my lessons. Life is funny that way. It might feel like you’re destined to repeat past mistakes or to suffer from the same issues. But you’re really not. It only feels that way because you haven’t learned from them yet. Once you learn from them, life will throw new challenges at you and you can move on.

Unfortunately, it took me twenty-eight years to finally move on. To finally try something different after years of frustration. To finally admit that what I was doing wasn’t working. To finally realize why my life felt meaningless—because what I was doing wasn’t fulfilling. To finally decide that I wanted to live a life that was worth living. To finally be a productive member of society. And it took another year and a half to come up with a gameplan. None of this would’ve been possible without reflection. And reflection only happened cause of therapy. So when I say that therapy saved my life, I mean that in more ways than one. It helped me to redirect my life trajectory. Helped me to rediscover my purpose and meaning. Helped me to redefine what I meant to the world. 

But this starts with me. And it starts with you. It starts with processing your past to guide your future. It starts with looking in the mirror and deciding who you want to be. It starts with making the steps necessary to better your quality of life. It starts with sitting down and figuring out what’s working and what isn’t. It starts with coming up with reasons to keep on going, thinking of what gets you up in the morning. The life that you’re living might not be the life that you’re meant for. The career path that you’re on might not be the thing that you’re passionate about. But you will never know unless you reflect.

Art, Changing, Family, Growth, Healing, Loss, Mindfulness, Poetry, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

Better On My Own

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We used to be close
But we’ve grown apart
We used to be aligned
But now we are not
We were on convergent paths
But now I’ve changed
A part of me wishes that we were still the same
But that is never to be, never again
We are different you and I
Only meant to intersect, not to intertwine
I mourned what we lost a long time ago
I’m over it now, we can’t go back
I’m only moving forwards
Only moving onwards
I never meant to leave you behind
But that’s just the way it goes
My top priority these days is continuous growth
You had your chance to grow alongside me
You had your chance to help me through
We tried it your way
Now we’ll try it mine
Your intentions were the only thing you ever had in mind
But intention is not reality
What you thought would work didn’t
I don’t blame you though, for how would we have known?
We could’ve worked through it together
Tried something else, made up a new gameplan
But you thought you knew best
Weren’t gonna rest
Until you molded and shaped my life to fit your vision
But that was never what was intended
I had always been built different
Always meant for something else
For a long time I didn’t know what it was
But now it’s revealed itself
I won’t settle for anything less
Everything is a failure if it isn’t my best
I’ll put my all into this endeavor
Do everything in my power to live the life I deserve
Work harder for my goals than I’ve ever worked before
This is my life purpose, through hard work I deserve this
The only way I’ll live the life I want to live is with effort
I’m sure you know this
But you still found the chance to bring me down
Still felt the need to rein me back
We’re not the same as we used to be
We used to be close
But we’ve grown apart
We used to be aligned
But now we are not
We tried it your way
Now we’ll try it mine
I don’t need you anymore
You’ve outgrown your use
We had our chance to grow together
We could’ve tried to work through
But we’ve went in separate ways
And I don’t need you
I’m better on my own
Better without you
Better on my own
No longer subject to your abuse
Better on my own
I’m capable of doing this alone
I didn’t wanna leave you behind
But it’s clear that I have to
You’re the one holding me back
I’m sorry, it’s time to axe you

Art, Growth, Healing, Hope, Mindfulness, Poetry

Lend Your Ear

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Everyone always seems to have an opinion
Thinking that what they have to say matters most
Putting in their two cents when nobody asked
Whatever happened to lending an ear, to listening?
Whatever happened to speaking only when necessary?
Why is there a need to fill the void?
Why are words spoken when nothing need be said?

