My Friend, Anxiety.

Hi beautiful people ❤

It’s been a while; I have been swept up in the whirlwind that is the finality of year 12. I won’t bore you all with the details but yes, it has been a rollercoaster, physically and emotionally and mentally and intellectually and spiritually. The whole lot. But I’ve had a lot of beautiful people here backing me up, both from my family and loved ones, and on the social world of Instagram.

Anyway. What has sparked my motivation to share with all of you after so long… this evening, I’ve been searching through my old short pieces of story writing. And I read over something that I’d forgotten about. It captivated my attention and I’d really like to share it with you all… because it is something I feel resonates with me still, so deeply.

It is how I perceive the small, scared girl of Anxiety within me, who seems terrifying, but really just wants to be heard and loved. It’s a beautiful way to look at it, I thought. So here it goes…

~*~

My Friend, Anxiety.

Sometimes I wonder what the girl I am would be like without my anxiety. All the flaws inside my head. Gone. I look out at this one blinking star right ahead of me, and wonder, all those light years away, if it sees another life. What am I doing? I like to think that I’m riding free somewhere, atop this beautiful big horse I can only see in my dreams. Flying over the ground, churning the earth up in his great hooves as he was born to do. Like he should do. Mane and tail streaming behind him in an elegant storm of earth and wind and fire and horse. And I am just there, moving along with him, faster than even time can travel us.

But then, I know, that she wouldn’t really be me. Because she doesn’t have the anxiety. She doesn’t have the things that make her… well, me. My God, it causes me pain. Sometimes it’s just a shiver, or the uncomfortable sensation that crawls over my fingers as they go numb while I type something up at 1:09am in the morning on a winter’s night. But other times… you have no idea. It’s like I can’t breathe. It’s like someone, or some much stronger force than ever known to mankind, is forcing me down under water. And to stay there. Without any release. It feels like I’m suffocating. It feels like I’m drowning and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to reach the surface. It feels like I’m going to die. I’m going to die and no one is going to care. No one is going to notice my absence, or come looking for me. The itching feeling at the back of their minds that they’re forgetting something, like a tinned can of corn they left at the supermarket, will eventually buzz away. And I will be left to drown, to suffocate, to die on my own.

But despite this pain. Despite this awful sensation that I can’t explain, this instinct that I am going to die. Despite everything inside my head. The whirlwind of emotions, the spiralling storms and cyclones of thoughts that devastate any sliver of peace I’ve managed to form, so that I have to start again from scratch. Despite any of this… there is beauty in it. There is beauty in my friend Anxiety. Yes, she is my friend. I smile when I think of her like that. This little me, small and scared and thinking she is so alone, tucked away in the corner of my mind, just wanting to be heard, and fearing being found out at the same time. But she is so beautiful… she doesn’t realise it. And she is a part of me. I will never leave her, nor she me. I will be there with her forever, even when no one believes her, or the world is against her. She will always have me to keep her safe. To tell her that it’s all okay. That no bloody wonder she gets herself worked up over this funny little thing called life. Because it’s hard! And I totally get that. I get that as much as anyone else who thinks to themselves; “hey, this is a little weird, don’t you think? That we all seem so relaxed, when we really shouldn’t? Because who knows why we’re here? We don’t! Or is it just me?”

But I will also never leave her, or criticise her, or put her in the wrong, or leave her in the dark, because she creates the beauty in me. Because with all her existential sufferings, her painstakingly agonising questions, her dragged out insomnia, her irrational fears, come all her big ideas. Her desire to create something so big and beautiful and completely unbeknownst to man. Her huge heart and immense compassion for the souls around her. Her productive highs, with all these large and wonderful aspirations and wonders and revelations, these sparks to begin something anew, to accomplish so much. There comes her creativity. Her passion. Her drive. Her spirit.

And, would you believe this… her will to live.

She just wants someone to love her. To hold her when she is shaking and quivering in life’s too-strong grip, and tell her that everything will be okay. No words or advice needed. She doesn’t need someone to make it better; she has to do that on her own. She just needs someone to listen, and to understand, and to just hold and comfort her. To tell her that she isn’t alone. To appreciate her. To see the beauty in her, the beautiful things she can create and is capable of with her flaws, like I see in her. To simply – and nothing more – be there, along with her on this journey that Anxiety and I have to take. Not to direct us… but to reassure me that I have someone who is here with me.

I feel all of this and more, because she is a part of me.

We are one. We complement one another, in both our highs and lows. One cannot survive without the other. It’s beautiful though, really; not tragic like some would think. It is like a young superhero learning to harness her dangerous and unpredictable powers, which will eventually bloom into something so much more beautiful… something so much more elegant… something she can use to her advantage, if she can just find inner balance.

We are learning to harness our power. Slowly but surely. And until then, even if it takes the rest of my life, I will stay by her on this journey, and she will me, even when no one else will… until she is ready to let go, and to flourish on her own, in peace.

❤

The Girl in the Photo (An Early 2019 New Year’s Resolution)

Today I want to talk to you all about the girl in this photo.

