Finding comfort in chaos has been a pattern for me and my unresolved trauma. Especially before I sought treatment for my childhood sexual assault, and often without realizing it, I would feel somewhat "addicted" to emotional pain. In other words, I felt most myself when there was some sort of conflict in my life, whether it was a physical health condition or a relationship issue. While I didn't actively want these things to be happening, I did find comfort in the chaos they stirred up.

Comfort in Chaos and Unresolved Trauma

From the early age of four, comfort and chaos seemed almost interchangeable. My unresolved trauma manifested into obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and caused daily panic attacks for much of my childhood. In other words, my nervous system was so used to heightened fear that it didn't know how to embrace peace. 

My unresolved trauma sat in me for 20 years before I was finally able to talk about it. During that time — and for years after — it manifested as anger, controlling behavior, resentment, drama, and eventually even physical pain and illness. 

Healing Unresolved Trauma and No Longer Experiencing Comfort in Chaos

To address your unresolved trauma and comfort in chaos, I will always recommend therapy first and foremost. Personally, I couldn't even recognize this emotional "addiction" to conflict until I was properly diagnosed with posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Awareness was my first step. From there, it helped to have a therapist who could validate my experience and offer professional support and guidance.

Some other ways I was able to heal my unresolved trauma and stop craving chaos include:

• I accept where I am on my healing journey. In my experience, you can't rush your healing or shame yourself into a "better place." I am still not fully healed from my trauma, but I know I'm learning and growing more each day. I now understand why my brain works the way it does, and rather than blaming or shaming myself for how I've learned to survive, I try to focus more on understanding my patterns and how I might develop healthier ones. By accepting where I am in this moment, I provide myself with a sense of grace, which is crucial to any healing journey. 
• I accept myself feeling "bored." Through my recovery, I've found that peace and calm can feel boring when you have a hypervigilant brain. When you are wired to scan your environment for danger — which was common for me post-trauma — it can feel uncomfortable to be at ease. I used to constantly say, "I just want peace," which was true to a certain extent. Deep down, in my heart, I did want peace. However, I simply couldn't feel safe in a calm environment. Not only that, but I had become desensitized to my brain's chemical responses that would typically help me appreciate the positive aspects of my life, like love and excitement. This oftentimes translated either to discomfort or boredom in my everyday life. By letting myself sit in those feelings (and anything else that has come up), I've been able to appreciate the simple things rather than seek conflict.
• I practice gratitude and mindfulness. Gratitude and mindfulness have been game-changers for me. When I started to become aware and appreciative of life's little joys, from sunrises to good conversations with friends to home-cooked meals, I noticed my perspective shift and my nervous system settle. Rather than finding comfort in chaos, I found contentment in peace.
• I walk away from anyone/anything that perpetuates this cycle. While I'm certainly not blaming anyone for my own struggles, I had to seriously consider the people (as well the "things," such as jobs or even drinking habits) in my life who were contributing to this pattern. I've learned that some people or situations can negatively affect your nervous system and stir up old habits like self-blame, victimhood, and people-pleasing. It's important to distinguish between someone who is bringing you peace (initially causing you to want to self-sabotage) versus someone who is bringing you chaos (initially causing you to feel both pain and comfort). If it's the latter, you're likely better off letting go. Trust yourself to know the difference.

Though I've shared and practiced the above tips, I'm certainly not perfect. At times, I still find my unresolved trauma stirring up my ability to find comfort in chaos. However, coming back to a grounded place and touching base with loved ones (as well as my therapist) has allowed me to prioritize peace.

While randomly browsing the Internet in 2015, I came across a powerful phrase: Be who you needed when you were younger. At the time, I was a recent college graduate who had no idea what to do with her life. As a result, the phrase seemed irrelevant to someone like me. However, knowing what I know now, I am convinced that anyone can live by this motto if they want to. You can be who you needed to be when you were younger.

What Does It Mean to 'Be Who You Needed When You Were Younger?' 

From what I understand, "Be who you needed when you were younger" is a mantra that means you must give someone the support you wish you had received at a younger age. For example, do you remember your teenage years when you were angry with the world and had no one to guide you? The next time you see a teenager, remember that angst. Now, think: what if you could be the supportive adult you wished you had met when you were a teen? Sure, you never met such an adult then. But you could be that adult now if you wanted to -- and it wouldn't even take up much of your time or effort. Generally, all it takes is a listening ear, a word of encouragement, or a small act of kindness to make a meaningful impact on a younger person's life. 

