Sometimes you have to put yourself first or you'll always come last

Hello!! Hello....hi....
I've been gone. A very very long time. I've thought about my blog over and over again but I have been going through a jumble of emotions in my absence and had this weird kind of anxious writer's block so I just had no motivation or energy to write.
Basically....and without sharing every single thing that has happened over the last **mumbled number cause it's grossly high** months, my life has been super busy and chaotic and in the process of change.
I've actually tried like five times to write a blog post. Seriously, I have five drafts of half written posts about various different things, but I never followed through on posting them.
And then there was that nagging little voice I like to call my anxiety that would whisper "nobodyyyyy cares" or "don't botherrrr, seriously nobody caresssss" so that was holding me back too. (I feel I should clarify that those are actually just my internal thoughts and that I don't hear voices)
However, I'm currently sitting down with a cup of coffee and a candle burning and I'm finally (finally!) feeling like myself again. A miracle, I say!

I don't even know where to start right now, my mind is racing a mile a minute because I have so much that I want to say it before I forget or get too anxious to share it.
Since the last time I posted, a lot of things have happened.
I finished two semesters of post grad school, which means I'm done the entire program! I cannot believe a whole year went by and in that time I've gotten so much experience, learned a ton of things, and met so many amazing people (who will now just be distant memories in my heart because that's just how life goes).
During my summer semester, I got chosen to be Editor-in-Chief of my school's news website (well ok...first I was Managing Editor, which is still like, a high honour but then our EIC got a job and left so I got "promoted"). It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life, super exhausting (8-10 hour days) but made me feel so happy and satisfied.
Then I had an internship I was supposed to start in June and they contacted me and told me they were shutting down and could no longer offer me it....three days before my start date. I loved that part. Really not nerve wracking, and did not make my life feel upside down. But c'est la vie. Two months later (after a lot of rejection emails) (rip self esteem), I finally found another internship that I started earlier this month and I really really enjoy it. (I'm currently procrastinating work I need to do for that by writing this post, sos)
I never realized how cool a partially work from home job would be until I started doing it. I only go into the office once or twice a week, otherwise I send most of my "professional" emails from my bed in my pyjamas.
Within my first shift at my internship, I already felt so welcomed and valued. It was such a refreshing and awesome feeling. Even the little busy work I do is enjoyable because I know that in a few weeks all my little tasks will add up and contribute to the publication of a magazine and my name will be in it! It's such a cool feeling.

So...yeah. I've been busy. During my summer semester I did four days of school and four days of work and if you do the math, that equals eight and there is not eight days in a week, so that means that I'm exhausted!!
At first, I really enjoyed the go go go life, it kept me occupied and on my feet, and I felt like I wasn't wasting away my summer days.
But then I realized how many months had gone by since I've written any blog posts, or even picked up a book to read. That's not like me. At my core, one of my biggest passions in life (besides like, french fries and puppies) is writing. And I totally stopped.
I wanted to believe that it was because I was so busy. I had one, maybe two days a week off and on those days I either had cleaning to do or errands to run, or just wanted to lie in bed like a potato and that's essentially why I stopped doing things I love.
But then you do it over and over, week after week, and "I'm just too busy or tired or xyz" becomes "I just don't feel passionate about this anymore" or "I have no motivation" and it's not very good.
I've never considered myself an aspirational person until about last year when I found myself daydreaming about the day my own book comes out, or being Editor-in-Chief of a renowned magazine, or...just having a job where I can write from home in my pyjamas.
So, I need to keep that passion. I can't just suppress it because I don't have the time or energy, but I can't create time when I genuinely have none, and I can't build up energy unless I take the time to rest.
What I thought was me keeping myself super occupied, running around from school to work to bed to work to hanging out with friends to bed to internship, and so on...really just became me living a life that I wasn't really enjoying.
It really hit me when I sat down and thought about the last time I felt genuinely excited to do something, and I realized....I couldn't remember.
Nothing excited me anymore, nothing made me feel like I was living my best life, and I would wake up in the morning, think about everything I have to do and everywhere I had to be...and I just didn't want to. It sucked.
Just a few weeks ago, I was lying in bed one morning before a shift at work (my retail job, not my internship), and I felt so numb and drained. The thought of getting up and spending six hours on a Saturday to go to a job that had no future or positive impact on me was just...depressing.
But I kept telling myself over and over again that it was for the money and to get out of the house, and although that worked for a while, eventually it just became too much.
I realized that I was staying at my job to keep my parents happy by having my own money and keep my understaffed managers happy by helping out and keep my friends happy by being able to afford going out often but then I said.....but what the heck am I doing to keep myself happy? Nothing, really.
I wasn't passionate or excited or content with my life. I was just going through the motions of a lifestyle that was keeping everyone around me satisfied, but I felt nothing.