This photo was taken around this time last year. Nearing Christmas, having just finished school term for the year and taking a long deserved break, this girl was on her way to Melbourne to visit her well-missed family, whom she hadn’t seen in a few years. This photo was taken by her father, who had driven her up to the airport in the early morning, sending her off with love and well wishes. This photo was taken right before she left to board her plane. Alone. Hunched over, embracing her pillow in a lung-crushing embrace, scared to let it go out of fear she would become imbalanced and topple over. Smiling awkwardly and shyly, painfully, to try and mask how absolutely terrified she was feeling in that moment.

Admittedly, this girl was petrified of heights. She had been on planes before, but not for a long time, and never without the comforting presence of her parents right beside her. She had also been watching a TV series called Lost around this time, whose story plot revolved around an airplane crash.

But I know, looking back on this photo, taken a little over a year ago, this wasn’t all that this girl was afraid of.

This girl was afraid of loss.
This girl was afraid of the inexplicable fear that gripped her daily.
This girl was afraid of the despairing emptiness that so clutched at her heart.
This girl was afraid of herself.

How many nights did she spend tucked away in a corner, weeping to be rid of her thoughts? I cannot say; there were so many, she must have lost track. How long did she let herself suffer, by sitting in her silence? For too long. So much to say, yet so much left unsaid. Why did she hate herself, despise every inch of her outer and inner self, when she still gave so freely to others? Why did she feel the need to conceal all that was sure to burst out of her sooner or later? Because it was going to happen. And it did.

I guess I will never know the answers to these questions. What I do know, however, is that I now need to put these questions behind me. I need to let this poor girl go. Because this girl was me. But she is not anymore.

A year ago today, I was so afraid of myself. So afraid that I was ashamed. I was ashamed to be who I was. I was ashamed to have such dark and horrible thoughts about myself, when everyone around me was telling me how great I was. “Why can’t I just believe them? Why can’t I just be great like they say I am?” I don’t know, beautiful. I really don’t. I don’t know what was barring me from accepting who I was. All I know is that something bad was eating away at me last year. It had been gnawing on me since an early age, and last year I finally started to feel its effects. I started to feel like I was becoming the monster that once fed off of me.

The year of 2017 was a dark place for me. Everything was numb. I felt hopeless, worthless, devoid of colour. I wanted so desperately to be rid of myself. To just get out. The year of 2018 brought me some of my most difficult obstacles to overcome yet. It also brought me some of the most breathtaking scenery, and life-lasting memories that I will never forget and will sustain me until I’m old. The year of 2018 brought me out of my dark hole, but it took me to such extreme highs that it in turn caused me to come barrelling down – not back into my hole, but to the ground, with such force that it often knocked the wind out of me and left me paralysed. Left me to pick up my shattered pieces again and again and again and again. It was an oscillating graph, a fluctuating rollercoaster that did not stop even when I begged and pleaded for it to.

The year of 2019, however, is like a light, drawing closer and closer to me. This present year saw me at my highest moments and my most extreme lows, and left me exhausted for most of it. But this year has also made me stronger. It’s made me hungry. Hungry to change. Not out of hate for myself; to change for the good. Hungry to make a difference. Hungry to make something of myself. Hungry to learn. Hungry to be hungry. The year of 2017 left me broken. The year of 2018 left me devastated. But the year of 2019, will be my year. I can feel it in my pulse.

The change in myself that I am most amazed at, however, is over the past 5 months. 5 months ago, I was still scared of myself. Still loathing to be in my own skin. Still living in fear. It is over these 5 months that I officially began my journey of self-recovery. It is over these 5 months that I discovered the true meaning and importance of self-compassion, and how to build it for myself. It is over these 5 months that I realised my worth as a human being and a young woman, that I realised just how freaking awesome that I am. And you know what? I truly believe that I kicked the year of 2018 in the ass. This year threw me to the ground so many times, and every single time I got right back up. Whether I got back up with a hardened stare and square shoulders, or I got back up crying and damaged for all to see, I don’t care. Because I STILL GOT BACK UP. (Take that, mental illness.)

I am still learning to love myself. There are some days where I am totally in love both with my body and who I am inside, but there are also some days where I feel like I sink back into my hole of self-loathing. And that’s okay. Recovery is not linear. Recovery is guaranteed to come with relapses. What I have learnt in the past 5 months, is that this is okay.

Looking back on this photo, and even looking back on the girl I was 5 months ago, I am blown away by how much I’ve changed, for the better. I have not changed the person I am inside, but I have become so much stronger, so much more resilient, and I am so proud of myself (though I am still terribly afraid of heights!). Dare I say it, but I am proud of this fragile girl who was once me. I owe all of this to her, after all, for she was the one who opted for my recovery. And I thank her for it.

So, this is my new year’s resolution: 2019 is going to be my year. What I mean by this, is that I am no longer going to hide in fear. I am going to start putting myself first. I am going to be more aware and conscious of myself in that I do not put too much on my plate even if I feel at the time like I can handle it, and to focus not just my studies but all aspects of my life in important areas instead of just trying to do everything like I did in 2018, which is what broke me a thousand times over. And I am going to more frequently devote set time for myself, really devote time for myself, where I can just appreciate sitting with my thoughts, and do what I like to call ‘checking in with myself’. But most importantly, I am going to accept me for who I am, anxiety and depression and flaws and all, no matter what. Because I am doing the best I can.

