The winter season has always been challenging for me. Over the years I’ve started to learn more about myself and my mental health which has made things a little easier, but I still feel like I’m fighting an uphill battle. To me, the months between November and March present a challenge I’m not always prepared to fight.
I’ve managed to figure out November and December (loving Christmas certainly helps) and January is starting to figure itself out, but February…I don’t get February. Because no matter how, no matter when, at some point during this month, I break. My mental health feels like it’s at it’s lowest point, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Why does February always get to me?
Don’t get me wrong; my mental health is a challenge all months of the year. But the characteristics of each month (or season, when I think about it) are often helpful or hurtful for my mental health. I’ve learned that I’m someone impacted by the weather, someone who likes having a few things to do but doesn’t need a packed schedule. Knowing what’s going on around me is important and when that’s not happening, I can get anxious.
So when I think about it, February really is the perfect amalgamation of a lot of these things. Weather that fluctuates between winter and spring (some years bring a blizzard, while one day last week saw the temperature reach 80 degrees Fahrenheit). There aren’t many holidays (depends on if you celebrate Valentine’s Day), and there’s a President’s Day holiday tossed in that gives most people a random Monday off – but not so many people you’re certain what’s going on. Couple these things with it being the shortest month of the year (and the Leap Year situation) and there’s just a lot I don’t understand.
It feels like things in February are just done arbitrarily, as though anything that happens this month could happen any other month of the year; we’ve just chosen this one. I know I’m being a little hyperbolic but also, this is a conclusion I’ve come to after multiple years of facing the same struggle. I hope one year I figure things out but for now, it’s just good to get my feelings out on what seems to be a challenging time of the year. Onward to March!
This entire post could just be a venting session about how much I struggle during this month, but I wonder if people feel the same way about a certain time of the year. Is there a week/month/season during the year that you feel like has your number? A time that you know is going to be super challenging simply due to the fact that it exists? I don’t know if I’ll always feel this way, but it’s how I’m starting to feel about February. Let me know in the comments what you think, I’d love to know that I’m not alone here!
Earlier this week, I wrote about intrusive thoughts, what they look like, and what we can do about them. Intrusive thoughts can be hard to recognize – I went years before I even knew what they were – but we can deal with them and manage them in a healthy way. There are many ways to deal with intrusive thoughts, and I wanted to share some of the best ways I’ve found of doing so.
Name and label these thoughts as quickly as possible. One of the reasons intrusive thoughts can run wild in our minds is because we can’t figure out what’s going on. I’ve had so many thoughts that I wasn’t able to recognize or name as intrusive; that’s years of moments where a false narrative about who I am and what I’m about ran wild. Labeling intrusive thoughts as intrusive, as unwelcome and unwanted, as soon as you can will go a long way toward mental wellness.
Remind yourself that these thoughts are intrusive, and that not all your thoughts are up to you. I used to believe that every thought I had was a conscious decision on my part. I’d like to say that this was because I was young, or even a kid, but it’s mostly because of the misconception I had surrounding my brain and my thoughts. Not all of our thoughts have to mean anything, and most don’t. But when intrusive thoughts come in, it’s important to have that reminder in the moment so that things don’t fester and grow within us.
Don’t expect the thoughts to disappear in the blink of an eye. As much as I’d like to tell you that intrusive thoughts disappear when you acknowledge them, that’s unlikely to happen. In fact, awareness of an issue can often make things challenging in the short-term (something I’ve continuously learned in therapy this year). But even if it feels like there’s no progress being made, there is. You’re becoming stronger and more resistant to the false narratives in your head, and hopefully gaining mental strength in the process.
Acknowledge that there might be an underlying problem. While intrusive thoughts are associated with several mental health disorders, they can also be triggered by stress, anxiety or trauma in our lives. They can be short-term or long-term problems for people but either way, there might be something going on outside of these thoughts that we need to deal with. In fact, many people who deal with intrusive thoughts aren’t dealing with a mental health disorder, according to experts.
Remember that your thoughts are not who you are. People have thoughts, but they are not what make us. Accepting a thought that we’re having does not make us evil, rude, mean or a bad person. Pushing thoughts down, trying to ignore them and not deal with them, do nothing to make those difficult moments pass. Oftentimes, those thoughts will just come back bigger and badder than before. You are so much more than intrusive thoughts that might come and go every so often. In the grand scheme of things, intrusive thoughts can exist as they are – thoughts that come and go just like thousands, or even millions, of others in the course of our lives.