One night, I walked out of work (on a Friday because I love working weekend nights since I have no social life or friends). I got into my car and sat there and just started bawling my eyes out. Like that gasping for air, I don't know why I'm crying, oh geez there's a guy in a car driving past me and we just made eye contact and this is embarrassing...kind of bawling. And I drove home like nothing happened.
Then I showered, went to bed, and woke up the next day and went to work pretending I was okay. And I did it again the next day, and the next day, and again and again.
But finally, one day I called my mom (once again sobbing because I'm a giant baby), and I had zero reason to be so upset except that it was a busy day and I was overwhelmed physically and mentally. She told me to quit. Like that day, on the spot. And I was like...who are you? In this house we don't do anything spontaneously, we sit and sleep on it for 47 days until we are good and ready to make a decision.
So I went home, cried for two more hours and told my parents that I just didn't feel good, I felt like I was depressed and that my life was hopeless and meaningless, and I was losing sight of myself and my aspirations.
"Just quit. The money will come back as soon as you start working again. Your mental health may not."
So I quit.

I want to do things that I enjoy and that make me feel alive and accomplished and meaningful. I want to be where I'm appreciated and valued and needed.
At the end of the day, I want to be taking steps (even if they're tiny baby steps) towards my goals and aspirations. I don't want to live a "one step forward, two steps back" lifestyle. Tiny baby steps are generally what I've taken over the last year, but to me that's enough.
Leaving behind a lifestyle that I personally outgrew and no longer enjoyed was one huge step for me, though. It scared me, and made me a little bit sad, but that's how I know it's a good change. Anyone with any type of anxiety would know that literally everything scares us, but it's those really really scary things that are so worth the fear.
Everyone deserves to be where they're valued and loved and important. In all parts of your life.

And I'm not saying that I wasn't appreciated or valued, because I really can't speak for how other people feel about me. But I felt like I wasn't.
You know on TV when people are in counselling sessions and the therapist says "now always say 'I feel these emotions' not 'you make me feel these emotions'", that's what's I'm trying to say. I felt these things, regardless of how other people were actually treating me.
Basically (a really wise phrase I came up with one night in the shower)...Someone who is unknowingly hurting you, is still hurting you. 
And that goes for anyone in any way, shape, or form in your life. Whether it's a friend or family or colleague, it's all the same.
Nobody deserves to feel unwanted or unappreciated or undervalued. You just don't. And I don't know why we often just accept the way people treat us if it's not the way we personally need to be treated.
I, for instance, am a big baby and if you say mean mean things to me I will cry right in front of you and get mascara all over my face because I'm a giant adult baby.

So, I don't want to start a riot and convince everyone to quit their job and leave their toxic situations and start a new life in a small European city, but if that's what you need to do right now then so be it my dude.
But I think I did want to share my story because I know (I hope) there is at least one (maybe two) other people in the world that this resonates with.
Are you living your best life right now, or just a life? Going through the motions of a super busy or really boring or same old thing life?
I hate change, it's scary and anxiety inducing but it is so worth it. A thousand times worth it. I don't like the phrase "the grass isn't always greener on the other side" because sometimes...it actually is.
This is kind of the whole point of this post...to share my experience (the stress, tears, frustration) and hopefully help other people in similar situations. I mean, helping people is literally the whole point of my blog right?

