World Mental Health Day

World Mental Health Day is observed on 10 October every year, with the overall objective of raising awareness of mental health issues around the world and mobilizing efforts in support of mental health.

With my educational background rooted in psychology, I feel personally connected to this cause. I began this journey with this blog to improve my own mental health as well as impact others. As my personal health declines, my post became less frequent until I reached the point of having too much on my plate that there was no time for me to write.

Now I get paid to write. I head into the office and from 8am to 6pm I am sitting behind this very keyboard somehow finding more time to write than I ever had before. I will admit, occasionally the last thing I want to do after writing for 9 hours, is come home and write, but this is my platform.

This is where I can speak about myself and what is on my mind. This is a safe space for me to talk through my struggles and triumphs and reach out to those that follow my blog. My mental escape was and is this space. It is the therapy I could attend when I was in a new city trying to find my way.

My mental health record has been far from perfect. Occasionally I slip into depressive attitudes: I’m not good enough, I’m not smart enough, I don’t deserve the best. For the past year, I have found myself struggling with anxiety and becoming overwhelmed and instantly shutting down.

However, it is October. For me, thinking positively always brings me back to the surface. October is my favorite month. I am finally in a city with the chilly days greet me in the morning when I step outside. I look in the mirror and feel good enough, smart enough, and that I am deserving of the best.

Talking out my insecurities or destructive thinking has always brought myself to the surface and helped me see a more positive picture. I urge you all to reach out if you ever need a person to speak to. I would not be the person I am today if I did not care in the ways that I do.

Mental health awareness is so important. You are not less than someone else for. The stigma does not exist. Together we need to shed light on days like this to break the idea of a stereotype even surrounding the idea of benefiting your health.

Weekend in Bavaria

I boarded a plane from Newark to Munich to attend a Summer wedding in Bavaria. It was my first time in Germany, and a few days wasn’t nearly enough time to see it all. Most of my time was spent at the Eibsee Hotel where we slept at the foot of the tallest mountain in Germany. We spent hours on the lake on row boats, paddle boats, and motor boat. The cool lake water brought relief to my sunburned legs after forgetting sunscreen at home. The views from the top of Zugspitze reopened my excitement for exploration—this city girl missed the mountains. Bis zum nächsten Mal Deutschland!

Growth.

It has been over a year since I started this blog. Since then I have moved and then moved again. I have started graduate school and an internship; I am nearing the completion of both. I turned twenty-three and wonder if I ever updated my about me (I didn’t—now I did). I went through heartbreak and I am giving relationships a second chance.  I made new friends and left toxic new “friends” behind.

There have been radical changes in my year, and yet I still have more growing to do. I have seen so much growth, but part of me craves more while still wondering what it is I want to grow into.

Grow–grō/

verb

1.  (of a living thing) undergo natural development by increasing in size and changing physically; progress to maturity.

I want to change physically and mentally. There are toxic aspects to my life that hinder me occasionally and I wonder how to shift these habits into better habits.

I took my first step in a new direction by moving. The East Village was my home for a year. I went in wide-eyed and took in the world around me, by the end of the year I hung my head low and averted my eyes from the strangers that surrounded me.

My neighborhood was desirable, my apartment was impeccable, and my life was coveted. I was a grad student, living in the heart of Manhattan, working a corporate job, sharing a life with an incredibly handsome and supportive boyfriend, but I was uneasy.

I was uneasy heading to school and work. I was uneasy in my talents. I was uneasy in my relationship all because I was anxious about the past.

I had a past life in the Village. I had “friends” I spent my evenings with. I just wanted to fade out of their lives, because they did not make my life any easier. I would walk home from the store and worry about running into one of them. I would dread walking by their usual hangouts because I wondered if they would see me, and I would be forced to ask them how they were doing—because I did not care to know.

