Tag Archives: Wellness

Changing, Growth, Healing, Mindfulness, Poetry, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

Alive Once Again

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Rejuvenated, revitalized, revived
I feel alive again
For the first time in a while
I knew I would find myself again
It was never an issue of if, but rather of when
Deep down, for a while, I’ve known who I am
But over time I had lost sight of him again and again

Disillusioned, disenchanted, burnt out
Failing to live up to expectations time after time
But little did I know
How unreasonable I was being
Too hard on myself
Not giving myself enough credit
Selling myself short
Setting the bar way too high

Holding myself to so high a standard
That little by little I started to lose myself
Lose myself to the monster inside my mind
The critic inside was bleeding me dry
Taking so much out of me that soon there was nothing left
Before I knew it the passion had died

Sapped to such a degree that it was no longer fun
I have no one to blame but myself
Expected so much of myself
That I couldn’t see all the good I had done
Couldn’t appreciate the progress
It was never good enough
And I always wanted more

It isn’t a bad thing having such drive and ambition
But you have to be careful that you don’t overwork yourself
Every once in a while, take a step back
And see how far you’ve come
You might still have a long ways to go
But look at the progress!
It ain’t nothing
That’s a blessing in and of itself

So here I come
Feeling alive once again
Rejuvenated, revitalized, revived
I’ve since let go of the expectation (I was putting on myself)
And things seem to be smoother and easier
Now that I’ve let myself off the hook

Be good to yourself
Give yourself some credit
Show a little grace
You’re further along than you think you are
Just have a little faith

Changing, Discovery, Doubt, Dreaming, Growth, Healing, Hope, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness, Writing

A Mixed Bag

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I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for as long as I have. I guess I’ve just been going through some things mentally. No reason to worry though, as my emotional state is good—I’m happy and stable. But something still feels off. Lately, I’ve found that I’m not as excited or enthusiastic about my writing journey as I was previously. I wouldn’t quite call it burnout or writer’s block, since I am still writing daily, even if I’m not doing it on here. But in truth, I don’t really know what I would call it. 

Unfortunately, it’s been a year full of disappointments, which affected me more than I was willing to admit. I’m not really the type of person to complain about things though. If I’m upset about a circumstance I’ll either suck it up and deal with it, or try to find a way to improve it. I pride myself on my problem solving and adaptability, which normally help me come out on top. However, that was not the case this time around. It seems that none of what I tried this year ended up working. While it wasn’t a terrible year per se, nothing ever really swung my way. It’s been more of a mixed bag than anything, so it’s not like the year was a complete disaster—there are still some small blessings to be grateful for. Here’s to hoping that 2025 will be better. 

For the longest time now, my therapist has started each session with the same question, “How are you doing, Justin?” For a while, my answer used to fluctuate greatly from not good to triumphant and everything in between. No surprise there considering my emotional state back then. I wasn’t even-keeled like I am now. I didn’t have the self-awareness that I have now. I didn’t show myself grace or acceptance like I do now. I let bad moods linger and snowball. I allowed my stress level to build and build and build. I didn’t know how to control my anger or sadness all that well. I went through high highs and low lows. My life was a whole rollercoaster of emotions, without a real centerline to return to. I was either elated in the moment but without any lasting joy. Or I was upset and disappointed, with nothing in between. 

That much has since changed. I’ve learned how to accept and process my emotions for what they are, positive or negative. I’ve learned how to regulate them better. Be the one in control of them, rather than letting them control me. Happiness, sadness, anger, are all inevitable parts of life—every emotion is. You can’t just avoid your sadness or anger because you don’t like how they make you feel. Ignoring them or pretending like they don’t exist will only make you ill-prepared for the next time you feel that way. Like many things, I learned this the hard way. Each time I felt anger bubble up I would feel ashamed of it. Every time I felt sad I would beat myself up for it, and end up feeling worse. My life for two and a half decades was riddled with guilt. I had conditioned myself to believe that both of these emotions needed to be avoided at all times. I believed that even the smallest inkling of them was a sign of weakness.