I'm glad to be back. I'm anxious of course, because sharing my thoughts on the internet is somehow scary as if the whole entire world reads my blog. (Although I could use that kind of Adsense)
I'm going to continue doing what scares me if it creates a positive change, and writing about things that I think other people need or want to hear. (Omg I started calorie counting a few months ago and I love it and can't wait to share about it because before that I was so against it but it changed my life ok I'll save this for next post)
Anyways, my mom told me not to write something mushy and depressing as my first post back, but I must. This is who I am mother! She can't stop me! Unless she'll stop buying me really green bananas and soy coffee creamer because I love those.

Oh yeah, and if you know anyone who's hiring a writer/editor/reporter/journalist, hook a sister up. I'm kidding but also so not kidding. 

Thank you for reading. Especially if you've made it to the end. And even more if you've read most or all of my posts. It means a lot. It's cool to be able to share my writing with other people. I've always kept it to myself growing up. But this year I got to share so many awesome articles for school with hundreds of readers and it made me feel so satisfied.
Me and my fragile little heart will be here writing away because I refuse to let anything stop me again.
I decided to put myself first for the first time in a really long time and ugh, I'm so happy I did.

I'm a living paradox

         Hello! I’ve been absent for quite a while and it’s because of how hectic this semester has been. I had an actual slap in the face with how much work I have to do for the next couple of months.

         But anyways that’s a pathetic excuse for not posting weekly like I planned to. I am very small and very tired and I am writing non-stop this semester so my brain (and also my fingers!) are exhausted. 

         I hope everyone else is doing well though!!! Hopefully your first month of the year has been a little less hectic than mine.

         Last week, Canada celebrated Bell Let’s Talk Day and I actually went to a panel talk to cover for an article that I wrote for school which you can *wink wink* read here.

         I also recently went to another more casual talk about mental health that was hosted by an amazing YouTuber, Joey Kidney. I covered that for school too so it will be publicly posted soon!!

         So, as if it’s not obvious enough, I am not only a mental health activist, but I’m pretty educated on it and I’m very aware of the constant state of my own mental health.

         This post is loooong but since it’s so overdue, it’s kind of a jumble of my thoughts as I sat down to write. This was written over three days so if it seems like it’s here, there, and everywhere, that’s why. Hopefully this makes up for my absence, and I won’t be offended if it takes you a few days to get through reading it. 

         Also a side note related to this post, my future posts, and hopefully your own vocabulary here on out. I read a tweet the other day that said something along the lines of: referring to people’s mental illnesses by saying they are ‘struggling’ or ‘suffering’ just means that they are losing their fight. Saying that someone is ‘battling a mental illness’ insinuates that they are fighting and winning. 

         So, from here on out, I’ve made it my own goal and I hope you can take something from this too. Saying that someone is struggling and suffering from a mental health issue doesn’t give them the opportunity to be seen as battling and overcoming a lengthy match. 

         

         Back to scheduled programming.

         I talk about my anxiety, a lot. I’m very open about it, I have zero shame and I am 100% certain that I am battling my anxiety. Very recently, I have been pushing myself out of the comfort zone that my anxiety puts me in and I’ve felt a thousand times better than I have in a long time.

         I am not suffering, at all. As I’ve said before and will say a thousand more times on my blog, I have high functioning anxiety. Which means that my anxiety is very active in my day to day life but I function well and I am very successful despite it. Some days, my anxiety actually pushes me to do things out of precaution or worry which benefits me. Obviously I still have my downfalls, my bad days, and my anxiety attacks. But normally I go about my day to day life completely aware that my anxiety is irrational and over reactive and I try my hardest not to let it have a strong hold of myself.

