Although this blog started as being purely about yoga and wellness, I soon realized after only a few short months of writing that, although the content I was coming up with could be useful to some, it wasn’t conveying the heart of what I needed to share. In March, I decided to change course, easing the blog in a new direction. You can read about my decision here, but the long and short of it is that I’m aiming to stay vulnerable, not just so that I can live a fuller life, but so that anyone who might be drawn to my writing will know they aren’t alone.
So, because my goal is to be authentic and to always share from my heart, I’ll be honest.
I’ve not been doing so well these past few weeks.
The people around me don’t notice, and they think that I’m simply tired or perhaps stressed, but the truth is that after nine years of dealing with depression and anxiety (often on a daily basis), I’ve become quite good at gritting my teeth and pushing through with a happy face. To some extent, this is a good thing because it allows me to maintain a degree of normalcy and continue to function when it’s tempting to wallow, but at the same time, it’s hard when others see my high-functioning personality, clap me on the back, and wave my actual feelings away like a cobweb.
I’m the type of person who loves to be productive, who is always looking for the next project or a new area in which to better myself, so slowing down tends to be difficult for me. I love writing for this blog, and I’m going to keep at it. However, I wanted to be upfront about the reason I haven’t been posting as frequently as of late. After all, as the cliche goes, “You can’t pour from an empty vessel.” Taking care of ourselves first is important, and I’m working on finding a healthy balance between rest and effort for my own self.
Rest assured that as I continue to navigate through these less-than-awesome times in my life, I’ll also be sharing whatever I learn along the way. When I was still a teenager, I used to think that someday I would be completely past depression, that I’d be able to look back on it as nothing more than just a distant memory. And, while it’s true that my symptoms have gotten way, WAY better over the past nine years, I’m still not completely to the point I once assumed I’d be at. I still take medication, I still look for new, healthy coping methods, and I still need support.
You know what, though? That’s okay. I may not be out of the woods yet (or “out of the basement” yet, as Andrea Ferretti says), but this struggle allows me to grow, and more importantly, it allows me to relate to others in a way that I would not be able to without it. Besides, impermanence can be a blessing. Feelings come, feelings go. Everything ebbs and flows. I just have to ride this one out until I end up on shore again.
Love, light, and ALL my good vibes! I’ll see you back here soon, I promise.