The silence can be deafening
But it can also be tranquil, full of peace
A reprieve from the fake news cycle
A brief moment of reflection and contemplation
A moment of silence where we can be together
Soak in each other’s presence and be at peace
You didn’t ask for my opinion, you didn’t ask me to speak
All you needed was an ear to hear
All you needed was for me to be there

So that is what I’ll give
If there’s more I can do, you’ll let me know
But I won’t make this about myself
I won’t say, “don’t worry. I’ve been there before.”
I won’t say, “I know your pain.”
I won’t equate my situation with yours

For even though there may be similarities
Our stories are not the same
Each one is unique
Each individual has different tools 
Each individual walks a different path
We have our similarities and our differences 
We can leave it at that

I will be there to comfort those who are hurting
I will be there to show that I care
I will listen first, and speak later
Because all I need to do is show that I’m there

The silence can be deafening, but no words need be spoken
I won’t fill the air with noise if you’re feeling broken
I will listen first, and embrace you afterwards
I will speak if necessary but I won’t prattle without a care
You know that I’ll be there
I’m always there to listen
Always willing to lend an ear

The silence may be deafening
But it’s better than words thrown around without care
Sometimes all you need is a shoulder to cry on
An ear to hear
Opinions don’t matter when all you need is care
So shut up and listen
Don’t feel the need to fill the air
Listen first and just be there
Lend your ear and go from there

Art, Changing, Family, Growth, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness, Writing

Venomous Thoughts

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September was not a good month for me, and October has been more up and down than most. If you’ve been paying attention you likely already know this. My poetry tends to reflect my current mood. So if you’ve been keeping up with that, you’ve been following along with me on an emotional rollercoaster. They say that life informs art. In times like these it’s never been more clear to me. At the risk of sounding arrogant or like a hypocrite, one thing I have to keep reminding myself is to listen to my own advice.

In recent months I’ve been stressing the importance of staying focused and putting in the work. On fine-tuning your process and making continual improvement. On staying confident, on filtering out the noise. But I’m one to talk… More often than not these days, I’m allowing myself to get distracted, causing me to lose focus. I find myself lacking motivation and losing interest; not sticking to my work schedule. I don’t wake up early, excited to get to work. I don’t go to sleep making a checklist of things I need to work on or fix. I don’t think about my writing much in my off-time. I don’t cycle through different ideas in my head. I no longer brainstorm lists of topics I want to cover.

Not like I used to. Something’s changed and my passion doesn’t feel like passion anymore. At times it feels more like work, and that sucks the fun out of it. I know the talent is there and I’m still confident in my abilities. But I’m no longer so certain that this is what I want to do—is this still my future? In the past I’ve given up because the going got tough. And there were times when I gave up because I had bought into my doubts. I don’t think that’s what’s happening here per se, but it doesn’t make it any less unsettling. I’ve put so much time and effort into this—I’ve poured my heart and soul into it—do I really want to give up after I’ve already come this far? After searching for more than twenty-five years I finally found something that I was good at and that I enjoyed doing. It was fun and fulfilling, worthwhile, and I want to say that it still is (although it hasn’t always felt that way of late). So why am I starting to feel this way again? Why does it feel so empty? I’m stronger than this!

I’ll readily admit that reality did not quite meet my expectations (I’ve mentioned this several times already). I had exited the workforce with delusions of grandeur. I had thought that I would hit the ground running, and after a year or so of steady work boom my manuscript would be finished. And that’s it, voila I’d be a published author. A certified rockstar. Of course it was never ever going to happen that way. It was nowhere close to the realm of possibility. As I’ve said before, I had a bit of a rude awakening. But it came at the right time. I needed to be knocked down a few pegs in order for me to see how far I still needed to go. It was a well-timed ego check because I was already talking like an all-time great when I hadn’t put in the work. Somewhere along the way I had lost sight of my humility, which could’ve been detrimental. Luckily for me, providence was on my side.