I should not have feared it all, but I did. I started developing anxiety around the time I made this blog. It was therapeutic to write down my worries until the day to day anxiety got too much to handle, so I silenced myself. I still could stand up for myself and feel good with my days, but it was a rollercoaster of emotions from my morning alarm and my nightly sleeping pills.

When a letter arrived and it was a notice of my rising rent, I took a moment and thought a new beginning would be best for me. I would miss the East Village, but I was working a block from Union Square. I would never be far from my roots in The City, but I would finally breathe in fresh air in a new neighborhood.

Now that I have moved, I have physically changed. I am on the top floor of a walk-up and feel my calf muscles forming again. I oversee the Upper West Side, which is quiet and quaint. My surroundings have matured, and I can already feel the shift in my attitude while I approach each day.

I am excited for more, and I fear less—that was the growth I was hoping for. 

First Year: Done

Finally, it is summer. The completion of my finals may be enough of a sign, but the humidity in the stale New York air makes it feel real. I successfully completed a full year of graduate school at New York University. My first semester, school-wise, went fantastically. I received great marks on my papers and presentations. The new world of grad school was being conquered and I was the victor. The adaption to New York and all of the curveballs with mental health made the Fall, altogether, kinda ehhhh.

Fast forward to the rebooting I did during winter break and feeling better in my new habitat: my second semester, happiness-wise, went fantastically. I was involved in a beautiful relationship, had an incredible support system of friends, and felt overall overjoyed. The curveballs some of my more difficult classes gave me, made the Spring, a bit more than what I am used to. 

I was enrolled in classes that were out of my element. I was being berated for my writing styles and it made finding time to write a task to be fought against. I was losing my passion. For a moment, I no longer wanted to write. I had excelled in all of my classes before, but suddenly I was average. This instructor had no words of advice that ever helped, and all I was hearing was I would never be good enough. I let it get to the best of me and I took it all to heart. I felt like everything I ever wanted did not matter anymore.

It has been only a few days since the completion of my final exam of the semester. I spent the remaining days running around for a new job, interviewing for multiple internships, and trying to stay a float in all of my other tasks. I received an offer for an amazing internship, and came in second for the dream internship.

However, it was the circumstances for the dream internship that got me thinking. A woman working in Human Resources reached out to me on a professional website, in regards to if I had any interest in an opening at their company. I was immediately floored and ecstatic. I hoped on a call with the senior editor, and she asked “where have I seen your writing samples?” I was immediately torn, I had not sent any in, and now I felt like anything I had written in the past was not good enough.

There was a little silence on my end, and a bit of worry surrounding if she had found my old freelance work I had done during undergrad. Then she listed out my blog, this blog, and told me that she loved my style. Firstly, it was so strange to hear that because not even my boyfriend has read any of my blog, but then for a moment, I felt blissful. No one in my personal bubble knows about this space, so meeting someone who knew it was exciting.

I was always recognized by the writing I did in the past. I felt so good blogging, but during school I left that part out of my life. I placed it on pause. However, with the summer upon me and my first week heading into the work place of New York, there is a lot of change to be coming in my life. The relaunch of my blog, will follow, because I have so much to share

Thankful.

’tis the season to take a step back and view what it is you should show gratitude for. 

I will always gravitate towards a selfless ideal in order to recognize that so many individuals deserved to be thanked in my life. I am thankful that my parents who continue to show myself and my brother unconditional love in our daily lives. I am thankful for my friends, new and old, who continue to share laughs and smiles no matter the distance between us.

I am thankful for the opportunities that have been presented to me. I am thankful for my health, although I have been quite under the weather for some time, as per usual. I am thankful that the world is still turning through all the sadness and disasters that have shaken it a bit. I am thankful that I have been able to travel and view even more of this beautiful Earth this year.

What I need most this year though is to be thankful for myself and be selfish for a change. Self-love does not get enough attention, and I am thankful that this month I have made even more strides in the direction of loving who it is that I am. I have struggled recently with what it is that I love about myself. I lost parts of myself and I tried relentlessly to gain a sense of wholeness for far too long.