The Mental Health Benefits of Being Who You Needed When You Were Younger

Apart from attracting good karma, I believe there are several mental health benefits of being who you needed when you were younger. Firstly, offering support and guidance to others can give you direction and a sense of purpose. For example, when I was a teen, I longed to hear from someone who shared and overcame their mental health struggles. So today, this is exactly what I do as a mental health blogger at HealthyPlace and on my personal blog. Simply knowing that I am helping distressed teenagers and young people, in general, navigate mental health challenges helps me feel that I am doing something meaningful with my life.

You don't have to share your stories on a public platform to help and support someone. You can change lives simply by daring to be authentic and sharing vulnerable stories from your past. 

Secondly, when you offer support and guidance to people, you build and strengthen relationships. According to research, when the quality of your social relationships improves, your mental health also improves.

"Social support refers to the emotionally sustaining qualities of relationships (e.g., a sense that one is loved, cared for, and listened to.) Hundreds of studies establish that social support benefits mental and physical health. Social support may have indirect effects on health through enhanced mental health, by reducing the impact of stress. Personal control refers to individuals' beliefs that they can control their life outcomes through their own actions. Social ties may enhance personal control, and, in turn, personal control is advantageous for health habits, mental health, and physical health."¹

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, being who you needed when you were younger can improve your self-esteem. By sharing your struggles and coping mechanisms with others, you demonstrate your value to others -- and yourself. The fact that I can help others helps boost my confidence, and I am positive you will feel the same way when you help someone. The question is, are you ready to step up and make a difference?  

Source

1. Umberson, D., & Montez, J. K. (2010). Social Relationships and Health: A Flashpoint for Health policy. Journal of Health and Social Behavior, 51(1_suppl), S54–S66. https://doi.org/10.1177/0022146510383501

Trauma splitting (a type of emotional detachment) can be a common side effect after facing verbal abuse. This coping mechanism can happen to individuals of any age. However, children with verbally abusive parents will often develop trauma splitting to separate their normal personality from the traumatized one. 

Stephen Blumenthal describes trauma splitting in his work, "A State of Inbetweenness: The Challenges of Working with Disavowal,"¹ as an emotional detachment or splitting of consciousness where an individual denies awareness of traumatic events. This detachment provides a safe space from overwhelming negative emotions but at the cost of their mental health. 

Not everyone will experience the same side effects from verbal abuse. Unfortunately, trauma splitting is just one of the many adverse reactions I've had after being in a verbally abusive relationship.

Is Trauma Splitting Like Disassociation From Verbal Abuse? 

Some individuals consider trauma splitting to be the same as dissociation. In some situations, it can be. In my life, I've experienced several instances where I've lost time and memories. Unfortunately, it's just one side effect I've used as a coping tool. 

When I was younger, I noticed odd, confusing things. They included situations where:

• People would tell me they saw me somewhere doing something, and I don't remember going there or doing the activity.
• Depending on the day, my penmanship would change drastically from scratchy, thin lines to large, looping, curled letters.
• I would look in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back at me. 
• Sometimes, I would zone out and then forget where I was or what I was doing. 
• I would be in situations where I should react emotionally but feel nothing at all. 

At first, I would chalk these situations up to being overtired or distracted and inattentive. Now, I realize I've had many trauma-splitting moments throughout my life.

How Trauma Splitting Helps Verbal Abuse Recovery

Although my coping mechanisms started as a result of verbal abuse, trauma splitting helped me when I needed it most. The ability to separate harmful words and protect my psyche got me through some of the worst circumstances. 

Of course, dissociation from reality isn't ideal as a typical response to everyday activities. As I recover from verbal abuse, the coping skills I once relied on are no longer useful. If I experience trauma-splitting behaviors now, I would be in contact with my therapist.

A professional counselor helped me work through many past situations where my dissociation interfered with my daily life. Thankfully, these coping mechanisms aren't as common as they once were. 

If you're experiencing some trauma splitting because of verbal abuse, you aren't alone. You shouldn't feel ashamed if you notice this behavior. It can help to talk to a professional who understands trauma splitting and its effects on your life.