I can only imagine what would’ve happened if I had made it far enough in my journey where I started to rack up rejection letters. Who knows what that would’ve done to my confidence. Would I have realized that more work was needed and persevered? Or would I have doubled down in my hubris? Gotten it into my head that my worth was being undervalued, that my greatness wasn’t being appreciated? Or would I have taken it as a sign that I wasn’t cut out for this life? I have a feeling that regardless of how I felt I probably would’ve stopped writing altogether, and that’s the worst thing I could do. Besides, it would’ve been embarrassing to have gotten that far thinking that I was a great writer when vast improvement was needed, in actuality. So, I’m grateful for the growing pains. I’m grateful that I’ll never have to find out what could’ve happened. I’m grateful for the proper timing.

Growing pains are always tough at first. But they helped me to elevate my game, showed me what needed to be done, grounded me in reality. Without them I’m not the man or the writer that I am today. More importantly though, they helped me to temper my expectations, helped me redefine my goals. No one will tell you this, but these are things that often change along the way. One thing I knew going in was that I was gonna do things the right way—I wasn’t gonna make the same mistakes I had made when I was younger. I wasn’t going to skip steps. I wasn’t going to look ahead to the end result without first solidifying my process. I wasn’t going to dream of becoming an author, and just hope that it happened. I was going to take the steps necessary to succeed. To stop talking about writing and start actually writing. I didn’t necessarily know what I needed to do to achieve my dreams, but I was going to do my best to find out. And once I did so, I was going to do everything in my power to make it happen.

I think I’ve been doing a fairly good job of that over the past year. I was putting my head down and focusing on my craft for a while. Getting better the more I wrote. Tuning out the noise. Putting on the blinders. But over time it’s become harder for me to do that. The more time I spend on my manuscript the more complicated the story gets (which isn’t a bad thing). I have a grand vision for what I’m trying to do, and I won’t settle for anything less than greatness. What can I say? I’m a perfectionist. However, sometimes my perfectionism gets in the way of my creativity. Acts as a damper, feels like a wet blanket. How many times do I need to rewrite a sentence or switch words around before I’m happy with it? How many different iterations of a chapter am I going to have? When is enough enough? Sometimes I nitpick so hard that it slows down my writing process. So naturally, I’ve spent a good amount of time lamenting my speed.

If I could write faster you know that I would. I’m willing to try anything, but so far very little has worked. No writer is looking to slow down their process. We need to earn a living too! Without a finished product, I have nothing to show the world. Lord knows I’m not going to jump the gun here. 1. Finish the manuscript. 2. Edit and revise until my eyes bleed. 3. Edit some more. 4. Send it out to agents/publishers. 5. Get back on my horse and work on book two. Those are the steps I need to take, in that order. There is no way around that. I can’t sell a book to an agent based on a promise or a premise. I either give them a finished product or I leave them alone. If I send something that’s a work in progress or unpolished I will be ignored. That’s just how it goes. Agents are busy people too. This is how the industry works. These are the rules. You either follow them or you find something else to do with your time. 

Get it? Got it? Good. Ya know, no pressure. In a past life I would’ve wilted already. I would’ve used these as reasons not to try. “It’s too difficult… It’s gonna take blood, sweat, and tears… But what if I get rejected once, twice, thrice? What if I never finish it? What if I’m not good enough?” All that is bullshit. Excuse making. Giving up before you’ve even tried. You’re in essence saying that you have no confidence in yourself. So tell me, why should anyone else have confidence in you? I’m sorry, but that’s inexcusable to me. I’ve been through that before—putting the cart before the horse—and it’s an utter waste of time. Your focus would be better spent on controlling what you can control i.e. bettering your craft and putting in the work. The best things in life require effort. They require all of your time and energy. You can’t expect good things in life if you’re half assing everything.

That being said, I have my work cut out for me. There’s still a lot I need to do before I can let my novel see the light of day. I haven’t let that deter me for the most part, but it does sometimes feel overwhelming. What can I say? I’m only human. While I don’t pay much attention to what others expect of me, it doesn’t mean that I’m free from expectation entirely. The weight of my own expectations weigh down heavily on me. More than not wanting to disappoint others, I don’t want to disappoint myself. I couldn’t give two shits what people say my life should look like. But I’ll be damned if my life doesn’t look like how I want it to look simply because I gave up. If I did all in my power and things still didn’t work out, that’s a different story. At least I tried. 