It wasn’t until a few months into therapy that I realized the wrongness of my approach. For the first six months or so, my therapist spent the first fifteen minutes of every session going over one specific emotion in an objective and unbiased manner, in hopes of separating me from my misconceptions. She started out with giving me the definition of the word, which led into thought exercises such as word associations, talking about proper and improper ways to react to said emotion, and other things. Her goal was to get me to accept and embrace all of my emotions, regardless of if I had a positive or negative perception of them. And it worked! But it took some time for me to get there.

Finding my way back to a healthy mindset was a multistep process that took a lot of time and energy. It wasn’t instantaneous like a lightbulb turning on or off. It took a lot of understanding, a lot of breaking down and building up, a lot of self-acceptance to get me to where I am today. But most importantly, it took years of therapy to uncondition myself from my old mindset, and recondition myself into my new one. If you compared who I am today with who I was ten years ago it would be like comparing night and day. You would find two vastly different individuals. But I didn’t change overnight. I didn’t transform from a naive, depressed, twenty-three year old straight to a confident, knowledgable, and calm thirty-three year old. I got from here to there in small increments. I took a few steps forward, a few steps back. I made a few mistakes, I learned a few lessons. But most critical of all, I showed myself grace regardless of the outcome.

I started to accept all parts of me rather than hiding certain things. I stopped trying to suppress interests that I thought clashed with the image I was trying to portray. When it came down to it, the most important bit wasn’t other’s perception of me, but rather, who I actually was. Was I staying true to myself? Was the image of me a genuine portrayal of who I was? Was I proud of the person I had become? For the longest time, the answer to all of these questions was, ‘no.’ I realized through therapy that I was spending way too much time on maintaining the facade. I was wasting energy on this pretense when it would’ve been more productively spent on bettering myself and improving my situation. This led me to a second realization: that the biggest disservice was to myself. The person I hurt the most with these lies was me.

The truth of the matter was that a large part of me was afraid of what life would look like without the facade. For many years, it was part of a safety mechanism that I’d put in place to protect myself. It was a way for me to cover up my biggest sensitivities. To prevent myself from becoming too vulnerable in a relationship—as a shy kid who had a hard time making friends, losing a friendship was one of my biggest fears, so I kept my distance and built up walls (little did I know that it often backfired, resulting in a self-fulfilling prophecy). It allowed me to minimize the “target” on my back by suppressing my nerdier tendencies. It helped me mask my lack of self-confidence. I was able to live in a bubble, pretending like things were fine when they weren’t. It allowed me to continue ignoring my problems, to shove them into a deep corner of my mind where I didn’t have to deal with them.

But as I’ve stated several times before, “out of sight, out of mind” ends up doing more harm than good. By ignoring your issues and shoving them off to the side, you give them room to fester and grow, outside of your purview. Pretending like problems don’t exist doesn’t fix them or make them go away. The problem is still there whether or not you want to acknowledge it. The only way to fix a weakness or a flaw is to face it head on, to address it directly, to admit that it’s actually there. Once I accepted this, I was finally able to move on with my life. As they say in Alcoholics Anonymous, the first step is admitting that you have a problem—something that’s relevant to life in general. 

Once you make this first admission, everything else starts to come into focus. I was able to admit that I didn’t have all the answers and that I needed help. I was able to come to grips with who I was and accept me as I was. And with that acceptance came confidence that I’d never known before. Rather than letting my circumstance dictate the way my life unfolded I finally felt in control for the first time. I was able to rely more on my strengths, and work on my weaknesses. All of this helped me mature into an adult. And I couldn’t have done it without therapy. 

I owe my life to therapy. It rescued me from the darkness inside my soul. It saved me from an untimely death. It liberated me from a life of mediocrity. It gave me purpose again. It gave me courage to face the gloom that clouded my mind. It gave me the strength to face my fears. But most importantly, it taught me self-awareness. It taught me how to be confident. It taught me how to rediscover my passion. Without therapy my life would’ve turned out differently. Without it I wouldn’t be adequately prepared to face what life has to throw at me. So even though 2024 was full of disappointments I can still move on. I can continue chasing my dream. The dream doesn’t change, but how I get there might. So all I have to do is keep an open mind. Be adaptable like I’ve always been. It’ll all come together eventually. 