We can’t choose to have intrusive thoughts, but we can choose how we engage with them. The better prepared we are to go up against them, the better chance we have of building a mentally healthy foundation against intrusive thoughts, and other lesser-known aspects of health and wellness.
Have you ever dealt with intrusive thoughts? What’s a piece of advice you have for someone who’s had intrusive thoughts before? Let me know in the comments! Have a great weekend, friends.
Over the years, I’ve learned a number of words, phrases and definitions that have helped me understand my own mental health. Some of these are connected to mental illness or medicine, while others are connected to mental wellness. In this recurring series, I break down some of the mental health terms I’ve learned over the years. Today, I’ll be breaking down intrusive thoughts: what they are, what they look like and what we can do about them.
What are Intrusive Thoughts?
I spent many years experiencing intrusive thoughts without knowing what they were. Even once I learned about them, I still had trouble understanding them. The definition of intrusive thoughts is quite simple, but dealing with them can feel far more complicated. According to Healthline, intrusive thoughts “are unexpected images or thoughts that seem to pop into your head. They’re often strange or distressing. But these thoughts happen to almost everyone from time to time.”
It’s not always easy to spot intrusive thoughts, or to name them when they happen. In fact, not knowing how to name these sort of thoughts can lead someone to assuming that’s just how their mind works. But intrusive thoughts are often unpleasant and unwanted, and that lack of desire for a thought you may have is a good sign that you’re experiencing an intrusive thought. This can also lead people to feeling ashamed or wanting to control/stop these thoughts, which can lead to spirals and other mental health issues.
What Do Intrusive Thoughts Look Like?
Intrusive thoughts are just that – thoughts. There’s an instinct to believe that every thought we have matters or to worry about what they mean, but they’re just thoughts. Our brains have (on average) around 6,000 thoughts per day and for a lot of people, most of those thoughts are pleasant or just nondescript. But it’s these intrusive thoughts – which can often feel scary because they are dark or violent, or full of worry or doubt – that have a habit of sticking with us. These are the thoughts we can’t let go of if we’re not careful.
When I think about identifying intrusive thoughts, there are two criteria I look out for:
Did this thought feel unwelcome/unwanted? Was I thinking about something else, or anything at all, when this thought popped into my head?
Is the content unpleasant, or something that feels vastly different from what we usually think about?
When I can identify these sort of patterns when it comes to a thought (or a set of thoughts), I can recognize them as intrusive and begin to deal with them.
What Can We Do About It?
The more I write these blog posts, the more I end up stressing that the most important part of understanding any of these terms is awareness. This is especially true with intrusive thoughts. Without knowing what to call these thoughts or recognize when they happen, things can feel scary. We can begin to think that those thoughts are who we are, or that they aren’t intrusive and they just are part of us. But we need to push back against this narrative and build a new one.
Thoughts are just thoughts, and if they aren’t interfering with your daily life or make a person feel like they need to take action, they can be harmless. But it’s important to name and define the various aspects of our mental health, even if we don’t deal with all of them. The mental health stigma grows when we’re afraid or unable to talk about our problems. We still might be afraid of these problems when we name them, but at least we know what we’re up against.
TW: This post discusses suicide and suicide-related topics
“Suicide doesn’t end the chances of life getting worse, it eliminates the possibility of it ever getting better” (unknown)
An unfortunate circumstance, suicide is a terrible, global anomaly from which 700,000-800,000 people die each year worldwide. Additionally, for every person who has died from suicide, twenty more people have attempted it. Globally, 77% of suicides occur in low to middle-income countries, with one tragedy ending in death every 40 seconds. In 2019, suicide was the 17th leading cause of death in the world, accounting for 1.3% of all deaths worldwide.. Now that is a frightening fact, and hopefully eye-opening to how serious it is.
Over the years, I have experienced my own struggles with suicide and have attempted it several times. All were scary, tragic, and disappointing. Scary that I almost died, tragic that I felt so desperate that I had no other option, and disappointed in myself that I gave up and gave in. But the most painful and heartbreaking was the death of my brother, who died by suicide in the fall of 2014.