That’s something I have to keep reminding myself: see this through to the end. No matter what it takes, no matter how long, no matter the uncertainty. But sometimes I can’t help feeling antsy. It’s already taken me longer than I expected, so a question I keep asking myself is, “how much longer will it take?” No one knows the answer for sure. You can’t rush greatness. I have to keep chipping away. Some days I’ll feel more creative than others. Some days I might write faster. That doesn’t really matter, as long as I keep working each and every day. I hold myself to a high standard, and I must keep moving towards it. Progress is the name of the game. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done. Every artist has their doubts. Every artist will get into their own head at times. There will be times when your process is disrupted. It’s generally forgivable when the disruption is self-induced. You’re pissed at yourself for a minute, but you get over it and move on. You keep on pushing. You eventually find your way out of your rut, because you have to. Your drive and ambition comes from within.

What I can’t forgive is when someone else disrupts my writing schedule, and is unapologetic about it. Of course, I must be lenient. For most non-creatives, the life of an artist is hard to understand. There’s usually no tangible proof of progress until we’re done. I fully acknowledge that our expectations for our work does not always line up with outside expectation, nor is it always readily apparent what they even are. However, our leniency has a limit. We will not let outsiders belittle us because we haven’t met their expectations. We will not let outsiders tell us that our process isn’t working—that’s for us and us alone to determine. And we will not let outsiders discourage us from pursuing our goals. Again, easier said than done. We know what we need to do and we know what we need to focus on. We understand that art is subjective, and thus we will receive positive feedback as well as negative. That’s a given. As I’ve said before, we need to learn to tune out the noise, because all of it distracts us from bettering our craft. 

For the most part, blocking this stuff out hasn’t been difficult for me. I can usually brush off the criticism. I’ve improved my writing ability to a point where I’m confident that it’s high quality and I feel like it’s relatively clean and polished. Having a writing community to lean on will do that for you. I have a group of like-minded individuals that will tell me what’s working and what isn’t. What needs improvement. What should be changed. On top of that I have a good gauge of how I hold up compared to other writers. If I know where my strengths lie, and if I know what I need to do, it should be smooth and easy sailing right? 

Wrong… Sometimes life has other things in mind. That’s become apparent to me in the last two months. In the summer, although my writing process had slowed, I still felt good about it. I was still tinkering away and doing good work. Making notable progress in my story and in my writing technique. Yes, it was slower than I wanted, but the standard was being met and that was what mattered. The speed of the process was only an inkling in the back of my mind—not something that stole away my attention. It did bother me a little but it didn’t stop me from writing. At least not at first. I was still 100% emotionally invested in my work. But over time, an outside circumstance (which I’ll decline to get into) started to sap me of my emotional investment. And once that happened, the path ahead wasn’t as straightforward. There were more ups & downs, more twists & turns.

I started to get into my head more. Started to second guess the quality of my work. To question if this was what was meant for me. If in fact my slow process was too slow. I had reached troubled waters. Deep down I knew I would be able to push through. But that didn’t silence the doubts, not all the way. I’d like to believe that I’m mentally tough, but it doesn’t always feel that way. Sometimes the negativity circulates through my brain and causes me to spiral. If I’m focused, I can usually stop myself from letting that happen. When I’m not focused is when trouble starts. 

And sure enough, when I wasn’t looking, life threw another obstacle at me. But I learned a valuable lesson from it: not all of the people that are closest to you are truly for you or on your side. Family members and dear friends can still hurt you. They can still upset or anger you. They can still be misguided or bring you down. They can still be toxic or overbearing. They can still not give you what you need. Unfortunately, this was another thing I learned the hard way. Someone close to me made a snide comment about the slowness of my process, which only served to fuel my doubts. It’s one thing when the voices are coming from within, but a different thing entirely when an outsider reinforces the things you try your hardest not to believe.

