I had my first dance with mental illness at age 15 and had a psychotic episode at 16. I did a bit of time in the psych wards. That was the first-ever time I've had no access to the outside world. A psychotic episode was a normal response to having to deal with extreme circumstances that were out of my control. What was not normal was brushing it under the rug and pretended it never even happened. It was one of the unspoken secrets under the roof. I felt like I was an attention-seeker, especially from the marks I’ve made on skins. At the time I didn't know why I was doing it. I just didn't want to feel powerless and those emotions of guilt, shame, and unworthiness. For years I lived a double life. At school and around friends, I’d play the role of an outgoing and carefree person. When in reality I was drowning in misery and shame. The school was my escape, it was a place I could forget and pretend.

My current journey has been exploring why I feel disconnected, asking for help and reconnecting to the parts of myself I once left in the dark. Along the way, I have learned that I am an HSP (Highly Sensitive Person) and an HSS (High Sensation Seeking).

Healing is a journey. To be completely honest with you, it’s a journey I never intended to continue on. Not too long ago, I had actually made a beeline in the opposite direction. My pain went numb and the void I felt growing inside of me made me angry. Where I had once felt great empathy, I now found indifference to others and chose to see that indifference as a gift. I raged. Never turning a simple glance to evaluate my actions or the pain I inflicted due to my own. I pushed back at the world for forcing my experiences on me. I was tired. Tired of pushing, tired of dragging the weight of the past behind me, tired of being angry. The years passed by fairly quickly and I realized, finally, that I could not spend one more day living this way and that I was finally ready to do what needed to be done in order to heal. I had always been attracted to spirituality, but I couldn’t quite make sense of it. One of my favorite things currently is how science and spirituality are finally starting to link, making the unexplainable quite simple to comprehend and yet leaving plenty of room for the power of faith. This is the model I’ve come to align with in my daily life. As someone who has endured great childhood trauma and has struggled to make sense of what happened, of myself, and my many diagnoses as well as the harmful ways I’ve coped over the years, this paradigm of science and spirituality has begun to settle my librarian scales and I’m better able to navigate the ebbs and flows of life. Every day is a new opportunity to learn, evolve, make sense, and practice the profound and underrated habit of self love.

A rough year comes along with many fears. The fears come along with many tears. Two surgeries, one stomach disease, one flu, one near death experience, one loss of passion and self identity, and a series of mentally damaging events were the beginning. Having a relationship where you are completely and utterly happy. This is where the damage is started. Because here, your heart feels full. You feel warm, and comforted. He makes the words that those girls are throwing around like a baseball hurt less. He makes them mean nothing. Then, the sky comes falling down and your world is torn to pieces. He broke your heart. So. You move on. It’s fine.

I wish I was more conscious of how unconscious I was when I was a kid lol. I honestly do not think I even thought of anything. I am 34 now, and I have been reflecting on my life lately. Especially because I am not technically where I "should" be (no house, kids, marriage, or steady career). I lost my mom when I was 30 to suicide and it wasn't until that profound moment that I really even began to THINK. I have actually tried to remember what I thought about when I was even 28 and I DO NOT REMEMBER lol.

Have you ever tried to run from yourself?

She walked along the side of a building, picking up a bunch of papers along the way. Each step encouraging her inner whirlpool to move faster. It was her usual routine. Repetitive. The accomplishment of a full-time job being darkened by the whirlpool that was now a tidal wave in her stomach. She struggled. She persisted. She pushed herself. Her chest tight on a regular basis and palms feeling like a mop that needed ringing. Somehow she still managed a smile and a friendly attitude. There was a hurricane brewing inside, yet she didn't seem to know it. 'Kill em' with kindness' was her motto. Instead it was killing her. The sun started to leave. Her spark, her spring were slowly sucked out. It wasn't going anywhere useful though. It was floating in the atmosphere, just out of reach. Deadly thoughts entered her mind. Passion taunted her and the pain overwhelmed her. She crumbled, she shattered, she disintegrated.

I’m not sure why, but at many intricate points in my life, it seems like I’m constantly recalibrating what I know to be true and realigning to something new...different. I honestly don’t like it, it’s like how many layers of bullshit is actually hidden under there??

I crave real connections, not form from hatred or imitation. The thing was, I couldn't form a real connection with others around me. Because I was so disconnected from myself.

So in 2017 I met a guy. In 2018 that same guy dumped me two weeks before our one year anniversary and trashed me to his whole family. I learned the truth hard. All those red flags and the details that never seemed to add up. It was all apart of his elaborate facade that he puts on to make friends or wow girls. He was clever and precise with his lies until he wasn't. I started questioning the inconsistencies and why he seemed to invite me over and then run. I spent more time by myself on that god forsaken boat than I did with him. In the end his lies caught up to him. He knew he couldn't keep up the act. He knew I was clever and would eventually catch on. I wallowed in self pity for two months until that pity and pain turned to hatred and anger. It was that moment that I realized I thought I needed someone to love me but I just needed to see my own self worth and love myself. It was a hard journey and to be honest I'm still on it and yet I feel free. So let me explain how I started falling in love with myself.

I hear the mocking bird chirp, louder than ever before, as my words of honesty flow like a symbol of infinity. Bringing healing to those who resonate with the intentional purpose of none other. Love.

When it comes to the "perfect" body type we all have similar opinions on what we think society wants. Wether it be an hourglass figure, thigh gap, a small waist, etc... Most of the photos and images we see online highly influence us and not only change our perspective on weight, but how we see ourself. Nowadays I feel like body positivity is becoming such an important thing as people are still trying to fit in to these fake ideals on what is the perfect body. I feel it’s important for more people to truly understand how they don’t need to try out the new "one meal" diet or try the new "lose 5 pounds in a day" workout as a way for them to loose the fat they so highly despise. So many people are caught up in their appearance and it’s not only holding them back from great opportunities but it’s effecting their mental health in the long run. It’s going to be difficult at first to accept that you don’t need to force yourself into becoming what you see as perfect to fit in because you are already and always will be the ideal body type. And finding the confidence to accept that won’t come easily but having skinny legs, cellulite, curves, or a flat chest just makes you perfect as an individual and just doing you confidently makes you one of the most beautiful people around. Don’t feel pressured into becoming something you're not because you're already amazing.