My Always

Sometimes they don't know me

But it seems you always do

Even when the fog becomes 

Too thick for me to see through 

Sometimes I am lost

Can't seem to find my way

But you always pull me back

Even when there's nothing left to say

When the words just can't describe 

How the world makes me feel numb

Remember how much you mean to me

How strong that we've become

Because your love never falters

Even when my mind feels dark

For that's when the stars shine brightest:

Hopeful night walks in our park 

I know we can conquer anything

We will overcome any strife 

To be your missing puzzle piece

Brings such meaning to my life

You inspire me every day

You help me see through the haze

I am so grateful for you

My strength. My heart. 

My Always

Family

It seems family and specifically parents have been a big topic of conversation among my friends and family lately. "Blood is thicker than water" goes the old saying. My mom's side of the family is Italian, so I've grown up with the notion that loyalty to family is not only healthy, but expected. (Not in a Mafia-esque way, but you know. :-P) My dad's side of the family is no stranger to the significance of family either. Growing up, I looked forward to big family get-togethers, mostly because I had such a blast playing with my cousins (One of my cousins even became a best friend too. :)) and loved seeing my grandparents. There was an anticipation for the snacks, crafts, and games that awaited us every time we visited. It felt special to visit with family. I felt loved and safe with them. There is often an atmosphere of magic for kids when they are with their family. 

On a related note, I believe that our culture often doesn't place a great enough emphasis on the aging population. We tend to practically discard loved ones who aren't healthy or happy, because it depresses us to be around them. It reminds us of our own immortality to watch our grandparents and parents experience numerous health problems as they grow older. 

However, if we look past the ailments of those much older than us, we often find an opportunity to bond with some truly incredible people. In my experience, I always enjoyed watching my Nonna's passion for cooking for others and playing games with my grandparents. I still enjoy the company of Brandon's ever-sassy grandpa who has a wonderful sense of humor. I love the wisdom my dad often shares with me. I admire how my mom's age has allowed her to grow a sense of courage and confidence that I hope to one day exude myself. Essentially, I believe there is much to learn from family members who have "been there, done that."

I also admire the loyalty and dependability that family often provides. The cliche that they love you unconditionally is often very true. Because of this, we often feel safe and like we can be ourselves around our families. It is comforting to share so many of the same perspectives, memories, and morals. 

Nowadays, I view family a little differently. Perhaps my definition of it has changed. But I also see a reoccurring issue that I feel like many people deny even exists. We tend to glorify our parents and other family members simply because of how they are related to us. Again, I'm not trying to say that family isn't a huge blessing. But these people in our families are human nonetheless. 

It is wonderful to have role models. Positive parenting can lead the next generation to be more loving, accepting, and brave. Where the situation gets questionable is when someone wants to be exactly like their parents, regardless of how their parents might exhibit some unhealthy patterns. Blind admiration without evaluation of someone's actions can be destructive and even downright dangerous. While parents should be appreciated and respected, that doesn't mean that we should desire to emulate their every choice or excuse their actions regardless of consequences. When we forget that our parents are flawed, we accidentally gravitate towards a damaging viewpoint that our parents should be imitated in all ways. 

As adults, we should now be able to question our family's negative decisions while simultaneously desiring to continue their positive qualities. It doesn't mean that we love them any less or that we are being too judgmental. It means that we are thinking for ourselves and becoming individuals. When we are able to stop viewing family as super heroes, we are able to admire them without putting them on a pedestal. 

While I understand that there is something powerful about loving someone regardless of their choices, there is a huge difference between love and apathy (I could write a whole post on that topic, but maybe another time. :-P) If my family does something to hurt themselves or others, you better believe that I'm not just going to ignore it. Of course, I will always forgive them and always see the best in them. I want the people I love to know that I'm there for them, yet also understand that I love them enough to be honest with them. I respect myself enough to tell them the truth. I care enough to encourage them to be the best versions of themselves, even when that isn't easy. 

At this point in my life, my close friends have become my family too. I often lean on them for support and advice. They sometimes know me better than I know myself. I trust that they love me unconditionally as well. I respect them regardless of imperfections and realize that their flaws are a part of who they are. I don't put them on a pedestal, and I think our friendships are stronger as a result. 