People like this are not people that you need in your life. In order to live life to the fullest you need to establish firm boundaries. Don’t let anybody step over them and mistreat you. Don’t let anyone gaslight you and trivialize your worth. Don’t let anyone sap you of your confidence. Doesn’t matter if they’re family—toxic is toxic. Some people use it as a means of excusing their bad behavior. “I can talk down to you because you’re my sister.” “I can make you feel like shit because you’re my son.” “‘You’re not gonna amount to anything,’ and I can say that because you’re my cousin.” 

You remember what they told us in elementary school? “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Too often people lose sight of that. It’s really a shame that people that should know better don’t. But what can we do? Not everyone loves us and cares for us in the ways that we need. Oftentimes our needs only matter in relation to them. Sometimes no matter how many different ways we tell someone what it is that we need, we can tell that they’re not listening. You said your peace and you made it clear that you will no longer tolerate disrespect. So it’s time to move on. We’re putting our heads down and getting to work. We’re settling into our growth mindset, either you grow with us or we leave you behind.

Brokenness, Changing, Growth, Healing, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

Toxic Humanity

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I have to admit, I was probably not the most pleasant person to be around when I was younger. I’ve said before that who I am now is not entirely compatible with who I used to be. We would not have gotten along. A lot of it was because I lacked self-awareness. But I was also self-involved and self-absorbed. I was so caught up in my own issues that I didn’t pay much attention to the world around me. I regret that but it’s not something that I can change. All I can do is learn from my mistakes and do better in the future. 

Everyone’s life journey has its ups and downs. Each playing out with its own rhythm and timing. That being said, for a while I had a hard time coping with the changes that life threw at me, which has been well-documented. Puberty was not a great time for me, but what came after was even worse. Little did I know, but the coping mechanisms I had developed over the years did not actually work. As with most everything else, I learned that the hard way. What can I say? Someone who is as hardheaded as I was needs to see things go to shit firsthand before they’re willing to change their behaviors and tendencies.

But even after I realized that things weren’t working I didn’t really know what to do differently. I didn’t know how to fix everything that was broken. In truth, I wouldn’t have been able to fix it on my own—I know that now—but I pretended like things were fine and that I had the answers. It was easy for me to bottle everything up inside, and try to ignore all my negative emotions. It was easy for me to let bad behavior slide, and let myself be mistreated and manipulated. I let people walk all over me because I didn’t really know how to say no back then or how to put up boundaries or how to stand up for myself. I felt helpless, like my life was out of my control. It wasn’t a good feeling, and it wasn’t something I let go of easily.

I internalized all of the negative things that happened to me, even if I didn’t deal with the emotion head-on. I just suppressed it, and kept it with me. I held grudges and I kept receipts. Sometimes I acted out of pettiness, but mostly I suffered in silence due to my passive nature. It wasn’t actually a solution, but it felt like one. And I was content to let things play out around me. I had accepted my station in life, thinking that I wasn’t capable of changing it. I carried this mentality into adulthood, and while the consequences weren’t immediately visible, it doesn’t mean that they didn’t exist.

Another lesson I learned the hard way—ignoring your issues doesn’t make them go away. In fact, they actually get worse. Each year as my birthday came and went, I buried my pain and trauma even deeper. And the longer I ignored them, the worse my issues got. Even though I was a year older, it didn’t mean that I became a year wiser. Rather, it meant another year of bad habits and faulty coping mechanisms. It meant another year stuck in my ways. Another year of pretending. Another year of lying to myself. Another year of convincing myself that what I wanted didn’t matter. I had the worst of both worlds: I was self-absorbed, but I also didn’t prioritize my needs.