Source

1. Blumenthal, S. (2021b). A State of Inbetweenness: The Challenges of Working with Disavowal. British Journal of Psychotherapy, 38(1), 4–16. https://doi.org/10.1111/bjp.12699

When I revert back to an anorexic mindset, it becomes all about earning my worth. Even if I resist the urge to act out eating disorder behaviors, I can still be susceptible to the anorexic mindset, which tells me I need to strive past my own limitations and prove that I am strong, capable, resilient, and valuable. I have a difficult time believing that my self-worth is inherent, so I force myself to achieve it—even if that means I hustle to the edge of burnout with no room to pause, breathe, and rest. An anorexic mindset is all about earning my worth, but l will be honest: This performance-based mentality creates a miserable existence at times.

The Anorexic Mindset Tells Me to Earn My Worth

Lately, I have been working almost nonstop. I am exhausted, but I will not give myself permission to slow down the intensity. I operate under the control of an anorexic mindset, which shouts at me to keep moving at all costs and to deprive myself of affirmation until I have done enough to earn a sense of accomplishment or validation. I know this pattern is both unhealthy and unsustainable, but I cannot seem to break the relentless cycle. I perceive rest as a luxury that I have no business asking for. I view stillness as an indication that I have left something undone on my task list. I am constantly looking for ways to strive harder or push farther because anything less feels unacceptable—the anorexic mindset is all about earning my worth.  

The irony is that I would never impose this anorexic mindset on anyone else. If I saw a loved one (or even just an acquaintance) conflating self-worth and performance metrics, I would want them to know that human value is intrinsic. I would want to offer reassurance that no action or lack thereof can diminish an ounce of their worth. I would want to encourage them to honor the need for stillness and rest. I would extol the virtues of balance over restriction or deprivation. I would tell them how much they matter—not because they have earned it, but rather because it's the truth. Evidently, I use a different measuring stick when it comes to my self-worth.

Earning My Worth Because of the Anorexic Mindset Feels Exhausting and Defeating

So, where do I take it from here? Do I continue allowing this mentality to influence how I view and treat myself? Do I surrender to an anorexic mindset that's all about earning my worth—no matter the physical, mental, and emotional burnout it so often causes? As I write this paragraph, I actually feel sick due to the rigorous, frenetic pace I have been forcing myself to sustain. That is not a life of vitality and freedom. It results in pure exhaustion and sheer defeat. I have come too far in eating disorder recovery to let this anorexic mindset pressure me to reach the breaking point. I still wrestle with the belief that I need to earn my self-worth in a tangible and measurable way, but I can choose to speak the truth over myself as I would for someone else. I am worthy; enough said. I no longer need to accept my anorexic mindset as the status quo.

One part of my treatment for schizoaffective disorder is an antianxiety medication I take as needed. I’ve been taking it for decades, but now my psychiatric nurse practitioner (NP) wants to ween me off of it. I have mixed feelings about this change in my schizoaffective treatment.

I Needed This Treatment for Schizoaffective Disorder Most When I Heard Voices

One of the most important things I’ve used this particular schizoaffective treatment for was when I used to hear voices, I would take it to calm down the voices, and it worked. Now that I no longer hear voices or have any delusions, it might be a good time to go off the medication. Although I am in no way at all antipsychiatry, I would like to be on less medication.

But this treatment helps my schizoaffective anxiety. I have very high anxiety. Yesterday, I got extremely anxious when my shopping cart grazed a display of Cheez-It bags at the grocery store. Normally, I never go grocery shopping alone. I always go with my husband, Tom. And usually, when I go with him, I stay in the car. There are so many things I could knock over and so many people who make me feel that I’m in the way. When we got home from this trip to the grocery store, though, I had to take my as-needed anxiety medication.

Using Therapy Skills as Schizoaffective Treatment

I am happy, though, that I no longer need as much of this treatment for schizoaffective disorder as I used to because my NP and I are decreasing it. And I’ve been using skills I’ve learned in therapy to fill in the gaps. Medication is important, but therapy skills are another crucial schizoaffective treatment for me.

Right now, the therapy skill that helps me the most, especially as my as-needed anxiety medication is being decreased, is telling myself if I’m worrying about something (which is all the time) to put it aside and worry about it later. Another is labeling worries as what-if thinking.

For more about cutting back on my medication for schizoaffective disorder, watch this.