         So, if I don’t reach out to you often or at all, it’s not because I don’t think you can help, or I don’t want you to know about what I’m going through, or any other reason to exclude you from my life. I have battled my anxiety for over a decade, completely alone. And I intend to continue doing just that. I am a very independent person and I rarely reach out to anyone for help with anything in general because I want to do everything by myself. I know that I can overcome my anxiety everyday with me, myself, and I. I don’t want to invalidate my strength as a human being by constantly running to others to console me. 

         In fact, I actually had an anxiety counsellor for a few months. I stopped talking to her because I didn’t like depending on someone else to help me with something that was completely personal to me. I couldn’t handle being encouraged and pushed by someone else to overcome my fears and anxieties because I need my motivation to come from within. 

         Something she would constantly tell me was that she was so impressed and a little bit surprised by the fact that I am so aware of how my anxiety affects me but I don’t do anything to stop it. She said that most people aren’t aware that they’re losing out on life because of anxiety. But I would constantly say “I know this stupid” or “I know I shouldn’t worry about that” which she said is such a breakthrough because that means I’m completely aware of the way my brain malfunctions, I just haven’t mastered the art of not letting it control my life. 

         So, just further proof that I want and can go through this alone most days because I know I am smart enough and strong enough to.  

         When I need an emotional or physical hug, I will reach out. The times I do are few and far between, but I promise you when I need you, I will come. This past year has been exhausting because of school, but I’ve generally felt in control and I want to get through my fear of growing up and starting my career completely alone. 

         It also goes without saying that anxiety is so irrational that I can’t even get the words to describe it out of my mouth. The things I’ve had anxiety attacks over for the past few months have been so stupid that I just can’t have anyone know that this is what plagues me. So I keep it to myself, go to bed, and hope I’m over it by the morning. Most days I am. Each day brings a new little struggle and I’ve become very good at getting over little hurdles completely alone. I’m proud of myself, I feel strong emotionally and spiritually and when I meet a hurdle that I feel too weak to get over alone, I will reach out to anyone and everyone who can help me. 

         I also want to say that I made my blog to share my journey with anxiety, life, and everything in between as a way to attract people who want to read about someone else who feels the same way or goes through the same things as they do. For some people, hearing me share my own personal experiences might bring you comfort and relief and help you feel less alone in a world that’s full of alienation and exclusion. I personally feel like I was put on this earth to help other people because I am strong enough to battle my own mental health issues and I can teach and guide others who are just like me. 

         All I ask of the people who care about me is to please don’t underestimate how strong I am. I’ve gone through a lot, completely alone, and I am so extremely proud of myself for that. 

         If in the past I’ve said that I’m “struggling” or “suffering”, I now recognize that those words are completely wiped from my vocabulary and I will no longer use them. But if I say I feel “overwhelmed” or “extremely anxious”, I also recognize that these feelings are not key characteristics of who I am, and most importantly are not permanent. 

         I can temporarily feel overcome with anxiety for short or long periods of time, but at the end of it all, the goal is to overcome my anxiety using the tools I’ve learned and my very strong determinance.  I may choose to reach out to others for a little boost, motivation, or just a venting session or I might spend many days alone, in silence, solitude, and protection from the world. It’s really my choice. I’m not going to force myself to ask for help if I don’t want or need it. 

         That’s where I want to say to you: do what you need to do to feel better. If you want to talk to someone about what you’re going through, then do it. If your mental illness makes you want to seclude yourself from the world until you feel better, do that too. You weren’t put on the earth to suffer in a way that hurts and alienates you, you’re here to battle everything that comes your way in however long it takes and with however many people you need on your team. 

         For me, my team is usually me, myself, and I. Some days, it’s me, myself, and my mom. Sometimes it’s me, myself, and only one specific friend who can understand what I’m currently going through. Sometimes, it’s me, myself, and Netflix or me, myself, and a lot of sleep. Everyday is something new and each day I learn and adapt to my changing life. 

         I realized quite a while ago that I might be a walking paradox. I find when I’m writing about myself in general, but mostly about my anxiety, that I contradict myself a lot. You might have noticed this about me (or yourself) too. It makes me very self conscious when I share my anxieties (yes talking about my anxiety gives me anxiety), but I always push myself to just click publish and share my story because I want to help other people who feel similar. 