How is this possible, you wonder? Depression, anxiety, and toxic behavior. The first two we’ve covered in depth. This is a mental health blog after all, so it’d be a problem if we hadn’t! My fight against depression and anxiety has been a lifelong struggle for me—that’s old news. But even after finding healing in therapy, this is something I have to deal with every single day. It’s easy to fall back into old ways, old habits, and old mindsets if you don’t stay vigilant. I’ve conquered my demons, but it doesn’t mean that they simply go away. They stay with me forever, but the scars remind me of the decisions I have to continue to make. I need to take what I learned and apply it and reapply it constantly. If I don’t, then all that work was for naught. 

I might have hours, days, or weeks when I’m in a melancholy state. But I can’t let that snowball into something bigger. I can’t let that become permanent, not again. I won’t let myself relapse, I can’t. I refuse to give in, and let my demons win. The changes I’ve made are too valuable to let them go to waste. I’ve worked too hard to allow things to go back to the sorry state they were in. I might find myself in a funk at times, but I also must find my way back. I have to dig my way out, but I don’t want to dig myself deeper. That’s the biggest difference between who I was then and who I am now. 

Everything I did back then only did more harm than good, driving me deeper into my depression. My aforementioned coping mechanisms consisted of ignoring things, pretending that problems didn’t exist, and letting things slide. I neither fixed issues nor addressed them directly. Instead I put them off for future me to deal with. Seems fine for a time, but one day you will reach your breaking point and you will have to pay the piper. If you don’t deal with issues as they arise you will explode when the time comes. It’s better to blow off some steam a bit at a time than to try to tackle everything all at once. Of course, doing that will lead to some upfront adversity and you’ll have tough decisions/conversations to make, but it’s better for you in the long run.

Unfortunately for people like us who are suffering through various mental illnesses, this coping method isn’t always that obvious of an answer. That would make it too easy. We’re more inclined to keep our emotions pent up than we are to wear them on our sleeves. We’re afraid of confrontation. We’re afraid of disappointing or upsetting others. We’re afraid of being vulnerable. We don’t want to bring others down with our sadness. We don’t think they will understand. We don’t want to relive our pain. We don’t want to be a burden. We don’t want to feel helpless. We don’t want to seem useless. Our concerns are valid, but where do they stem from?

The answer most likely varies for each individual. For me, all of my issues could be traced back to my lack of confidence. Up until twelve or thirteen I lived a relatively happy life. I had friends at school and at church. My grades were great for a while. But then in sixth grade, I got my first C, and there were two harrowing incidents where I was accused of something that I didn’t do. The following year, I had a hands-off math teacher that didn’t explain the material well. And I was too shy to ask for help, so naturally, I struggled. These experiences, coupled with others along the way started to sap my confidence. And once that happened, it sent me in a tailspin that I wasn’t able to recover from.

It would be easy to place absolute blame on my teachers for my diminishing confidence. Educators need to have a certain amount of tact, understanding, and compassion when dealing with elementary school kids and pre-teens. It’s clear to me that a number of my teachers were lacking in those regards. But blaming them would absolve me of any responsibility or accountability, which as I stated a few posts ago is something that I’m no longer willing to do. Sure, maybe things would’ve played out differently if I’d had better teachers, but things might’ve also played out differently if I had reacted better or if I had adopted a more optimistic outlook. Everybody and everything played a part in the way that I turned out, self-included. Each factor may have differed in size or importance but it doesn’t mean that it didn’t have an effect. 

The cumulative result was that I struggled in school, in creating and maintaining friendships, and I was woefully incompetent at finding love and acceptance. I didn’t know what I was doing, although I liked to pretend that I did. It looked like pigheadedness at the time, but now that I’m older, I think that it was likely more nuanced than that. It was part of a defense mechanism that I had inadvertently constructed. Outwardly I wanted to appear capable and confident, because inwardly I had started to buy into the doubt. I started to believe that I wasn’t smart, that I was a good-for-nothing, that I wasn’t going to get very far in life. To me, my lack of success in all facets of life was proof that I was always going to be a failure.