As if it was yesterday, I remember every moment surrounding his demise—the breath that I took, the tears that I cried. I held onto every word my mother spoke over the phone; as she whispered that “he is gone,” my knees gave forth, and I crashed to the ground. Watching my life collapse around me, a trickling card house so easily demolished. I swore to my mother that “she was lying” because it couldn’t be true. I didn’t want to accept the pain or the death.
He just called me a few hours ago, and I missed the call. Every day of my life, I wonder what he would have said. The last words to leave his lips. Was there something I could have spoken to change his mind? Rewind time and make it go away. Suicide not only affects its victims but affects millions of people each year. All are wondering the very same thing I have wondered for countless hours on end. Could they have made a difference?
The same dream replays in my mind repeatedly. I don’t know if I’m awake or asleep anymore. Kyle, my brother, and I are running through our neighbor’s cow field. Sunset passes over the trees, and beautiful yellow beams of light pass through the leaves. Everything passes in slow motion, and I watch myself running; I turn around and yell to my brother, “hurry up, come on, Kyle” as I reach out to touch the soft grass blades, letting them scratch the surface of my hand. Kyle appears from around a tall oak tree, yelling after me to “wait up” I smile and laugh, and we run off together into the field beyond the sunset. Then I wake up, and he is gone. Everyone grieves in different ways, be in the moment and remember the beautiful life.
Suicide affects the victim’s life and everyone who loves that person. It is a negative trickling effect on family, friends, and the community. Many of them are left asking themselves, “Why.” You may start with a feeling first of initial SHOCK, with total numbness, and inability to function. Often followed by DENIAL of the facts of the demise or the overall death. This can be both alarming and difficult because we often don’t know the facts and are left with too many unanswered questions.
Many times, this is followed by GUILT. I know I felt a pang of extreme guilt after my younger brother’s suicide. You are feeling the need to protect them and that I failed at that. Desperately I wished I had heard the phone ring. I don’t think anyone could ever imagine what contemplating suicide or suffering through suicide feels like. Just imagining is painful enough.
We of course feel SADNESS, the dark wings that are spread over you that you fight to get out from under. Or maybe you don’t, maybe the sadness is too much, and you give in. Don’t fight these feelings, because fighting them only prolongs the process. Facing it hurts, but trust me, hiding from it hurts more in the long run. It is human nature to blame oneself when dealing with a tragedy, rather than accept that some things are out of our control.
Sometimes we feel ANGER, mad that it happened, frustrated that they seemed to let it happen, and overall rage that we couldn’t stop it or grasp an understanding of how it even came to this. How this person felt there was no way out. That saddened me for my brother, and others like him, because they felt trapped within their own minds. Unable to escape a pain so deep that they could not bare another breath or one more beat of their heart.
Lastly, usually, and in your own time, you will feel acceptance. Accepting that they’re gone, admission of your feelings, and acknowledging that some things are out of your hands. You cannot control anyone or anything, but yourself and your own actions. You can choose how to respond, you can choose to get help, you can choose to work through your feelings and find hope. I can’t give you a secure timeline of how long you will walk this road, I can’t even promise the pain will go away.
It’s been eight years since my brother took his own life and two years since I tried to take my own. The pain is still there, I shed tears for my loss and sadness and feel disappointment and anger life has taken me down this path. But I keep going, I keep working, whatever I can do, and try to make the pain lessen with each passing day. I grow stronger, and brighter and gain a better understanding of why what happened did.
Helping others always helped me, seeing something in someone I once saw in myself and knowing ways to help them is an enormous spiritual uplifter. Find what it is that helps you, spread the word to end mental stigma, speak out and speak up. Don’t fight this battle alone when there are so many like you that can help lighten the load. There are people all over the world that could learn something from your struggles. Maybe it will ease their pain for them. Seek out the light, among the darkness. You are not alone.
*Please be advised that I’m not a doctor, but a survivor. You should always seek help from a licensed practitioner. Below are great sources for help and information.
The author, Ashley Cote, is a single mom, born and raised in New England, in a small town in Vermont. After attending college for nursing, she found that writing was her true love and passion. She has two beautiful daughters who inspire her creativity in writing every day.
I was reflecting on my last few posts about goals and goal-setting when a thought popped into my head. I feel like once or twice a year, I get fixated on goal-setting and self-improvement. It’s a mixture of reflection and idealism. I try to think up better strategies for my goals and ways to achieve them. At the same time, I know that there are many circumstances that get in my way, some of which are of my own making. But there’s another aspect of goal-setting that I only recently discovered and that’s what I’d like to talk about today.