Family is one of life's most incredible blessings. This gift can be enjoyed to the fullest when we respect others for who they are, while still encouraging them to grow. After all, we are all just human.  

People Change People

It's pretty obvious to recognize that the company we keep and the situations we find ourselves in constantly impact who we are. I probably have nothing ground-breaking to say on the topic, but I told myself that I wouldn't let that hold me back from exploring my thoughts with writing. Besides, I have found that writing about other topics when I have something else on my mind can lead me to feeling distracted. There'll be plenty of time for me to pursue other writing topics. (Which, by the way, my prompt idea list has been growing!)

Mentoring with Big Brother Big Sisters has had me reflecting more lately about the way our environment and the social influences in our lives hold so much power over us. Sometimes we don't recognize how impactful something we take for granted- such as our neighborhood or the people in our lives- can be when we're growing up.

In the case of my experience growing up with my family, we weren't lacking when it came to many comforts. It wasn't until I was older that I recognized how blessed we were. I had food on the table, good friends in our neighborhood, a spacious park to escape to right across the street from our home, and many friendly neighbors that allowed us to feel safe exploring the neighborhood on our bikes. I never found myself mixed up with trouble of any kind, (unless my sister and I were fighting over something dumb, but that is typical. :-P) and the people I surrounded myself with were generally caring friends. So many of my needs were met, and because of that I was able to focus on school work, social activities, and finding out who I was as a person.

According to Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs theory, we are only empowered to pursue higher needs once we have satisfied our more basic needs (shown starting at the bottom of the pyramid.) Essentially, we will only be motivated to seek higher aspirations once we are no longer preoccupied with the more basic needs that take precedence over them.

In my case, most of the time growing up I was able to focus on the "Esteem" tier, because my needs of food, security, friendship, and family were all met. I felt comfortable enough to focus on building my confidence and pursuing achievements because I wasn't worried about meeting those more primal needs.

Unfortunately, in the case of our Little Brother, he has not been so fortunate growing up. He has not always felt like he had enough food to eat, felt safe in his neighborhood, or felt like he can simply rely on family or good friends. If he has been stuck worrying about his physiological or safety needs, it seems like it would be a big leap for him to suddenly focus on building his self-esteem.

One goal of Big Brothers Big Sisters is to help Little Brothers' and Sisters' families find ways to meet their physiological and safety needs so that mentors can empower Littles to see the importance of the higher aspiration tiers. When Littles are in the program for long enough, some self-actualization could even be explored with their mentors.

The way our lives turn out is connected to so many different factors, so it would be oversimplifying to assume that our environments single-handedly make us into the people we are today. However, throughout my education in psychology and counseling, I have consistently been taught that there is a familiar shared theory that our circumstances significantly impact our choices and ultimately, who we become. Numerous experiments have been devoted to exploring the notion that placed within the same situation, in the same environment, or amidst the same people, most typical individuals behave similarly regardless of  personality, upbringing, socioeconomic status, gender, race, etc.

If this is indeed the case, then when it is within our power, we truly ought to devote more energy ensuring that we put ourselves in positive, safe, encouraging environments in order to pursue the best versions of ourselves.

While we may not always be able to control our environment when it comes to our living arrangements, family, neighbors, or work environment, one huge part of our lives we are in control of is the company we keep. For me, my family and friends have played a very significant role in my confidence and my growth as a person. As cheesy as it sounds, as I get older, I recognize how valuable it is to have those people in my life who support my goals, love me unconditionally, and push me to be my best.

Especially when we are younger, friendships can often become toxic without us realizing it. It is all too easy for relationships to become one-sided or unhealthy when we genuinely care about others and want to be loyal to them. For me, it has been a long journey of recognizing when a friendship has crossed a line to become a draining relationship rather than a healthy one. There have been a few instances where I have learned the hard way that allowing some space between myself and someone who brings me down has actually been a better choice for my mental health in the long run.

And while I can't say that I don't miss some of those old friends from time to time, I recognize that I am better off focusing my energy on those who build me up and who see the goodness in me even when I it becomes challenging for me to see it myself. I am truly grateful for those people who have encouraged me to just be myself, to set my goals high, and to continue pursuing happiness and meaning.