Really though, what exactly was I expecting? I was a teenager struggling to figure out his purpose in life—no different than any other American youth at that age. Rarely does someone that young know what the fuck they wanna do. High school and college are there to help you find who you are, and to figure out your calling. You’re supposed to make your mistakes then, so that you’re better informed for the future. Everybody makes mistakes, because no one is perfect. I know people say that all the time, but for whatever reason, this is something that young me didn’t internalize. Part of that can be attributed to the perfectionist within, but again it would be disingenuous to leave it at that. 

What it came down to was having a toxic mindset. I didn’t deal with things in a healthy way. I didn’t allow myself to make mistakes or be imperfect. I wasn’t accepting of my quirks and intricacies, and I didn’t love myself for who I was. I tried not to show emotion because in my mind anger and sadness were bad, and happiness and joy were fleeting. I downplayed my strengths, and I refused to acknowledge my weaknesses. I didn’t know what I was doing but I also didn’t heed outside advice. I convinced myself that I needed to have all the answers otherwise I was worthless. I lacked ambition and drive because I had no direction. I rarely told adults what career path I wanted to follow, in part because I genuinely didn’t know. But the rare instances when I felt confident enough to share, I was shot down quickly. A less sensitive kid might’ve shrugged this off, and been like, “fuck you. I’m going to do what I want to do.”

But of course, that wasn’t me. That wasn’t how I was wired. This would’ve contradicted my passive, anti-confrontational nature. So instead of reacting, I clammed up and I stayed quiet. I built up walls and distanced myself from everyone. I pretended like it didn’t affect me, knowing full well that it bothered me immensely. My rejections and failures were the only things I ever thought about. I never thought about how I could fix things, what I could do better, or what I was good at. Each day I wallowed in self-pity, trapped in my pit of despair. I told myself things like, “you can’t do this,” or “you’re not meant for that,” or “see? I told you you’re dumb.” I know now that this mental self-flagellation only made my depression harder to deal with. I didn’t want to feel this way, but it was what I was most familiar with.

So the cycle repeated. Each time I experienced rejection I took it personally, but I didn’t say or do anything to address it. Every time someone told me I couldn’t do something or that I wasn’t capable, I believed them. Every time someone shat on my dreams, I took it as a sign that my aspirations weren’t rational or attainable. Each time something ended poorly, I took it as confirmation of the lies I told myself. Before long I stopped believing in myself. And when that happened, my dreams began to die. I stopped thinking of what I wanted to do, and I started thinking about what I thought my parents wanted me to do, or what I thought my peers expected of me. I was only just projecting onto others.

That’s besides the point though. Either way I was telling myself that I don’t matter. That my needs weren’t important. That my dreams were delusional. Over time, I began to believe it. And everything that made me me became more and more suppressed. Before I knew it I had lost sight of who I was. I was a shell of a person, just going through the motions. Living out the life that I thought I was supposed to live. There was no passion or fire, just sadness and loneliness. And all this because I had grown used to bottling everything up, and suffering in silence.

Things may have turned out differently if I’d had a less toxic mindset. If I had been more vocal. If I hadn’t let things slide. If I had known how to establish boundaries. But I also wouldn’t be who I am today without my adversity. I wouldn’t have found my strength without seeing my weakness. I wouldn’t have found my passion if I didn’t first try living out the life I thought I was supposed to live. I wouldn’t have found what I was good at without my past failures. I wouldn’t have found happiness without healing. But I wouldn’t have needed healing if I wasn’t broken.

Depression hurts and it sucks. I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. But through it I found who I am. And without my experiences, I wouldn’t be able to share the insight I have today. It is tough, but you will get through it, because you are strong and intelligent and capable. You are worthy of praise, and your life is worth living. But first you have to admit to yourself that you don’t have all the answers. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Don’t be afraid to reach out. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Just don’t keep everything bottled in. It’ll be hard at first—old habits die hard—but it’ll be better for you in the end.