Except there are parts of me that will remain changed and different and I have become mindful of that. I see what it is that I “need”, and how what I “want” should follow second so I can achieve what is the most important to have in life.

I have set my little goals and my mental and physical health have improved tenfold. I have limited the toxic activities and focused on the positivity. There are boundaries I have mapped out and I am protecting myself in ways I truly deserve.

Finally, I am thankful that I can forgive myself.

For a moment I felt like I deserved less, that I would give myself for less, and that the credit I deserved should be lessened. I weakened myself to fit the mold that is too small for me. My heart continued to overflow as I tried to shrink.

I have one life with these two feet below me, and I should be living as intentionally as I can. So when I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t hate that I looked and saw someone less than what it is I am, I forgive myself and know there is so much more to who I am.

I may have made mistakes, I may not have received the best criticism, I may have not taken myself out of negative situations fast enough, but I forgive myself. I know there is a strength that comes with recognizing that. I have spent my time feeling the lows, and now I will give myself the time to build towards the highs.

I am thankful that there is an internal strength inside of me and thankful for all of those who have been there for me throughout it all.

 

 

 

Where have I been?

When I set out to start this blog I had the expectation of writing weekly, if not bi-weekly. This goal should have been something I could have met with such ease. So much of my free time remained consumed with words whirling around my mind until they are formulated into sentences.

However, life hit me in a way I could not have prepared for. At the core of it all, my lack of writing meant a lack of processing. There needs to be a shift. The months have passed me with incredible speed. I stand here, a few weeks from yet another month, and see that there needs to be changed with my writing and prioritizing it.

I silenced myself. I lived in this fear that was to come from all of the change. My last post was a reflection, the one before it? The same. Except these past three months have been more than just a reflection on the past, I have grown.

I moved to New York. I started graduate school at New York University. I have traveled, explored, and seen. I have experienced, learned, and understood. I have grappled with a community, friendship, and love. Everything is new—relationships, conversations, desires— no day is ever the same as the last. Under it all, I have burned. The roots have been scorched, blackened by pain and hurt and from that, I have had a bud emerge.

The past has happened, I cannot change it. I can lie in the dirt that was dug up for me, or I can rise to the occasion that they fear. I have even more in the upcoming year to truly look back on, but I need to catch myself before more and more clouds up my mental state. I created this blog to rewind on my past, yes, but unwind was added for times like this.

So, the answer will remain: I have been living. I have sought positivity with the negatives and I have shown there is no depth scary enough that my soul will not venture to. There is a resilience to me that seems to come out, and the stories from experiences continue to flow. Stay tuned for all that has come into focus while I have been away.

 

 

17 August 2016

I would like to insist that life is accompanied by a user manual. That way our birth certificates can be bound with all of the experiences we could encounter in life. So as we transition we can recognize them while they happen. Love is a verb I struggled to define before I really experienced it romantically.

I came home to my roommate a year ago today and asked when she knew she was in love with her partner. It was deep into their relationship for her, and here I was just two weeks into getting to know a man who had already confessed his love for me and I was thinking I really loved him.

He hit me with a foul ball plummeting from a universe I was so unaware of. I was ready for him to open up about something difficult when he asked me if he could tell me something without me freaking out, but I couldn’t prepare for the feelings he unleashed. I read the words everyone who has had a crush wants to see, hear, and feel. A man loves me!!! He loves me, yet I froze. So much had happened two days prior and our future felt futile, yet there I was thinking about moving away and falling in love. simultaneously.

I stared down those three words—8 letters—a simple construction of subjects and verb to which I was instantly filled with a pulse of electricity. It radiated from my heart down to my fingers and toes as I read them over and over. When it fell into my stomach the upheaval of emotions I suppressed for most of my life twisted at my innards. They were emotions I had never felt at this intensity and I was nervous.