         I know that sometimes I say I am or have been extremely anxious and other times I say that I am strong, independent woman but that’s what the paradox is all about. It changes everyday and guess what? So do I. I would be nothing if I didn’t learn to be flexible and adapt to my changing life and state of my mind. 

         For example, in my post a few months ago, I said that I have an irrational fear of birthday parties. Which is still true for the most part. But the other night I went to a birthday party. And I wasn’t anxious about it at all. Actually, when I woke up the morning of, I felt almost…excited? I was sitting in bed like what is this feeling I’m feeling? Tis not anxiety, tis almost excitement. It was such a breakthrough for me. Again, I sound like I’m contradicting myself but really this is just part of growth for me. 

         I’m also really paradoxical in my behaviour. Some days I have absolutely nothing to say and others you can’t shut me up. In some situations, I’m the life of the party and others I’m a wallflower with no desire to fit in. It really depends on my state of mind, the people around me, and possibly……the direction of the sun. It’s unpredictable is what I’m trying to say. But that’s how I am and I live on a take it or leave it basis. 

         

         I know from my studies and experiences that mental health issues are not constant. If you know anyone or you yourself have a mental illness, then you will know that every single day brings something different. Especially for people battling depression, there are some days they they function pretty well and go to to work or do their day to day duties and get along fine. But other days they hit a brick wall and can’t leave their bed. The very nature of mental health issues is that they are never in a state of constancy. That’s why they’re so unpredictable and so nerve wracking.

         I never know how I’m going to feel when I wake up. It makes me feel, for lack of a better word, very anxious. I get anxious about whether I will wake up anxious. It sounds so ridiculous but I think if you understand exactly what I’m talking about, then you’ll nod and agree. 

         This is and always has been a journey for me and I think my anxiety is such an important part of who I am. I would not be wary and cautious without it but sometimes I also think I need it to be careful of the things I say and do because I need some form of self control. (Also, I tend to have no filter on the things I say so without being anxious about the response I get, I would be spewing out stupid things all day). (Maybe that’s why I’m a writer……I think I just like to talk…….although people who have seen me sit alone in silence in a crowded room would disagree). (Ugh, I’m such a paradox). 

         

         My advice to you is to just do what makes you happy. Practice self care as often and as much as you need to. Try to become aware of the things you’re feeling and ask yourself why you’re feeling that way and if you’re feeling ambitious, try stopping yourself from feeling negatively. 

         It’s very easy to say “I’m so anxious” or “I’m feeling so xyz” but the challenge is asking yourself “why am I feeling so xyz?” I know I have the type of anxiety that always has a “trigger” and even if I feel like there’s no cause, deep down I know there is something I’m suppressing that’s making me feel this way. 

         My second piece of advice is to slow down. Maybe even stop. I mean it’s hard to stop when you live a very busy life or even a normal life where you need to be constantly on the go. My life right now has been the busiest it’s ever been, but I still take the time every now and then to slow myself down and just let myself relax. 

         During my first semester of post grad school, I accidentally committed myself to six day weeks between work and school. At one point, work got busy so I did fifteen days straight. On the fourteenth day I had a breakdown in my bedroom ten minutes before my shift started. It was over the stupidest thing but I had worked myself to the bone so my brain had a temper tantrum in an effort to try to slow me down. It worked, and after that I decided to cool it down and sacrifice a few extra dollars so that I could have days off and mentally recover from my busy life. 

         You need a day off. Honestly at least once, maybe even twice a week. They’re called “five-day work weeks” for a reason. People who have to constantly surround themselves by other people and make plans on their days off confuse me. Aren’t they exhausted? I hope they’re taking the time to slow themselves down. And I hope you are too.

         

         Thank you for reading and I look very forward to next my post. It’s going to be about something very personal but also that I know millions of people also suffer—NAY, battle, on a daily basis.

         Wishing you a wonderful day, night, month, year, lifetime and I’ll see y’all on the flipside.