Mental health, like many things in life, has its ups and downs. There are some weeks when I feel like everything is working in my favor; my schedule has a flow, and I know what I’m doing. Other weeks…not so much. There’s mix between order and chaos, busy and bored, with most of my time somewhere in between these extremes.
I’ve gained a pretty decent sense of when I’m in the midst of an up or down, but there are times where things feel tricky. One of these times (that I’ve been able to identify ) is when I feel like things could be on an upswing.
There are many reasons why a person could feel like they’re on an upswing. Maybe you’re doing well at work, or enjoying a newfound relationship with someone. You might think you’re entering a new phase of life and hoping to settle in to what’s to come.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with thinking I could be on an upswing. It’s happened before and I know it will happen again. Sometimes it’s because of what’s going on around me. Other times, it’s simply a feeling and that’s where I run into trouble.
When I’m on the verge of being in this upswing, I feel like anything I do that get’s in the way of success is a massive road block. I’m almost afraid to set a goal because of the possibility I won’t achieve it. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter how big or small the goal is; it’s the fear of not achieving it that gets in the way.
Setting and achieving goals doesn’t have to have as much weight as I give it. Every goal I make doesn’t have to make-or-break my mental health, my psyche or my wellness. If I reach my goals I should revel in the accomplishment but if I fall short, I don’t want to be so dejected that I give up. Getting on an upswing isn’t just about what I do; it’s about my frame of mind in doing it. The more I can change and improve this approach, the more possible and common these upswings can be.
I’m writing this post on the heels of what I wrote earlier this week, about the challenges of setting goals. I don’t know how, but in the last few years I’ve become fascinated with the concept of goal-setting. It might be the aspirational aspect of it, of self-improvement and wanting to get better. It could be that I enjoy the boost of serotonin I get when I accomplish that goal (however big or small). But I think what outranks all of that is how my goals remind me of who I am and who I want to be.
When it comes to my mental wellness, one of the most important things I can do is remind myself that I’m a person. I’m a living, breathing, doing-things-and-living-life person. Life has a way of remembering for us but I appreciate the ability to remind myself, too. The reason this is so important to me is because in the doldrums of every-day life, it can be easy to forget.
Our uniqueness can be lost or forgotten not only by others, but also ourselves. There are many ways I could describe who I am and what I’m about but above all, I’m a person. Not only that, but I am unique. I’m unique in my personality, in my likes and dislikes, in what I’m passionate about and what I choose to do. And that matters.
This uniqueness also means that my goals are unique. The things I want to accomplish, the goals I want to set and meet are unique to who I am and what my life is like right now. My goals don’t have to be realistic for anyone else except who I am, in this moment. And just like other habits and techniques for my mental health, these goals can change.
I know I can sound like a broken record at times, but that’s for a good reason. For many people, mental health is a challenge we face every single day. We face a challenge of getting out of bed in the morning. We face a challenge of choosing to engage with the world, even when we don’t know if we’re up to it. We face a challenge of acknowledging when our mental health is in a bad place, and when we need help.
All day long, people face challenges that they can either engage with and ignore. For people experiencing mental illness, the luxury to ignore isn’t always possible. There’s a chance that I accomplish my goals for today. That I can do everything I set out to do despite the ways my mental health might challenge me. But in the same way, there’s an equal chance that those challenges will exist again tomorrow. That’s why I lean on who I am. I lean on the person I want to be, and the person I am now. Mental illness can depersonalize us, it can make us not feel real. But I am, you are, we are, and we’ll continue down this road together.
When it comes to living a mental healthy life, setting goals can be a good way to build a strong foundation. Whether your goals inspire massive change or a small shift, setting a goal is an opportunity. I’ll be honest – I don’t always take that opportunity. Achieving goals can be hard, but creating them can be difficult too. It’s hard to try and improve on something when you aren’t quite sure how to get there. So how can we get better at setting goals if the process can leave us so confused?
When I put forth an ambitious goal, there are immediately challenges that pop up before I can even begin. If I’m lucky, I know what I’m trying to do, but struggle in figuring out how to get there. More often, what happens is that not only are the steps toward achieving that goal vague, but so is the goal itself.