It is my hope that Brandon and I can be a little glimmer of hope and empowerment for our Little Brother. We may not be able to change all his circumstances or fix his problems, but I truly do believe that often times people have more influence over our lives than does our environment. Schools, homes, and neighborhoods all change. But true friendship and love withstand the tests of time, distance, and change.

As the wise Corey Matthews simply put it, one secret to life is that "people change people." (You knew I'd need to get at least one Boy Meets World reference in here at some point. ;))  With that mentality, we should all try our best to be the type of people who empower others, see the best in them, and help them to reach their highest aspirations. 

High-Functioning Anxiety and Depression

I've been debating about tackling this topic, but I've felt overwhelmed at the idea of attempting to describe something that I've already failed to capture so many times. I know my loved ones care and want to understand, but it's so frustrating when I feel like I'm incapable of fully depicting my struggle. If this isn't of interest to you or if it's too much to read, ( After writing this, I considered changing the title of this post to include a colon and "A Short Autobiography. :-P) please know that I won't be hurt if you don't participate in this post. Primarily, I want this to be for me. I want to feel more liberated from the stigma and to feel empowered to be honest.

 But, if after reading this, others understand even just a little better or feel encouraged to reach out to their loved ones more, writing this will be worth it. If this encourages others to understand their loved ones who may struggle with something similar, that would be wonderful too. I'm not saying that everyone's journey is the same, because that couldn't be further from the truth. But I'll share my story in hopes that if others relate, they'll know that they're not alone.

For me, my anxiety tends to gravitate towards a more social anxiety or an anxiety about perfection or control. Countless times I've obsessed over the idea that I'm not good enough. I always think I should be doing more to be a good wife, friend, daughter, sister, etc. I often fear appearing unintelligent, inadequate, or like I don't belong. I have an irrational fear of abandonment and criticism, so I often obsess over unintentionally pushing others away or not being good enough. I obsessively replay conversations over and over in my mind, attempting to convince myself that whatever stupid thing I said wasn't actually a big deal. (I tend to lose that battle.)  Being around people I'm not comfortable with can be incredibly anxiety-provoking, because I'm constantly imagining what everyone is feeling or thinking.  Of course, I tend to assume that it's the worst case scenario, when in reality, people don't actually hate me for saying something stupid or for making a mistake. Regardless, I feel like I'm walking on egg shells, because I am terrified of messing up. Sometimes anxious feelings lead me to dread leaving the house or going somewhere unfamiliar. I often feel out of control when I don't know what's going on or when plans change unexpectedly. When I know what to expect, I feel much more relaxed. But even then sometimes the anxious thoughts still find a way to trickle in.

At times, it honestly can be crippling. Imagine having about a thousand terrifying windows browsers each featuring one of your worst fears open at the same time. You want to close some of the browsers so that you can at least focus on even just one fear at a time. That would make the worry something you can conquer. Now imagine feeling fearful about not just needing to close each horrifying tab one by one, but also about not knowing what order to close them all in... It's time-consuming and shouldn't matter, but when I'm in an extreme anxious state, it's challenging to think straight and to make decisions.

It feels like a light has been turned on in my mind, and no matter how hard I try, no matter how far away I run, I can't turn it off or get to a safe point where the light isn't blinding me. There's no reason for the light to be on- in fact, there's not even a light switch- so it's maddening trying to figure out how to turn it off. Let alone what caused it to turn on in the first place!

Besides the physical symptoms of aches, nausea, and breathing issues , anxiety can make it feel impossible to do something that I'd love to do if I were in a more stable frame of mind. It makes it more challenging to do the simplest task when I'm obsessing over worst case scenarios, especially when I know that they aren't realistic. I recognize that all these things I do are irrational, and most the time even when I'm feeling that way in the moment, I can recognize it as well.

However, as much as I wish it was true, it's not just something I can "snap out of" when I realize it's not logical. So many loved ones have attempted to console me using rational thinking. I realize it's tough to understand, but that doesn't help because anxiety is not rational. Don't you think that if I could will it all to go away, I would have by this point?