Discovery, Growth, Mindfulness, Poetry, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness, Writing

Meet Me Halfway

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One day son it’ll be made clear
That you can’t always get what you want
Try as you may
There will come a time when you realize
That to get the most out of life requires compromise
It requires sacrifice
And it means that you’ll have to meet people halfway
You won’t always get your way
And that’s perfectly okay

That’s how life goes
You win some and you lose some
That’s always been the way (that it is)
It just depends on how the wind blows
Some days it’ll be favorable, some days it won’t
You’ll have to learn to accept that
And roll with the punches
You’ll have a hard time in life if you don’t

There comes a time in your life
When you’ll have to compromise
When you’ll have to make sacrifices
It’s a sign of maturity, a part of growing up
One day you’ll wake up and find
That you’ll have to meet someone halfway
In order to build a life
You’ll both have to sacrifice
You can’t have a symbiotic relationship any other way

That’s how it is with most things
The sooner you realize the more that you’ll thrive
The sooner you accept compromise the more you’ll be prepared
For whatever life throws your way
You’re going to have to meet me halfway
Neither of us can do all the work
That’s neither fair nor just

The name of the game is to be a meaningful part of society
You can’t really be that if you’re always trying to get your way
Sometimes you have to accept that it won’t tilt your way
You’ll have to meet them halfway
Accept that you might have to compromise
Accept that you’ll have to sacrifice
It’s an inevitable part of life

Brokenness, Changing, Depression, Discovery, Growth, Healing, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Nature, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness, Writing

Finally Feeling Appreciative

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All these years I’ve never really had an appreciation for nature. Birds annoyed me. Scenery was boring. I hated raking the leaves and shoveling the snow. But most of all, I just didn’t really like being outside. There was too much pollen, too much dirt, not enough things to do. Weak excuses, I know! I just wasn’t the most active kid. I would ride my bike around the neighborhood in the summer. And I would snowboard or tube in the backyard (or hit the slopes, of course) in the winter. As a family, we would go on the occasional hike or camping trip. But aside from that, I spent most of my free time indoors—I preferred to be in my room. 

Growing up, my mom used to take us to the library all the time. I can’t say what drew me in exactly, but naturally, I gravitated towards fantasy and sci-fi—that interest has only strengthened over time. That being said, fantasy being what it is, I spent many a day immersed in wild landscapes. Reading about forests and oceans. Over the hill and through the woods. You know, heroes embarking on adventures and all that. Which should lend itself to love and appreciation for nature, right? Wrong! I liked nature in theory, but not in practice. I wandered the deserts and the plains on the page, but couldn’t be bothered to do it in person.

Fast forward to high school. Some things changed, but many others didn’t. I remember reading (and writing) quite a lot of poetry all four years. It was my first love, even if I didn’t want to admit it for a long time. There’s one unit that’s still particularly vivid in my mind. It was the winter of sophomore or junior year, the entire term was spent reading poetry. We started with the Brooding Romantics, then we moved onto Transcendentalism, and we ended with a third movement that I can’t seem to remember the name of (Realism maybe?). As you would expect, many a poem touched upon flora and fauna, scenery and wildlife. Sure, each one was super descriptive, sounded great, and was beautifully crafted, but I never truly understood it. I could picture the scene in my mind, but I could’t see the appeal in it, or appreciate the beauty. Nature just didn’t seem to resonate with me. I tried again and again to see things from their perspective but I just couldn’t do it.

The fact of the matter is I just didn’t have much appreciation for life in general. I wasn’t one to count my blessings or see things with rose-colored lenses or consider the glass to be half-full. I was more likely to mope or feel sorry for myself or focus on what I lacked. My vision was clouded by my hurt. I had too much bitterness and resentment in my heart to allow for love to come in. And without love, there is no appreciation. I know that full well now. Without love, everything dies. Without love, there is no joy or happiness or peace. Without love, there is only pain and hardship and bitterness. Everything needs love, everything starts with love.

I understand that finding a romantic partner is particularly difficult for some. But that’s not actually what I’m trying to get at here. When I say that, “everything starts with love,” I mean that everything starts with self-love. Unfortunately, that is easier said than done. I dunno what it is about our culture, but we’ve conditioned ourselves to be our biggest critics. We’re prone to self-deprecation and devaluing our worth. I suspect that oftentimes started out as a defense mechanism to protect us from bullying. “If I’m laughing at myself, then it means that they have no power over me.” But where do we draw the line? When does the self-deprecation go too far? When does it start to damage our ego and effect our self-confidence? I wish I knew the answers to these questions when I was younger. Perhaps my teenage years wouldn’t have been as rough. 