Writing this has made me realize that I can handle slowly going off of this schizoaffective treatment. So, thank you, my readers, because you are why I write these articles. I mean, I quit smoking, I quit drinking, and I’m lowering my sugar intake. (I was getting most of my sugar from juice, so now I’m going back to drinking lots of water.) My whole point is: having done all that, how hard can this be?

It's hard to deal with anxiety when you're going through change. Change can feel scary and unpredictable, and even more so when you are already feeling stress and pressure in other areas of life. This is something I have experienced recently. Over the years, this anxiety trigger has been something I have worked hard on learning how to cope with. Years ago, I would find that any time any major life changes occurred, I would feel extremely anxious.

Why Change Is Difficult for Someone with Anxiety

One of the reasons I've noticed I feel anxiety around change is related to the unpredictability of the situation. When I experience new transitions, life isn't as predictable as it normally would be. Usually, I know what to expect from day-to-day, but if there are changes taking place and things are new, then I don't know what to expect.

That unpredictability taps into the overwhelming worry that often happens with anxiety. The rumination and the persistent thoughts and worries can become overpowering. Instead of feeling confident that I can cope with what may happen, I feel overwhelmed because I feel as though I don't know what is going to happen.

This also often results in withdrawing from others and wanting to isolate. I know, though, from experience, that this is actually not helpful for me and can ultimately have the opposite effect of making my anxiety worse when I'm going through change.

Essentially, I've been pushed out of my comfort zone, my daily habits and routine, and along with that comes feelings of disarray. The worry that I often feel that something bad is going to happen -- which is characteristic of anxiety -- becomes something that I feel very noticeably.

Dealing with Anxiety that Comes with Change

The problem with this is that it makes it hard for me to function on a daily basis. That becomes challenging when you need to be able to function effectively every day while, at the same time, you are having difficulty focusing because your thoughts are mired in worries about the future.

Things that I know are helpful and that I am continuing to try to work on when dealing with change and anxiety include practicing mindfulness, deep breathing, and meditation.

And while calming my nervous system helps, I think the most helpful strategy that I need to focus on is reframing my negative thought process. I need to recognize the patterns of thinking that lead me to feel overwhelmed, without control, and just worse overall. Sometimes, writing these thoughts down helps me to organize them in my mind and make sense of them to where I can regain a sense of control.

Are there strategies you use to help you cope with anxiety when going through change? If so, share them in the comments below.

Co-fronting with alternate personalities (alters) in dissociative identity disorder (DID) is something I only recently learned about. Sharing my mind with multiple identities, each with thoughts, feelings, and perspectives, lends itself to interesting conversations. These internal complexities can lead to co-fronting (when two or more alters are in control of the body at the same time) while significantly influencing how conversations unfold internally and externally, depending on the factors present at the time. 

Co-Fronting and Conversations with Alters in DID

Until a few months ago, I had never heard of co-fronting. I learned about it in therapy. Co-fronting is:

"a specific type of co-consciousness in which two or more alters are in control of the body at the same time to varying degrees."¹

For me, co-fronting with alters in DID makes every conversation become a delicate dance of managing identities and external interactions, working to ensure everyone feels heard and respected. However, even seemingly mundane discussions can trigger co-fronting between alters, disrupting the flow of dialog externally. It's like juggling multiple conversations at once, maintaining coherence while staying present in the moment and accommodating the diverse voices within. All of which can be disorienting. 

While my consciousness switching between alters ("switching") has decreased significantly over the past few years, co-fronting still impacts my relationships and everyday conversations. We've found the impact comes when triggered alters begin co-fronting, but they may not have the same skills or emotional regulation as I do. These conversations can look like a mini rollercoaster with twists and turns.

Learning to Co-Front with Alters in DID

To learn more about the impact of co-fronting with alters in DID, watch this video:

Co-fronting has taught me each alter may have different preferences, opinions, likes, dislikes, and communication styles. Co-fronting with alters in DID makes collaboration essential for navigating daily interactions smoothly. Picture a roundtable discussion where every voice has a seat and decisions are made collectively. However, the ins and outs of the day provide little to no time for roundtable discussions, which is why my system exists more as a mini rollercoaster, with two or more drivers at the wheel as we continue working to navigate co-fronting. 