People ask me why I just can't "let it go." (Cue the Frozen music. ;)) Because of the anxious thoughts, it just isn't that simple. I fixate on even the most insignificant details without knowing why and certainly without even wanting to. Tiny details that don't matter to anyone else become impossible to move past for me. For some reason, my mind gets stuck on whatever thought and it is a real challenge for me to convince my brain that it's time to move on. A typical mind has little trouble identifying a negative thought as irrational. But for some reason, my mind tends to latch on to unhealthy ideas without me wanting it to.

I've been told on many occasions that I'm really good at hiding what I'm feeling. On the surface, it looks like I'm confident, happy, and like I have everything together. On the inside, at that very same moment, I might be screaming at my racing thoughts to stop or trying to convince myself that I'm good enough. Most the time, people can't tell when I'm feeling depressed or when I'm obsessively anxious about something unless I tell them. I've had bosses and professors tell me that I appear confident and professional, only for them to be shocked when I admit that I was doubting if I could even perform the job that needed to be done.

And sometimes the anxiety does create an illusion to convince others that it's not even an illness. Perhaps partially in thanks to my anxiety, I am exceptionally organized and attentive to detail. I am very responsible and reliable as a result as well. I am commited and honor schedules well. I push myself to the point of utter exhaustion because I have a drive to constantly do my best. Probably the most positive aspect is that my anxious tendencies have encouraged me to be exceptionally empathetic and compassionate. All of those aspects can easily fool others into thinking it's not even an issue.

Sometimes the anxiety is so draining that I welcome the depression that often accompanies it afterward. Somehow doubting the meaning of my existence is preferable to the highly exhausting feeling of helplessness I feel when I get into a very anxious state of mind.

Even back in elementary school, I struggled with feelings of anxiety and depression. At the time, I didn't label it as such. This was mostly due to the fact that I didn't realize mental illness even existed. From the outside, I looked like a was a high-functioning kid. I earned excellent grades, (Nathan, if you're reading this, I actually just laughed out loud as I almost subconsciously typed, "really good grades."). I was involved in numerous after-school clubs. I had a close-knit group of friends. I was typically busy with social activities. I actually typically got along with my parents. I was respectful. I was cheerful. I looked like I was an over-achieving, polite, social young girl. From the outside, I looked "normal."

But I definitely didn't feel "normal." I couldn't understand how others were always so seemingly happy without a care in the world. They were kids, so why shouldn't they be? But I wasn't like that. Most days I realized I was either inexplicably nervous or inexplicably sad. I didn't understand why I'd often find myself feeling sick to my stomach because I was so worried about nothing rational. Why I had certain rituals that I couldn't break, because if I did, I feared something catastrophic would happen. Why I'd find myself crying alone uncontrollably in my room, too afraid to talk to someone because I didn't understand why I was feeling that way. (I'd later recognize that the reason for that was because I was experiencing  an inevitable crash of depression after an exhausting fit of anxiety.) I continued the cycle of feeling physically tense, sick, and fearful while I just couldn't sit still or focus. Then the feelings of emptiness would consume me. I wondered why I felt so hopeless, worthless, and drained.

I frequently felt alone, even when I knew I had people who cared about me. The few times I did try to open up to my friends, I recognized instantly that I was different. They dismissed my worries as just that--- worries. They didn't understand how it made me physically sick if I didn't check my homework folder 8 times on the way to school to insure that I had everything I needed that day.  They smiled when I shared I was terrified to order food at a restaurant, make a phone call, or raise my hand in class. They chalked up how often I randomly broke down crying to the fact that I was "nice and emotional." At any attempt I made to explain the struggle more in detail, they dismissed the severity of my feelings all the more. "We all have bad days." "We all worry sometimes." "It's ok to be sad!" Sure, they were right. But they didn't realize the emotional toll it was taking on me to continue alternating between periods of obsessive worrying to moments of complete despair.

Of course, they were kids. They didn't have any better of an understanding of what was going on than I did. My parents grew up in a generation where mental health issues were not understood or even widely accepted, so I recognize that they didn't realize what was going on either. Besides, I also typically hid how I was struggling. So to be clear, I'm not blaming anyone for my experience.