But as I’ve said before, we’re not able to change the past. Our trauma and our scars are a part of us, just as our passions and our interests are also. The good and the bad make us who we are. We can’t have strength without weakness. Positive without negative. Healing without hurting. That being said, my depression and my anxiety are a part of me. It’s a part of my history, but it’s also a part of my story. Even though I’ve found my healing, these are things I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. Depression isn’t a thing that’s over and done with, it’s something I have to fight every single day of every goddamn year. Despite what it seems, acknowledging that doesn’t mean that you’re giving it power. But rather, that you accept and love yourself as you are: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Your mental illness(es) are part of your story, but they don’t define you.

For a long time, that wasn’t something that I believed. Instead, I let the voices win. I bought into the lies that they told me. You’re worthless. You’re useless. You won’t amount to much. It seemed that my depression and anxiety would get in my way at every turn. And so they did until I finally ended up in therapy. Life was quite dark for me, trapped beneath a cloud of despair. I’ve vowed to never return to that melancholic state, but it’s a daily struggle for me (and for people like me). That’s just how it goes.

I’ll have good months and bad months, good weeks and bad weeks, good days and bad days. Some days are easier than others, some days I can be strong in my resolve. Others are tougher. But regardless, I will still fight. Battles will be hard fought, but the war will never be won. But that doesn’t mean that I give in. I just need to keep picking myself back up, dusting off my shoulders, and continuing forwards. Instead of cowering like I used to, I stare down my mental illness and say, “not today, motherfucker. I am in control of this life, not you.” Just because I’ve been dealt that card doesn’t mean that I’m going to let it hold me back. Not anymore. The going has been tough, and will continue to be, but I’ll be better for it in the end. I only come out of this stronger. Better. Wiser.

So, as I grow older, the acceptance and love for myself also grows. And with that comes appreciation. Appreciation for the things around me. Everything that I’ve been blessed with. The good and the bad. My strengths and my weaknesses. The lessons that I’ve learned. The trauma from my past. The brightness of my future. But most importantly, I’ve finally started to understand the thing that never made sense to me before. I’m finally able to appreciate the beauty of nature. The birds chirping in the morning. The scent of flowers in bloom. A trek through the forest. A walk along the beach. The stunning vistas from the mountaintops. Life can be abundant, and full of joy. It can be happy and fulfilling. It can also be busy and stressful. So don’t forget to take a moment to smell the roses. 

Growth, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

Feeling My Age

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“Act your age.” I’m sure everyone has heard that reprimand more than a few times in life. But what exactly does it mean? Is it even a reasonable thing to say? I’ll admit, this isn’t something I ever really challenged before. In truth, I didn’t challenge much when I was younger. Sure, I asked questions and let my curiosity lead me. But when an authority figure said something, I took what they said at face value. What were we supposed to do? We didn’t know any better, and we were always told to listen to and obey our elders. If what they told us was wrong, was it still in our best interest to do what we were told? The older I get, the more I wonder how many of the things they told us were misguided or flat out incorrect.

What can I say? Therapy has changed me. It’s made me more self-aware, and with that came learning how to self-reflect. I’m not able to look at things the same way anymore, no matter how hard I try. My perspective has changed, and I’m not the same person that I used to be. There was no point in fighting it, because it was inevitable. The more that I learned, the less ignorant I became. There was no possible way to reverse course. Once the door to wisdom and knowledge opened, there was no going backwards. It just wasn’t and isn’t possible. That being said, every memory or past experience can be and will be examined in a different light.

There’s nothing that tells me that I have to self-reflect on my own time. Theoretically, I could leave it solely to be done at therapy. However, it’s something that can’t be helped. I think a lot—that’s how I’ve always been. But just because I did a lot of it, didn’t necessarily mean that it was beneficial for me to do so. I had a tendency to overthink, dwell on the past, and fall into a cycle of loathing and self-pity, all of which is toxic energy. What I did was mull over things that couldn’t be changed. Instead of using my past to inform my future, I was reimagining the past by thinking of things I could’ve done differently. A wholly unhelpful exercise. It was thinking without action to follow, which is meaningless and wastes time. You can think over all the different changes you want to make in life, but until you take that first step towards actually doing something about it, your situation is going to remain the same. In order to live the life that you want to live, you have to take charge. 