He overwhelmed me.

My thoughts thrashed violently around my head. I had no idea what I was doing.

ABORT! ABORT! ABORT! 

He left me speechless, so that was what I responded with:

“You and making me speechless.”

“Is that bad?”

“No”

Then he started backtracking & attempting to explain himself. I felt like he was filling with anxiety because at that exact moment those words were too heavy for me to throw back in his direction. I began to get anxious. I was so unsure what it was that I felt because I didn’t have my user manual handy. 

Is that what love is? Feeling lighter than air as you float to the heavens while you simultaneously feel a magnet’s pull, that surpasses a human’s tolerance of g-forces, towards another soul? That you want to black out and throw up from the effects love has on the body? Is love a drug that forced its way into my bloodstream? I was scared to simplify it a year ago, but today I know that was how I first felt our love.

It grew to become something I needed. Soon it just became happiness. It filled me and my days with incredible thoughts. I walked around knowing someone loved me. I barely understood affection before him; hugs and kisses, romance, and the meaning I put to love were all different before him. I stepped into this world and had no intention of leaving. I spent my days telling him what I could not put into words a year ago.

Now I feel empty.

I freely share a love with all. The want to radiate it outwards comes naturally to me. However, this love came at a different rate for him. This love knew no depth—it knew only of infinite goals. This love poured out of me for him. I am yet to find the shut-off valve; I bust at the seems and let it flow from my eyes as I forcibly hide it each day. I feel constrained to only suppress it now. That I have no choice but to bury it alone in the darkness when all I want is to let it free. I am compromising for him.

I spoke to him on the phone a while ago and I said it again. I told him I loved him a month after he broke up me. He said nothing except that he doesn’t know what to say to “that”. Life came full circle. I blurted it out like he did a year ago and like me, he didn’t say it back. I never said it to hear it back when we were together, and I didn’t say it that day to change his mind. I just know I can’t spend my life pretending that I am okay with what we are now.

I feel like a liar if I did. 

Stormy Saturday in Savannah

Before and after the flooding waters came and washed us inside.

The word still haunts me.

 

11 August 2016

I have been known to go the extra mile throughout my journey. Whether it be in my education, relationships, or daily tasks, I have gone further and would continue to seek an above and beyond mentality to better my days where I could. However, I tended to exhibit perfectionist ideals while I strongly believed there was something more I could do, or do differently, because of the extra mile I was and am willing to walk.

I have learned to not let that ideal weigh heavy on me. I am aware that I do not have to be, nor will I ever truly achieve perfection. I have settled with unperfected pieces in school and life even if I shouldn’t have. I allowed first drafts to be seen and I did so to protect myself and my mental state from wavering under the pressure. By doing that, I allowed for mishaps in order to lessen the outcome of stress and have grown in a new direction.

I internalized the bad grades and worked at time management and performance in academics to excel. I noticed where my efforts were needed more and where they could falter a bit for balance and cohesion in life. I became selective with the company I kept. From the imperfections, I saw my strengths and weaknesses under a spotlight and I became a better person because of the lessons I learned.

A year ago today, I was given a lesson on my heart. It was different from the lessons that I became accustomed to. I had not hoped to learn a lesson from it, rather learn and grow with it. I laid the foundation that provided me a way to strengthen my needs, desires, and feelings. I was making sure they were met first by myself and then through others, I had relationships with. I was not aiming to perfect this, but not half-ass it in a way that I had been previously.

I openly discovered parts of myself that had been left overlooked. I used to neglect my needs and did not put enough effort into what made me the happiest. I had a voice, and I used it occasionally, but I also had an internal sense that spoke to my hopes and desires, and I finally had no choice but to listen to it a year ago.

There were often times in the past where I subconsciously did not settle for “unperfected pieces” when it came to partners because internally something felt off. I did not know it at the time, but I was able to keep myself at a distance from them and protected my heart doing so. Together, I and another played Operation and we found the points that made me buzz. Finally, there was someone who encompassed more than what I could have ever expected to find because I found what I deserved with him. 