Although, now seems like the perfect time for me to express how important it is to teach kids about mental illness at a young age. My interning experiences have allowed me to witness some pretty amazing students teaching other students about the risk factors and warning signs of depression and other mental illnesses. In addition, it would be invaluable for parents to learn how to better recognize warning signs in their children. In countless psych/counseling classes I've taken over the years, my professors have emphasized the significance of how mental health issues can be tackled by early detection and prevention. On a positive note, it has been incredibly hopeful for me to see how more schools are becoming pro-active when it comes to supporting their students' mental health needs in addition to their academic ones.  Times are changing. It's heart-warming to see how others are becoming more empowering and loving when it comes  helping those struggling with mental illness.

As I grew up, the anxiety and depression followed me. It started to worsen in middle school, as I wasn't handling all the changes so well. Two of my best friends moved, and my other close friends weren't in the same classes as me. I felt even more alone. I began to obsess even more over homework, grades, clubs, etc. But once again, no one questions if the involved, caring, straight-A Honors student is struggling.  So I continued to hide what I was going through and I did my best to act like nothing was wrong.

In high school, I felt a brief improvement in my mental health, mostly thanks to the fact that some of my friends started to care about me on a deeper level. I had a handful of good friends who I felt like I could open up to. Even if they didn't fully grasp what I was going through, I still felt like I could sometimes be honest about how I was feeling. It was definitely an improvement. I was so busy with activities and clubs that I didn't feel like the darkness was consuming me as often.

Unfortunately, senior year was especially rough. I was obsessed with worrying about choosing the right college, my friends going off to different schools, finding out who I was, etc. A big time of change, growth, and decision-making led me to feel even more anxious.

Freshman year at UD  continued to prove challenging. It was one of the lowest points of my depression, because it seemed like everyone else was so happy. They were excited to be away from home, meeting new people, trying new things. But I was terrified. I felt more alone than I ever had. I missed my friends and felt like I had to start over with a group of people I didn't genuinely connect with. I felt abandoned and didn't know what I was doing. I felt like I was on display and that others can all see through me. They knew I didn't belong and that I wasn't like them. I did my best to stay honest with my feelings, to reach out to others, and to journal my feelings more often. I poured myself into my classes. During an academic check-in, my adviser (my current boss) noted that I earned my first and only B- in one class. She assumed it was just a challenging course. But at the time, I just honestly didn't care any more. Probably as a defense mechanism-  I started to harden emotionally. I wasn't feeling so nervous or down, but if I'm completely honest, I wasn't feeling much of anything at all. I was on the track of living life just going through the motions.

Fast-forward to 2010. It was such a big year for me, and I can't confidently tell you why everything happened the way it did. But slowly I had started feeling more confident in some of my classes and at work. Although I didn't have any close friends on campus, I had a couple good ones and really enjoyed working with the teachers and kids at the Bombeck Center. Overall, I found more joy and fulfillment than I had in years. Slowly I stopped pretending to be something that I wasn't. When UD friends asked me for the thousandth time if I wanted to come party with them, I admitted that it just wasn't for me. I stopped obsessing so much about what others thought of me and I stopped allowing myself to get drawn into the drama of some friends.  I started to focus more energy on friendships that were more two-sided and who built me up rather than encouraged me to doubt myself.

That summer was a big turning point for me. I don't want to get all cheesy and say that my family, my friends and specifically Brandon saved me, but it's true. I started feeling like others genuinely cared about me and like I had more to offer the world. My friends saw goodness and potential in me, and their encouragement really made a difference. I reached out more and wanted to be more connected. I felt empowered and confident for the first time in years.

Then... Grad school. Ugh, I'm not sure how this turned into an annoying autobiography, but I'll press on, I suppose. :-P Not because I want to rehash this, but because I think it's important for me to talk about it. In a nut shell, UC was two of the most challenging years of my life. Not academically by any means, but mentally and emotionally. Originally, I was filled with zeal and confidence for earning my Masters. I felt like I was on the perfect track for earning a degree that would allow me to make a difference in a unique way.

But my excitement quickly dwindled.  I was surrounded by negativity, competitive comparison, and frankly, incompetence. My professors were unqualified for our Masters program and they just simply didn't care either. The toxic environment was contagious. My fellow cohort members (who I shared every single class with) were often self-involved, shallow, and uncaring. I felt so out of my element and disconnected. I felt disheartened, under-stimulated intellectually, and more anxious than I could remember.

