I've had Paula Abdul stuck in my head ever since this coronavirus stuff really started ramping up.
Until a few weeks ago, 2020 had been an incredible year for me and my mental health. Counseling was making a big difference. I was beginning to practice true self-care. I was setting healthy boundaries at work. I was in a decent head space. Though anxiety and depression were still part of my daily life, I felt, for the first time in a long time, that I had taken back control. Yes, there were still bad days, but the good had begun to outweigh the bad.
And now this. Hence the feeling of two steps forward and two steps back.
I don't think I'm alone in this thought pattern. I've heard friends say the same thing. I've seen memes saying the same thing. And it got me to thinking about something I've shared before but never truly allowed myself to believe:
Growth isn't linear. Some days are good. Some are bad. Sometimes your brain stops telling you lies. Sometimes it tells you more lies than ever before. Sometimes you are strong, and sometimes you feel weak. But bad days do not wipe out progress. And growth is growth is growth.
The last week I feel that I have "relapsed" to that worst version of myself. The scared, distrusting, paranoid, anxious, self-deprecating version of myself that visits on the bad days. The one that tells me I'm not good enough and that no one loves me. The one that seeks validation desperately. The one that searches in a panicked-state for love from outside herself because she can't find it within.
I'm trying to have grace with this version of myself. I'm trying to understand why she is here today and that it's okay to be in this space for now. This is temporary. Both our current mental states and what the world is going through. Just because we feel stuck right now doesn't mean we are stuck forever.
To combat the overwhelming anxiety, I am trying to talk to my friends and my family. I'm trying to tell them what I need. But even that is hard. The talking and saying aloud what I need makes me feel desperate and annoying. It makes me feel like I'm bothering them. It makes me feel like a burden. But I keep reminding myself that I am loved. That I am not a burden. That we all need a little more right now.
The thing about me is that I give love without reservation. I try to support and reassure and anticipate the needs of those I love. But I don't ask for that in return. In fact, I push it away with both hands, because I feel like I don't deserve it.
We all deserve it though. No matter if we feel like we're growing or standing still. No matter if we have had a bad day or are the absolute best versions of ourselves. We deserve love. I deserve love, and even when I feel like the things that are happening around me are out of control and scary, I can have grace with myself and understand that I am doing my best and that is enough.
Until a few weeks ago, 2020 had been an incredible year for me and my mental health. Counseling was making a big difference. I was beginning to practice true self-care. I was setting healthy boundaries at work. I was in a decent head space. Though anxiety and depression were still part of my daily life, I felt, for the first time in a long time, that I had taken back control. Yes, there were still bad days, but the good had begun to outweigh the bad.
And now this. Hence the feeling of two steps forward and two steps back.
I don't think I'm alone in this thought pattern. I've heard friends say the same thing. I've seen memes saying the same thing. And it got me to thinking about something I've shared before but never truly allowed myself to believe:
The last week I feel that I have "relapsed" to that worst version of myself. The scared, distrusting, paranoid, anxious, self-deprecating version of myself that visits on the bad days. The one that tells me I'm not good enough and that no one loves me. The one that seeks validation desperately. The one that searches in a panicked-state for love from outside herself because she can't find it within.
I'm trying to have grace with this version of myself. I'm trying to understand why she is here today and that it's okay to be in this space for now. This is temporary. Both our current mental states and what the world is going through. Just because we feel stuck right now doesn't mean we are stuck forever.
To combat the overwhelming anxiety, I am trying to talk to my friends and my family. I'm trying to tell them what I need. But even that is hard. The talking and saying aloud what I need makes me feel desperate and annoying. It makes me feel like I'm bothering them. It makes me feel like a burden. But I keep reminding myself that I am loved. That I am not a burden. That we all need a little more right now.
The thing about me is that I give love without reservation. I try to support and reassure and anticipate the needs of those I love. But I don't ask for that in return. In fact, I push it away with both hands, because I feel like I don't deserve it.
We all deserve it though. No matter if we feel like we're growing or standing still. No matter if we have had a bad day or are the absolute best versions of ourselves. We deserve love. I deserve love, and even when I feel like the things that are happening around me are out of control and scary, I can have grace with myself and understand that I am doing my best and that is enough.
