There is always a reason to keep going – Finding Room to Fail

By Davey; https://daveycobb.com/

I have struggled with mental health issues my whole life. Varying degrees of sporadic anxiety and depression have prevented me from achieving past goals, helping others, taking care of my physical health, enjoying a good social life, pursuing several career paths. I look back at most of my life and realise that these two dark clouds – depression and anxiety – have covered me wherever I have been.

The key, I have found, is to not blame myself for any moments that may have occurred when mental health has prevented me from doing something. It took me many, many years to overcome the habit of laying heaps of blame at my own door, bemoaning my past actions, telling myself I should have pushed myself more. I found that such a way of thinking added many more layers to my already poor self-image. By blaming myself in such a harsh, direct way, I convinced myself that I was useless, powerless, and would never amount to anything. I held myself back, told myself that there was no point in applying for such and such a job, or pursuing a particular flight of fancy. I pitied myself. I bullied myself. Deep down, I hated myself.

I was wrong.

Change and Growth

On being present for growth – Joshua; https://wehatejosh.me/

Nothing seems to have certainty except for the three phases of existence (birth , life and death).

You ever feel like you wanna do something but your body won’t let you? Sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my own my body.

Not like those people who think they were meant to be a man but they were born female. No , I mean that gut wrenching feeling that you are meant to go in a certain direction but you can’t , you don’t know how or where that direction is. That’s what I feel right now.

To be honest that’s probably not the best description for it , but that’s the best way I can put it into words. I’ve done A LOT of meditation, hours upon hours for the past 3-4 years and there’s a sense you get when you’ve been doing it for that long. The sense is like feeling that your mind and body are two different beings? If that’s a way to put it. Or that the real you is separate from your ego, and your ego puts you in a blind autonomous state, just moving through life without too much thought. It’s a very trapped feeling when you want to get off that conveyor belt of life and move into the direction that you truly want to be. At least the direction that you THINK you want to be.

But now I feel like I’m off topic, there’s a sense in me that I am meant for more. There’s also images in my dreams that I see of possible futures I could have had but my choices led me here and now. (Not trying to get religious in my blog but) God has laid the path for me, and all my dreams I see the same ending. That must be the same for you (the reader) , what ever path in life you must take the ending is the same right? I see myself with some success, moderate fame and enough money that I can live and not worry about the mundane stuff that life throws at me , the stuff I worry about now.

Mental Health is a Bitch! – Finding self-esteem and support

By 3andme; https://3andme875709411.wordpress.com/

I’m not gonna lie these past couple of years have changed me. For better or worse who knows. To be honest if the past couple of years haven’t changed you are you even human? or are you lying to yourself?

I have been on a roller coaster ride of emotions and recently i think everything has come to a head, or at least i can admit now that i am struggling. My head is a mess. I am a mess. I have had enough!

Since i was a teenager i struggled with mental health issues, but back then there was no support… or if there was i certainly didn’t get it. So i muddled through and was quite proud that i could drag myself out of the deep dark holes all by myself.

I recently turned 34 and cried as i didn’t understand why i still felt like i was the same messed up teenager. In my head i still feel like that scared angry child that no one seemed to understand. I was struggling to wake up in the mornings as just didn’t see the point, i would cry myself to sleep with so many different things going round in my head, I couldn’t concentrate on anything, i was having panic attacks and I was constantly tearful.

Joy

By Quotidian Peace; https://quotidianpeace.wordpress.com/

Things have been challenging lately. A considerable amount of change is going on – in a household that thrives on consistency and routine. And this is why I used the word challenging instead of difficult. In fact, replacing the word change with growth would be more accurate. I have started working, Alexander received a promotion, Miriam graduated from physical therapy and occupational therapy. I’ve continued to tackle cupboards, closets, and bookshelves, clearing out years of clutter & chaos. We are in great shape financially, such great shape that we are looking at moving to a slightly larger house (in a much quieter neighborhood) this summer.

But – change is difficult and sometimes painful. It’s leaving the familiar and walking into the unknown. I am an anxious person. There is always a haze of anxiety surrounding me. I am always prepared for the other shoe to drop, for something to go wrong. It is easier for me to deal with failure than success. This sudden good fortune makes me distrustful, worried. And that is where joy comes in.

Joy is how I drown out my anxious thoughts. Joy in simple, daily moments. I have started filling a journal with moments of joy and happy memories. I seek it out during my day as a reminder that I’m OK. The other day I was walking Miriam home from the bus stop. My friend was with me and Miriam was talking a mile a minute. I looked down and my heart stopped. Miriam was holding onto my sweater, needing that connection with me. It was such a simple gesture, but the meaning behind it was once immense. My fiercely independent girl still needs her mom, even if not fully aware of it.

That moment lead me to think about my own childhood and memories from it. I remembered my dad mowing the lawn, making sure to save the lawn clippings. Our dog loved to sit in the clippings on a hot summer day – saving those clippings was an act of love. My mother calling me ‘dolly’ and brushing my hair from my face. Watching my mother rub my father’s back and comfort him after his father died.