"Simple living doesn't solve all my problems, it just removes distractions." ~Melissa Camara Wilkins At times it's felt like my phone was my only access to the outside world. A place to connect in the middle of the night. The means to stay in touch with friends and family on the other side of the globe.
It was on a hike in Switzerland that she had me convinced it was all my idea: The blog I was going to start. The foundation of the dream I was going to pursue. Today. I limped away from that hike with blisters on my feet, but the seed of an idea in my heart.
Giving myself permission to let my career go was the most passionate thing I have ever done. It's how I found my true calling. I had the job of my dreams, and I fought hard to get it. I was proud of my career, which filled me with passion and purpose.
When my aunt died eight months ago, I couldn't write about it. I wanted to, but I couldn't. Although at the same time, I felt a sense of urgency. I was afraid to not write about it immediately.
" When did this get so much harder?" I asked the pile of dishes in the sink while gesturing vaguely to the toys scattered on the floor, and staring at the pile of work on my desk, still untouched. By "this" I meant, well, everything. Why was I so tired?
The career that had burned so brightly for me was now at risk of burning me out. I knew I needed to make a change. I was completely certain. But the shifts in mindset I'd need to make to allow that change to occur didn't come easily. Not at first.
My mental health journey has taken a significant turn for the better - but that didn't happen until I learned to have a more positive relationship with the most important person in my life. The friends, family, and community I surround myself with are vital to my physical, mental, and social health.
You know that feeling: feeling regret over the one that got away. It might be those perfect jeans that seemed expensive at the time, or that event you didn't attend that was scattered all over your friends' social feeds.
That was a question I asked many years ago, at the beginning of my wellness journey. The story I was told was this: Mental health, or more specifically, mental illness, was simply a part of my biology. There was nothing I could do to change it.
I was reluctant to learn this lesson the first time. But I had to learn it - or at least accept it. Then, when that acceptance was challenged, I had to learn the same lesson all over again. It was only when I stopped searching for the cause that I finally learned something of value from my depression.