Balancing mental health can be challenging. Sometimes it can feel like we’re treading water, just trying to keep ourselves afloat. If your goal is to get from one day to the next (or sometimes from moment to moment) how can you improve outside of that? Regardless of how you tackle it, it’s hard work.
When all of this swirls around in my head, it usually leads to one thing: feeling overwhelmed. I lose train of my thoughts, or I have difficulty creating any original thoughts. My intrusive thoughts can take over, or I start to feel a pounding headache. I immediately feel the impact and know that I can’t move forward in that moment, which is very frustrating.There’s a quote from Martin Luther King Jr. that I often think of in moments like this: “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” And even when faith is an issue – faith in something else, or even faith in ourselves – that first step is vital. Improving our mental health doesn’t always happen by leaps and bounds. Most times, it happens one step at a time. Sometimes we know what the steps are along the way but other times, it’s a mystery.
But building a strong foundation means that a setback doesn’t always been a step back. Sometimes we’re just stuck on a particular step, trying to sort out what the next move is. I like to think of setting goals in the same way. I tend to get stuck on a lot of things (mental illness can do that to a person), but I’m tired of beating myself up over it. I don’t need to figure out what works for just anyone; I need to figure out what works best for me.
However you go about your goals this week, I hope you can keep these things in mind. You are unique and special in your own way, and that means your process might look different than someone else’s. In fact, it might look different than the way you’ve done it previously. That’s okay! Each of these moments is a chance to get to know yourself better, to learn and grow as a person. And I’ll try to take those moments as often as I can.
Here it is, yet another blog post inspired by a song from Celine Dion. The song in question is “Taking Chances,” which is a single from the 2007 album of the same name. Apart from being another powerful ballad that we came to know and love from Celine (I’m definitely on a Celine Dion kick, it is what it is), the song has lyrics that ask questions and inspire introspection:
But, what do you say to taking chances, What do you say to jumping off the edge? Never knowing if there’s solid ground below Or a hand to hold, or hell to pay What do you say What do you say
“Taking Chances” by Celine Dion
There are a lot of ways to interpret the message of that song but today, I’d like to share how that song connects to our mental health and how sometimes, taking chances can be very challenging.
Earlier this week I wrote about challenges of complacency when it comes to our mental health. I’m not one for being complacent, but I also don’t think that we should view complacency in a simplistic way. People work very hard to build, or maintain, a healthy attitude toward mental health and wellness. There is a difference between becoming complacent, and sticking with certain things because they’ve been helpful for your mental health.
I know decisions can be more complicated than that, but I think it’s an important point to raise. Complacency can occur when we’re comfortable with where we are, despite opportunities to improve that standing. Not wanting to give up mental stability doesn’t qualify as being complacent — at least in the way we understand it. There’s a nuance to complacency that should be acknowledged, but it doesn’t excuse everything.
All of this leads me to the song I mentioned at the beginning of this post. There are several ways to interpret the message of this song; it could be about taking chances in love, with our relationships, with making changes to our lives, etc. But it’s hard for me to think about taking chances in the context of my mental health. So many of us have spent years trying to get better, to find a place of safety and stability. Even if there’s a possibility of making our situations better, there’s a fear that we won’t take a step forward. And what’s even more nerve-wracking is in that attempt, we could actually take a few steps back.
But I think that there’s an aspect of taking chances that we don’t always talk about. When I take a chance to improve my mental health, I don’t want to be afraid. If that chance doesn’t work out, I want to be able to return to where I was. Anxiety, depression and other mental illnesses have the ability to create false narratives within ourselves and if we fall into the habit of listening to them, they can make us feel like every chance not taken is a big failure.
I want to take more chances, but a big part of that is preparing for the possibility that the chance might not work for me. And that’s okay. We won’t succeed all the time but, bit by bit, we will grow in ways that are meaningful and make our lives richer. So what do you say?
Taking chances isn’t always as easy as it sounds. What are some reasons that stop you from taking a chance on something? Why do you think others might do the same? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
There have been many moments along my mental health journey where I’ve felt like I’ve failed. I don’t quite know how I’m failing or in what way, but I feel that I am. There’s a sense of impending doom, a fear that I am not living up to my potential, that I’m not accomplishing enough. Enough what? you might ask. To be honest, I don’t know what to tell you. This desire to be enough, to do enough isn’t only tied to what I’m hoping to gain. It’s also about what I’m hoping to avoid. There’s a fear of complacency about my mental health that I never want to test, and that is what I’d like to share today.