Moreover, conversations can serve as triggers for switches or co-fronting, especially when the topic touches upon past trauma or deeply held beliefs within my collection of alters (system). What may seem like a harmless remark to one alter, could evoke intense emotions or memories for another, prompting a sudden shift in demeanor or communication style. 

Learning from Co-Fronting with Alters in DID

Despite these challenges, everyday conversations also provide opportunities for growth and understanding. Through dialog, I've gained more insight into the experiences and perspectives of my alters. Over time, this has fostered a deeper sense of empathy and cooperation within the system. Not every alter may be comfortable co-fronting in external conversations. Other alters may have much to say or be easily triggered, making for a bumpier co-fronting ride. Nevertheless, continuing to learn from my experiences has allowed me to understand what co-fronting with alters in DID means for our internal system and how this relates to our everyday conversations. 

My experience continues to show me that, while complex, everyday conversations while living with DID are a dance of managing internal and external dialogs. It's a journey of self-discovery, communication, and collaboration among alters, with each conversation offering opportunities for growth, insight, and understanding. 

Source

1. Dissociative Identity Disorder Terminology. (n.d.). Multiplied by One Org | Trauma and Dissociative Disorders. https://multipliedbyone.org/dissociative-identity-disorder-terminology/

Everyone has habits -- both healthy and unhealthy habits. Healthy habits might be drinking enough water throughout the day. Unhealthy might be drinking excessively every night. Lately, I am finding that some of my past behaviors and thought patterns have contributed to some of my unhealthy habits today. To learn more about my discoveries and experiences with habits, continue reading this blog post.

Unhealthy Habits Around Comfort Food and Gambling

As a child, I loved fast food and chocolate. At first, it was not an issue because I was slim and fairly active. But as the years passed, I couldn't get my hands on enough cookies and candy.

In middle school, I started to gain quite a bit of weight. It got a little worse in high school. But I thought that since I was young, I could change my eating habits at any time.

Eventually, it worked. I gave up fast food and started packing healthy lunches for school. I worked out for an hour every night. Toward the end of my senior year, I felt really good about my body. So, throughout the rest of high school and college, I kept going to the gym and restricting my calories. But these habits did not last.

In my mid-20s, I started to get chronic back pain. I became severely depressed and lost my interest in exercising. Since then, I have found my weight slowly increasing. Last year, in addition to eating fast food and chocolate, I started playing slots when I was stressed out. I thought that it would help me feel better when I needed a win. But after losing my money, that was not the case.

My Unhealthy Habits Are Triggered by Shame

When it comes to impulsive, unhealthy habits, there is a thought pattern I recognize. Here it is.

• I made some money today. I'm going to reward myself with a Big Mac meal.
• Now I should probably exercise. But the bar is right around the corner. It is time to play slots.
• I just lost 20 dollars. Maybe if I just spend 10 more dollars, I will win it all back and then some.
• I just lost all my money. I'm more disappointed than I was before. Maybe a sundae will help me feel better.

But before I knew it, my unhealthy habits had a tight grip on my mind, body, and self-esteem. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror or checked my bank account balance, I hated myself. To feel better, I turned to my unhealthy habits all over again.

Before I started writing this blog post, I had lost a lot of my hard-earned money on slots. Tonight, it hit me: Every time I give in to an unhealthy habit, I lose something that I could have been gaining by creating a healthier one. I am wasting the time, money, and energy that I need to thrive in the long run. So, now that I have written all this down, this is the first step to change.

If you are struggling with an unhealthy habit or an addiction, please know that you are not alone. You are human, and you are allowed to make mistakes. Everyone is a work in progress. It can be easy to fall sometimes. But if you can fall, you can also rise and become stronger than before. The most important thing is to keep looking forward and be intentional about making healthy changes.

In the pursuit of nurturing self-esteem, my journey spans nearly two decades of mindfulness meditation practice and affirmations. The profound influence of mindfulness meditation practice has allowed me to comprehend the potency residing within my own mind, transforming it from a tumultuous sea of thoughts into a serene sanctuary that nurtures my self-esteem. Affirmations have a power all their own.

The Transformative Power of Mindfulness to Nurture Self-Esteem

Mindfulness, a discipline requiring persistent effort, has taught me the art of quieting the mind and reclaiming a peaceful state, free from the intrusion of unwanted thoughts. This commitment to being present in the moment, coupled with non-judgmental observation, serves as a powerful tool in countering the persistent waves of negativity often associated with low self-esteem and mental health conditions. 

