Since being diagnosed with anxiety and depression, I have become aware of the symptoms… at least I thought I was. I’m very much still on my healing journey, and sometimes, need someone outside of myself to tell me that my “check engine” light is on. 

Things were happening in my life, that irritated me, and made me sad, and annoyed. But I thought that it was just that. A normal reaction to life sucking. A side effect of adulting. 

Until my psychologist told me to make a call to my psychiatrist. And it switched on a light for me, highlighting to me that my “check engine” light was on… and flashing aggressively. And I was ignoring it, and continuing to drive far into the distance without stopping. My psychologist had to point it out to me that I am not ok. 

And then I started looking around. I was exercising, sure, but begrudgingly, and where I could cancel, I did. My eating was well, indulgent, to say the least. I was not reading (beep! beep! beep!), I was not writing. And worst of all, I spent all of my time at work complaining, not laughing (I mean, working) at work. I didn’t see it. I was depressed. More depressed than I had been in a very long time. 

When I finally saw the signs, I could do something about it. 

Thankfully, it coincided with a meditation course I was on. Meditation is one of those things that can really help. I didn’t realise how much, but once I became aware of my feelings, I could become aware of what they were doing in my body. And that is why mindfulness is so helpful for mental health, and how meditation can help to relieve some of those difficult emotions. 

Once I realised I had been mindlessly eating, I made a concerted effort to be mindful about my eating. I don’t always make the right choices, but at the very least I am making conscious choices. And that is important for me. Because you can only change something that you are aware of. 

I also had to watch uplifting content, and for a while I refused to allow myself to watch anything but comedies, but then I realised that my crime series was strangely uplifting because there was a resolution, and I enjoyed the problem-solving. Sometimes what is uplifting is strangely un-uplifting from the outside, but nevertheless, it’s whatever makes you happy. 

I made sure that I switched off all devices an hour before bedtime, to ensure I got a good night’s rest, which opened up an entire extra hour in my day for me to read. Which, in a virtuous circle, helped me to fall asleep faster too. (also, I put down the sad stories about people going through what I’m going through, and read inspiring stories, self-help books, and books about finding meaning). 

I also allowed myself to lean on others, and let them help and support me (a biggie). I didn’t have to do this all on my own. There was no shame in how I was feeling, and I had friends and family who were willing to listen to me and be there for me, whenever. (thanks, by the way)

And then there was writing – this blog, in fact. I spent some time researching the concept of self-worth, and it was a turning point for me. It made me realise that I was putting my worth into the wrong things, and giving away my power to issues and people who really didn’t deserve the power of the mind I was giving them. I have a lot to learn about self-worth, and a long way to go before I truly realise my self-worth, but the car is in the shop, while I continue on this journey (ok, this analogy isn’t really working out, but you get the idea).