What does it mean to be complacent?
Complacency is a challenging word for me. It’s one of the many concepts that are difficult for a young person to grasp, despite how often people use the word. From what I could tell, I was trying my hardest at the things I tried growing up and avoiding complacency. I played sports, I tried my best in school and I tried to take something from the hobbies and activities I wasn’t as talented at.
But in those younger years, the idea of complacency never came up. It was when I was older that I heard adults talking about it, about the desire to to never settle. Complacency breeds failure, I was told. Being complacent will get in the way of winning. The fears of complacency were drilled into me as a teenager and young adult and I think these effects still resonate with me today.
I understand that there are plenty of areas in life where it’s not good to be complacent. That desire to strive and be the best at what we do is understandable. But what about in our mental health? What does it mean to be complacent with our mental health, and is that a good or bad thing?
What complacency means to me
Many of us have worked hard to get where we are with our mental health. It’s taken days, months and years of learning, understanding and trying to grow in ways that help us live healthier lives. We find what works and learn what doesn’t, but each new thing we learn is valuable. If I find something that works for my mental wellness, I want to build around it and make it part of my routine. I want my mental health to be as consistent as possible but given all I’ve been told in my life, that sounds eerily similar to complacency.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s not about complacency at all. It’s possible that mental illness can exacerbate my fear of complacency, or get in the way of it. I confuse a lot of things in life with anxiety and depression, and vice versa. It’s affected my relationship with happiness and joy, fear and panic. It’s changed how I see agitation and aggravation. But that’s okay. It’s all part of me. If I keep that desire to figure out my mental health challenges and move forward, I know I’m not being complacent. I’m simply doing the best I can with what I have which in my mind, is the opposite of being complacent.
Now, over to you! Do you have any sort of feelings about the word complacency? Is it a useful word in your life or (like me) do you struggle with it? Let me know in the comments!
After writing earlier this week about how my mental health catches me off guard, I wanted to build on that message and have some tips and techniques for people to use when the same thing happens to them. But before I could dive into that, I had a few thoughts that were nagging at me. I understood how these things catch me off guard, but I couldn’t understand why. Doesn’t everyone have thoughts that distract them? I’d guess that some of the thoughts and feelings I struggle with are similar to ones that many people have. So why do they have such a big impact on me? Before I can tackle the how, I needed to tackle the why – which is what I’m writing about today.
Dealing with depression and anxiety often involves dealing with intrusive thoughts on a regular basis. I’ll be going about my day, maybe getting lost in a task at work or one of my hobbies, and then a thought will pop into my head. Most of my energy is spent dealing with the thought itself; I do some thinking about whether or not the thought is true or accurate. Sometimes it’s decoding a thought to realize it’s not even rational, or the fear I have is logically impossible.
But what often sticks with me isn’t always the contents of the thought I have. What tends to stick around are the feelings that these thoughts have instilled in me. I don’t always remember the thought process that made me feel sad; all I know is that in that moment, I’m sad. The same goes for times when I’m feeling anxious, restless or depressed. The feeling lingers well beyond these thoughts. If I’m not vigilant, those feelings can fester and grow much stronger simply by refusing to go away.
I think a big part of why these feelings linger, and why I feel so caught off guard sometimes, is that I don’t always accept what’s happening. Even after a decade of dealing with anxiety and depression, my brain’s instinct is still to reject any unpleasant or unwelcome thought that pops into my brain. My first instinct is to try to get rid of the thought as quickly as possible, and to get rid of it on my own terms. It’s a fight-or-flight response that does the opposite of its intended effect. Rather than making the thoughts/feelings disappear, the instinct of rejection allows them to stick around longer than they would have, creating a cycle that feels impossible to manage.
Writing this also got me thinking about the role fear plays into our mental health. Fear of the unknown (which I’ve written about before), but also fear what we’ve already been through. Sometimes, my intrusive thoughts can remind me of an unpleasant or unsuccessful experience with my mental health and it can bring me back to that time. I feel stuck or lost in that moment, and I’m terrified of being back there again. Understanding why things impact us is just as valuable as how they impact us and the more we reflect on that, the more we learn – about our mental wellness and about ourselves.