The journey to quieting the mind is no magical remedy; instead, it is a skill cultivated through consistent practice. Through the lens of mindfulness meditation, I have harnessed the ability to steer my thoughts away from negativity, redirecting my focus toward tranquility. The rewards of this effort extend far beyond the meditation cushion, permeating various facets of my life and nurturing the foundation of self-esteem. 

Positive Affirmations: A Guiding Light to Nurture Self-Esteem

Another facet of nurturing self-esteem involves the deliberate practice of positive affirmations. These simple yet potent statements act as beacons of positivity, dispelling the shadows of self-doubt and fostering the growth of self-worth within. 

Understanding the malleability of our thoughts, positive affirmations play a crucial role in reshaping the narrative of our inner dialogue. Customized to individual needs, these affirmations serve as a continual reminder of our strengths, resilience, and intrinsic value. They act as a shield against the arrows of negativity, fortifying the armor of self-esteem. 

In the age of technology, accessing positive affirmations has become effortlessly convenient. Social media platforms offer an abundance of affirmations that can be seamlessly integrated into daily routines. Whether through written messages or audio affirmations, these tools provide a constant source of encouragement, reinforcing the belief in one's own self-worth. 

By regularly engaging with positive affirmations, we consciously nurture our self-esteem, infusing our subjectivities with thoughts that uplift, inspire, and affirm our inherent value. This proactive approach to self-esteem is an ongoing journey, yet the rewards are immeasurable: a resilient mind, a compassionate heart, and a bolstered sense of self-esteem. 

I encourage my audience to consider how they can incorporate mindfulness and positive affirmations into their daily routine to nurture self-esteem. I assure you it is worth it. 

As I recovered from my mental illness, I still had an overwhelming, heavy feeling that I was behind in life. I spent so much time asking myself what I had done wrong when I really should have asked myself, "Why do I feel this way?" Comparing myself to others was a dangerous, harmful game, and at the end of the day, I was the only one keeping score in being behind in life.

Recovery and Reflecting on Being Behind in Life

My birthday is coming up soon; in fact, one week from today, and for some reason, that anniversary always puts me in a funk. The passing of time has always been a scary concept for me, and every birthday, I end up asking myself, "Why am I not further along?"

I like social media. I believe there are genuine, good things that come from it. But there are also undeniable negatives to its usage as well. As I scroll, I see people my age, or even younger, smiling in front of a "sold" sign, propping up a baby on their hip, accepting a work award, or cutting a wedding cake. Long after I put down my phone, I ask myself, "Where are your accomplishments? Why are you behind in life?"

Why Do I Feel So Behind in Life Compared to Everyone Else?

Sometimes, my big accomplishment of the day is getting out of bed or walking around the block. I've never run a marathon. I don't have my own family, and my professional title doesn't start with "senior." 

My life has had some bumps. When I was at the height of a long depressive episode and had undiagnosed attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, I would let things slip. A great example is with mail. I would get a bill, and it would sit in a pile of mail for months. Eventually, several of my school loans went months overdue. It was terrible for my credit, but I couldn't get myself to care enough to fix it. 

It's hard to plan for the future when you can't picture a future. When existing feels hopeless, it feels useless to open a bill, let alone create goals. I was surviving day-to-day, and at that point, it was the best I could do.

The Dangers of Thinking You're Behind in Life

Comparing myself to others never had a positive outcome -- it always made me feel behind in life. It made me feel weak, untalented, and undisciplined, and I am none of those things. But how am I supposed to feel when being fed the highlight reels of everyone else's lives?

I finished eight books this year, but it doesn't matter because my friend finished 12. I tried a new workout class. Cool, but my coworker ran a race. I found an apartment I like. That's great, but an old classmate just bought a house.

It felt like nothing I did was good enough. But good enough to who, to everyone else? I've recognized that I didn't even want some of the things my peers were doing. I've slowly wrapped my head around the fact that the only person I need to be "good enough" for is me.

Everyone struggles, but those with mental illness have it even harder. At some points in my life, working, keeping up relationships, going to the gym, and even getting up were hard. I did my best. And the most important part is that it was my best, and not anyone else's. At the end of the day, that's all that matters.