Windows of opportunity can and will open up, but you need to pursue them and seek them out. It’s not often that things will just be handed to you. That’s not how life works. You’d have to be extremely lucky (or spoiled) for things to just fall into your lap. In order to be blessed you have to work towards those blessings. The life that you want is there for the taking, but you have to put in the work. It sounds rather obvious and intuitive. Why wouldn’t you work hard for the things that you want? But knowing it and living it are two different things. For twenty odd years I knew it, but I didn’t live it. It was something I knew on a surface level, but it wasn’t what drove me forwards in life. It didn’t resonate with me.

Not until I started working towards something. Not until I found my purpose and calling. Not until I found something that I’m good at and am passionate about. Not until I matured and grew up. I’ll be honest, I was a late bloomer—no shame in that. Each individual develops at their own pace, and as such, certain milestones are reached faster or slower, at different ages or stages of life. All of this is normal. Our variability is what makes us human. If we were all homogenous we’d be no different than robots, destined to follow the program that’s written for us. But that’s not who or what we are. We’re meant for great things, but it requires a certain level of work ethic, dedication, and perseverance—mental fortitude in short. 

Mental fortitude is something that’s developed over time, not something that’s taught or learned. Without it it’s easy to give up. It’s easy to back down when met with adversity. It’s easy to start believing the lies that we are told—the ones that tell us we’re not good enough, that we won’t amount to anything, that what we do isn’t meaningful. No one ever told me any of this outright, so where did these lies stem from? Yes, my depression and anxiety were both big factors in this. But I’m not the only one with this story. I’m not the only one who lacked self-confidence and had a warped sense of self-worth. I’m not the only one who struggled with the transition from childhood to puberty. I’m not the only one who had a hard time growing up.  

“Act your age.” A phrase that was seemingly innocuous for the longest time. I never thought anything of it. But I’ve recently come to the realization that a lot of what we were told when we were younger was actually quite damaging to our psyches, even if we didn’t know it at the time. What would such a statement do to an eight-year-old who’s misbehaving? What would it do for a pre-pubescent or a teenager who’s already having enough trouble finding themselves as is? Not a helpful phrase by any means, because, again, what exactly does it mean? If all individuals progress at different rates, then such a statement is inherently faulty. We’re left chasing a constantly moving target, looking to meet expectations that we’ll never live up to. 

It took me more than two and a half decades to finally break free of this. To finally stop living for other people, and start living for myself. I had let expectations and projections put a cap on my ceiling. Let what others said of me limit my potential. But no one knows me better than I know myself. I needed to do what was best for me. Starting with pursuing a career that was actually fulfilling, and seeking out the hobbies that I enjoyed. No longer worrying about how others perceived me, no longer feeling the need to suppress my true self. I realized that no one can tell me how I should live my life. Because when it comes down to it, not all advice is good advice, nor is all of it applicable to me. I take what works for me, and leave the rest.

So with that comes a time when I finally feel my age. For the longest time, I refused to grow up, refused to mature. Was just a kid stuck in an adult’s body. Acting, thinking, speaking the same way for all those years. I was stubborn and stuck in my ways. Knew that things weren’t working, but refused to try things a different way. I think part of it was fear—fear of failure, fear of disappointment, fear of the unknown. Part of it was being comfortable enough with where I was. And part of it was my anxiety telling me that I didn’t deserve any of it. Perhaps it was true that I didn’t deserve any flowers at the time. But it didn’t mean that I would never earn them. I just needed to try.

I just needed to find my purpose. Find my place in the world. And put in the effort to get to where I wanted to go. But most importantly, I needed to grow up and mature. None of which would’ve been possible if I hadn’t been forced out of my comfort zone. Nothing makes you turn into an adult quicker than being thrown out there into the real world. There comes a time in everyone’s life, when you find yourself at a crossroads. You can either keep acting the same way that you’ve always acted, or you can change, improve, and mature. You can either keep acting like a kid, or you can become an adult. At some point or another, you have to make the conscientious decision to grow up.