I literally drove the extra miles to have a chance at this evening, but never could I have dreamt its outcome when we planned the trip. In turn, I left no distance between our souls and by doing that, I found myself. I began to understand why I overlooked everyone else before this moment. I learned why I walked away so often, and I did not question why I felt my feet beginning to firmly cement down. He was not perfect, but he was doing a damn good job at making me feel incredible about who I was.

I still am learning from this evening a year later. I am more in tune with my needs in all variants of relationships I encounter. I have been told to remain single until someone who completely cherishes my compassion comes along. To find someone who regards my intuitive side as a strength and where my care-taker abilities are not exploited. This night I felt thoroughly cared for. I felt an unsurpassable passion then and he was emotional enough to validate me in ways I needed. I stayed single until I met him, and it made all the difference in understanding my heart.

New Home, New York

I have been going through so many life changes that it has been rather difficult to catch my breath. When my plane flew over the New York skyscrapers and I looked down over the possibility of my new home my breath escaped me, except it wasn’t taking my breath away in a good way.

Excitement jumps for joy inside of me when it comes to adventure, but then for once, I was worried this was going to be a mistake. I fell a victim to it. I fell to the anxiety that was: I have two days, if that, to find a home in a city I have only previously spent 72 hours in. Not only was I worried, but I was utterly terrified that I was going to step off the plane onto the jetway and combust.

I have moved just a few times in my life. Naples, Florida is where I resided in for nearly eighteen years. It was the only home I knew for so long, but I was so ready to find myself elsewhere. I moved to Boulder, Colorado, the Patagonia Disneyland of the West for college and took my home to an all-time high (elevation that is).

I left the mountains and moved to gain a broken British accent while living in London, England. I felt like I would never live anywhere except London. I found myself there more than I ever did in Boulder or Naples. I shed all my imperfections and strengthened myself and views the world so vastly in such a short amount of time.  I was spinning all my grad school gears towards the United Kingdom.

I fell in love and that changed things. I always felt my parents holding onto my invisible reigns, but they would have always let go so I could follow my heart to the U.K. I started to see how hard it would be to live abroad and stay abroad due to immigration laws. As I was realizing that, I was finding what I loved in my own home again.

I would have never thrown away my dreams to be with him just as I would have never hoped he would do the same for me, but I was swayed most likely subconsciously to stay close to what I loved here. I started looking back at the school I looked at originally for my parents, but now it wasn’t to humor them but to see if I could find myself once more in a new city here. I was ecstatic that NYU admitted me into their program.

I was envisioning how much I would grow and how excited I would be to have everyone come to the city and stay in my cozy East Village apartment. When I walked around New York I was reminded of that, but I was overwhelmed. I watched too many Friends leading up, and my apartment views were slightly skewed. They are smaller than Monica’s Mansion.

I have to say its so important to trust your gut. I may have stayed in America for tons of different reasons, and I may have lost sight of them when I felt weakened by apartment viewings. I knew I loved my apartment before I viewed it. I saw other places, too many places, but nothing compared. I am grateful that it didn’t slip through my fingers like it could have. It was an experience none the less.

When they say 70-90% sure on the apartment is enough they mean it. This is what I found helped me not find 100%:

• Research before and find the median prices and keep an eye out for what is for sale.
• Go in with a price range, but expect to change it.
• Breath. Between. Viewing. They may be short, but don’t hold your breath.
• Figure what you need and know where you can and cannot compromise
• Research the building, there is a difference between 4 complaints and 400.
• Brooker fees suck, but sometimes fee-less apartments suck more.
• Love the area, you are going to be spending time walking there.
• Envision yourself in there, if you can’t, move on.
• Have all your paperwork ready or readily available.
• Apply when you know and don’t let doubt prolong the situation.