After two years of daily anxiety and depressed thoughts, I couldn't find a job in the counseling field. I felt like a failure, and I was devastated that I had wasted two years of my life for nothing,  Soon, I was offered an opportunity to sub as a counselor for a few months. I was shattered even more when I realized that it wasn't as fulfilling as I'd hoped. The bitter sweet reality was that I wasn't a professional counselor for very long!

I found myself lost in a sea of regrets, doubts, and resentment. I dreaded "catching up" with certain friends and family members, because they consistently asked: "Did you find a job in your field yet?" or even worse: "What are you doing with your life?" I began defining myself by my job (or lack thereof). All the blessings in my life seemed tainted because the depressed thoughts were drowning them out. I felt worthless and like I wasn't making a difference. I didn't see the point of doing something else if it wasn't my original plan. Even though I rationally recognized how blessed I was and that I could make a difference even if I wasn't in the counseling field, I felt lost.

And here we are. I'm not going to claim that I've "been found," but I have made progress. It hasn't been an easy journey, but through prayer, journaling, exercise, counseling and the support of people who care, I have made tremendous strides. I feel safer, because I am able to surround myself with positive people and activities. I no longer feel so out of control due to the stress of huge changes or school or work. I have a few loyal friends, a loving family, a great job, a terrific church, and a wonderful life partner who supports me in ways I didn't think someone could.

I still find myself becoming hyper-vigilant while worrying about what others think of me. I still worry that I don't make a difference or that I don't do enough to make the world a better place. I still get scared going somewhere new or talking to strangers sometimes.  I still find myself fixated with worry about irrational things for no apparent reason. I still find myself crying for no reason as well.

But on a good day, I see how I make a difference and how I am a good person. I am learning that I am not defined by a mental illness that often wreaks havoc on my mind, or my job, or how popular I am, or what I look like, or my limitations.

I am more in control now. When I experience an anxiety attack or a depressed episode, sometimes I'm even  able to convince myself that it will pass. I have better coping skills. I am less ashamed. I am braver and I push myself out of my comfort zone more.  I am encouraged. I am empowered. And I am often hopeful.

If you're reading this and ever need to talk, please know that I am here and that I care. I could never be where I am today without the support of people who love me. You are not alone.

Envy, Comparison and Social Media

In this day and age where we are constantly being bombarded with highlight reels from our friends' lives through social media, it's very easy to find ourselves feeling inadequate or lacking in our own lives. This is no new concept, so forgive me if this sounds repetitive. Still, I can't say it's not disturbing to me how many of my loved ones continue to admit to me how consuming this envy can become. Regardless of how we can rationalize that we are only seeing the most exciting and joyful posts that our friends are carefully choosing to share, it's challenging to remind ourselves that we are only viewing a very filtered reality. Once we have begun to compare our day to day lives to others' impressive accomplishments, travels, or hobbies, it is tough to fight our way out of that cycle.

Of course, I'm not necessarily advocating for everyone to constantly pour out their hearts or share every knitty gritty detail about their lives on social media. That can be incredibly draining and impersonal. Not to mention it can create a diffusion of responsibility where everyone assumes that someone else will step up to help a friend in need... When in reality, that friend in need receives little attention when others are all assuming that someone else will be there for said friend. In my experience, when I reach out to someone directly, I am always glad that I chose to do that rather than create a public post in hopes someone will reach out to me.

I have been accused of being too positive on Facebook. Although I don't want to create an illusion of being happier than I am, I also recognize that I struggle with becoming consumed by negative feelings or life events. As Facebook has became more of an online journal of positive memories I can share with my loved ones, I don't want to taint it with negative thoughts or worries. Because of this, I don't want to post something that I don't want to be reminded about every year when Facebook  shares "memories" daily with me. However, when there is a negative article concerning something important I'd like to share with others, that is certainly worth sharing, and I no longer find myself concerned with remembering that post every year.

Basically, I hope that my close loved ones know what's going on in my life between the positive things I choose to post. I am not attempting to create an illusion of being happier than I am. I realize that Facebook isn't an accurate depiction of my life either. In a more personal setting, I am more than happy to share negative aspects of my life or discuss the world in general if you want to.

