Life

"Life is beautiful." "Life is worth living." "Life is special." "Life is what you make of it"... "Every life is perfect as it is."

At least that's what life is when you're sitting in your room, scrolling through inspirational posts shared by your aunt on Facebook, and by your perky colleague who seems to always be in a fantastic mood, even at 7 AM during a snowstorm.

Yet, just when you start to finally agree with that outlook, "life" gets in your way and knocks you on your bum, reminding you that not everything works out, and you will not always have the "perfect life"... and that's ok.

A few years ago, I was at my lowest point; I was recovering from the fear of being harassed online, I let everyone walk all over me so I could avoid conflict, I was suffering from what I would later learn was an extremely intense, undiagnosed mental illness, and I felt like nothing was going my way. I felt lost, I felt scared, and I certainly did not think "life" was worth living. For a long time, I felt bitter and resentful: "Why do I feel so miserable when life is supposed to be so special and amazing?" "What am I doing wrong?" "Why can't I snap out of this?!" "I wish life was different." I blamed myself for everything, and I had no idea how to change my life so that it could be "worth living."

Then, I had a breakdown.

This breakdown was so brutal and so painful that it felt like I would never recover. I made excuses not to see my friends, I stopped eating, sleeping and I cried at the drop of a hat. I questioned everything I stood for, everything I loved, and I cut myself off from everyone around me. I certainly did not think that life was beautiful because I was under the impression that something beautiful could not be this painful and imperfect.

It took weeks of middle-of-the-night panic attacks and yelling at the top of my lungs until I couldn't speak anymore for me to finally accept that I had a problem and that it could not be solved on my own. I finally reached out to my dad to tell him how I was feeling, and he forced me to seek professional help.

I was put on medication and I started seeing a therapist weekly. I had hit rock bottom and I was trying to crawl back to the surface imagining that I could finally find perfection in life.

Unfortunately, I didn't. Instead, I found that life is messy and painful, and it is definitely NOT perfect. I realized that "life" is extremely flawed and trying to strive for perfection will only make you miserable.

Through those weekly visits with my therapist, and my own personal growth, I made some changes to the areas of my life that I felt were not helpful to my mental and physical health. I quit social media for a period of time, I quit my part-time job because it no longer made me happy, I slowly started to go out with my friends again, and I joined a gym.

But most importantly I stopped hiding how I was feeling. I opened up to those around me and I stopped trying to make everything perfect. If I felt like something was not right, and it made me unhappy then I tried to fix it or I let it go.

Some days were easier than others, and I have certainly had some very bad days. But that is absolutely normal, and I do not let those bad days define me. Instead, I reflect on what went wrong, accept that it happened, and begin to move on.

Fast forward to today, and I still do not think life is perfect. I will never think life is perfect, but I will also never take it for granted. That pain, those messy points... they are what make you strong and they are what will teach you how to overcome any experience that comes your way.

When you focus on yourself and your feelings, you begin to see that the true beauty of life is growth. Acknowledge the imperfection and adapt.