On a related note, it seems like Facebook is typically a place where I can read about important news and happenings in the world, yet seconds later I can easily also quickly divert my attention to something more stomach-able and entertaining.

I don't think we often consider the ramifications of quickly scrolling through thousands of posts on a daily basis, moving quickly from one post to another when it no longer keeps our attention. There's a lack of commitment or intrigue when there are countless other things that will also grab your attention. I've read a bit of psych research about how social media may actually have the power to exacerbate mental health struggles like ADHD, but maybe I'll discuss that more in the future. I meant for this post to focus on the destructive envy and comparison that social media often fuels. Other flaws and negative impacts of social media can have their own blog entry sometime. :-P

Even with this knowledge and reflection of the negative impact of social media, I admit I've still noticed myself unintentionally becoming envious of others' happiness-- of their confidence, their families, their ability to travel, their fun jobs, their unique talents, etc. I've found myself feeling like my life didn't measure up to theirs in more ways than one. But when I've talked with those same friends who I've admitted I'm envious of, they have often admitted to me that they are envious of others or even of me.

Bottom line: envy is not rational. 

So many of us struggle with the consuming thought that we're not enough. We want to find meaning and happiness. We want others to be proud of us. We want to be proud of ourselves. These thoughts are all natural and can be admirable when they encourage us to strive to be better. But the problem occurs when try as we may, even when we accomplish something or overcome a struggle, we can't seem to stay proud for long. We're constantly thinking of ways our lives aren't perfect and ways we could be happier. This is partially because we're constantly comparing ourselves to the others surrounding us.

As cheesy as it sounds, we are all unique. We have different hearts, morals, interests, jobs, socioeconomic statuses- different life circumstances in general. Regardless of how much we may share with someone, we are all at different places in our hearts and minds. This isn't to say that it isn't powerful when we can relate to others about similar life goals or life views. But it seems illogical to assume that everyone is in such a similar place in their lives that we should all share the same accomplishments or even the same exact goals and life purpose.

So our values, social circle, resources, etc.- our basic life circumstances- all impact our choices that lead us to where we are right now. We are all on different paths. How does it even truly make sense to compare our journey to someone else's?

It's taken me a lot of time and reflection, but I am slowly starting to improve on recognizing when I am irrationally comparing myself to others and becoming envious of the positive aspects of their lives. One key is gratitude. I keep a daily gratitude journal in which each night I write down three things I'm thankful for that day. The next morning, I do my best to remember to read what I wrote the night before.

As I've done my best to focus on what I am blessed with, it's becoming easier to not get distracted by what I'm lacking. When that's not enough... when it's still on my heart that I'm missing out on something, I realize that whatever that something is, it's something that I need to start working for.

Truth be told, I'm probably never going to be an impressive world traveler, comedian, artist, writer, DJ, cake designer, musician, socialite, genius or inspiration of faith. But I'm ok with that. Because quite honestly, I don't want to be those things. Even when we don't share their exact talents, when we surround ourselves with people who inspire us to keep trying and to pursue our passions, life is so much richer.  I can share in my friends' blessings and that zeal they have for life through their unique interests and personalities. Because I can still admire others in a healthy way while still being grateful for what I have and who I am. And with some time, maybe while even admiring myself? :)

Honesty

Lately I've been thinking a lot about honesty and security with relationships. Specifically, what exactly creates a feeling of comfort around others?

For me, I always feel uneasy when I'm trying to be vulnerable with someone I want to impress or someone I'm not very close with. Maybe as a side effect of my anxiety, I tend to doubt myself and to withhold information that might make me stand out from the "norm." But sometimes I do find the courage to share something that makes me unique.  For instance, when my boss and I were working on a project together, she asked me who my favorite musician was. I'm not ashamed to consider myself a big fan of the Backstreet Boys, even if their peak of popularity was close to 20 years ago and their fan base consisted of mostly intensely obsessed teenage girls. ;) But I realize a lot of people would think that's weird. Without thinking, I joked with my boss that she probably wouldn't share my musical tastes, as I admitted my love for a 90s Boy Band. My boss just laughed and suggested another music choice. Not like I expected her to like BSB anyway, though, so I wasn't shocked.  ;)

No harm done, right? No use in worrying about sharing something so trivial that doesn't truly reflect who I am. But to me, my favorite music group can actually be a big part of who I am. Maybe for someone like me who feels so passionately about my interests, it can feel like someone is rejecting me on a deeper level when they judge those interests. It's an irrational thought, I know. But in this world where we seem so obsessed with shared experiences like enjoying the same shows, movies, music, etc. it's easy to feel disconnected when others can't relate to those interests.

The other night we were hosting a game night with some of our close friends. It was surprising to me to note that I was feeling incredibly calm and confident just being myself. After a long day of helping my boss one-on-one and making lots of small talk, I was exhausted from filtering my thoughts and behavior. As I was acting like a complete dork with my friends, the contrast was stark (Just for you, Bran.;-)). When I am with someone of "authority," (in this case, the person who authorizes my pay check) I tend to fear looking stupid or odd. I want to be trusted and respected and to make a good impression. We all do, right?

The fear of rejection is not uncommon. But at what point does my fear become irrational and hindering to connecting with someone? Anxious thoughts can often cloud my judgement and lead me to accept ideas that are not true. Rationally, I know that someone will not suddenly dislike me because I may be different. That doesn't change the fact that I tend to error on the side of being overly cautious with being vulnerable.

Back to that game night. It's obvious that we feel more secure when we're with others who love and respect us. When we're around those we're closest to, we're not so consumed about their perceptions of us, because we tend to assume that they are least sort of like us already. We obviously feel a level of comfort around them because we realize that we are already accepted by them. There's a bond between us, so we no longer have anything to prove.

I wish I felt that same level of comfort and confidence around strangers or around people who don't know me as well.

A thought that I've also been dwelling on--- how many of us feel this way? When you think about it, no one is "normal." We all have our quirks and oddities and flaws. It's what makes us lovable and unique. I wouldn't change any of the interesting qualities that make my husband my husband or make my friends who they are. I respect them entirely- weirdness and all- so why can't I do the same for myself?

The truth is, when you're vulnerable with someone, that's when you can genuinely connect with them. When you're able to share your true self and to no longer feel consumed by fear of looking weird, that's when you're able to grow closest to someone.

Here's to focusing more on not caring what others think and on being more comfortable with who I am. Weirdness and all. ;)

Feel free to share any advice or thoughts!

A Fresh Start

January 5, 2016

I am a perfectionist. I fear failure more than almost anything. 

I also struggle with pretty severe anxiety and depression at times. Because of this, I often find myself fixating on what I need to accomplish and questioning whether or not I am using my time wisely. At times, this can be crippling. However, sometimes the anxiety can actually energize me as well. I feel motivated to achieve, because I'm obsessed about what others think about me. Or I'm focused on how terrible I'll feel if I don't reach the (sometimes impossible) goals I set for myself.

Then without notice, the depression crashes over  me.  I can suddenly find myself resenting my choices and feeling defeated all within a few short moments. Maybe in the future I'll attempt to describe this roller coaster in detail. For now, simply put: it's exhausting. 

Combine these factors with the fact that I also find my schedule much more hectic than I once did, and it's a recipe for all kinds of excuses to not try when something pushes me out of my comfort zone. 

I used to write much more often. May it be journaling, songs, stories, etc.  Somewhere along the line I started getting hung up on no longer feeling the same creative spark I once admired in myself. A few years ago, I found myself caught up in the fear that I had nothing original to say or that I was simply pressuring myself to write. Unfortunately, I lost the joy I once experienced in writing, and so I stopped encouraging myself to try. 

I've been reflecting more about my mental health and who I want to become. For a few months now I've been feeling a creative pull again. I've been keeping ever-growing lists of story ideas, but every time I've attempted to pursue a thought, I find myself feeling drained before I even really begin.

It is my hope that I can attempt to write some short blogs- potentially just ramblings and random sharings- in order to get myself excited about writing again. I'd love to arrive at a place where I'm no longer so terrified of failure or of what others think of me. 

I've always been resistant of change- even when it is a potentially positive change. 

But I am trying my best to let go of the past and to fully embrace the idea of positively impacting my life now. 

Any thoughts, advice, or motivation for writing would be greatly appreciated!