Yes. 2019 will be my year. Because I am the stronger Breanna, the Breanna with fire in her soul rather than an empty matchbox.

And you know what, my loves?

2019 is your year, too. Whatever you make out of it. ❤

Things that Help Me Sail Safely Across My Depressive Episodes <3

Hello lovely people!

Today I am sinking into yet another depressive episode. I woke up just not feeling too great in general, and by midday was crying in the bathtub after my shower for no reason.

To describe to you what I’m feeling right now would be a convoluted mess, but to sum it up in one word is this: heaviness. Everything feels heavy. I feel heavy. I feel like every movement I am making is dragged out and exhausting. My thoughts are going round in circles, they keep coming back to the same thing, over and over: “No one is actually interested in you as a person, and if anyone cares right now they won’t for long, everyone is going to leave, they’re all lying to you, you are alone, you are nothing.” Over and over and over again.

I know these thoughts aren’t true. I have so many people who care for me in my life. But depression is very good at tricking us into believing the lies it feeds us. So even though I know they’re lies, it’s still hard to hear them right now.

Anyway. I thought I’d give myself something worthwhile to do, and use this draggy day to channel some inspiration to help anyone else who suffers from depressive episodes, whether they are caused by a trigger or, often in my case, come up just out of the blue. Today I am going to list all of the things that help me troop through my depressive episodes and keep the bad thoughts at bay! Whilst of course none of these things stop these thoughts, and I still need to brace myself for the long haul, they HELP. Key word: help. H. E. L. P. They aren’t a cure, simply things that relieve at least a little bit of tension, keep me comfortable, and remind me that I will eventually be ok. 🙂

Essential oils

These are only 2 of my mum’s essential oils, one that we share (White Angelica) and a blend made specifically for me (Triple P), and even though there are sooo many that I love and help me in different situations, these are my favourites! These 2 in particular help me when I’m sinking into a depressive episode. White Angelica is known for its ability to drive away negative energies, and helps with depression, anger, low blood pressure. Triple P acts as a hormonal balance that keeps my emotions in check and lessens the effects of depression on my outbursts, so it helps to stabilise me and keep me relatively calm. I rub the Triple P underneath my malleolus (the bony knob on the inside of my ankle) – you don’t actually have to smell it, it’s just an emotional release point – and White Angelica on my wrists and neck, so this one I CAN smell. If you’re interested on reading more about the different effects of essential oils (there are literally HUNDREDS!!) have a read on Young Living Essential Oils

2. Cuddling a Stuffed Animal Teddy

This is Floppy. He is my stuffed animal dog, $9 from Kmart. I’ve only had Floppy for one week, but in this week he has been a great help. All I have to do is squeeze him tightly to my chest, and my anxiety honestly feels as if it is seeping away from me. He helps provide an anchor for me, too, and relieve stress caused by insomnia, especially in the moment that I am struggling to sleep. He is helping a great deal right now with my depression too, giving me something stable to grip onto. If I’m honest with you, you are NEVER too old to cuddle a teddy. I have a whole bunch on my bed, but so far Floppy has proved to help the greatest. If you’re struggling with anything at all, I recommend getting a soft teddy to squeeze. Preferably a relatively large one, very soft, easy to squish, to ensure you get the best support possible! 😀

3. Mind & soul food!!!
IMG_E7720
Lately I have been feeling extremely guilty for the food that I am eating, and feeling low about my weight and body shape. So I have been making a conscious effort to be mindful of what my body craves, and allow myself to indulge (and at times, overindulge!) when I am feeling at my lowest (and even when I just feel like it!). That means: lots and LOTS of chocolate. Today I am really feeling the Dairy Milk & Black Forrest chocolate. And, of course, a cup of tea. This is my second one today. Along with actual food and drink, I allow myself to reconnect with food for my soul: ie. words. I love words. I love reading them, using them, whatever. So I make sure that when I am bed ridden in anxiety or depression or sickness, I have a good book by my side (today’s pick is Lord of the Rings) as well as some crossword puzzles or wordsearches to keep my mind active and detached from my own abusive thoughts. Both reading and word puzzles help to keep my mind afloat and from drifting into the sea of my downward spiral.

4. CATS!!!

Ah, one of my biggest sources of support when I’m not doing too good. My cats ❤ Stuffed teddies are great, but if you wanna know what’s even better, is real animals that seek you out when you’re feeling down (mine are literally drawn to the very vibe of sadness from miles and miles away) and ride through the pain with you no matter what. I almost always wake up with a cat or even a dog on my bed, cuddling into my side or curling up at my feet. Just the very presence of them, their warmth softly saying “I’m here” does wonders to lift or even simply ease my heaviness.

5. Leave a light on.

This is my favourite lamp. It sits on my desk right next to this mini poster that I made whilst I was stuck in another depressive episode (ah, that’s another thing that helps sometimes – art.) It provides the perfect soft, warm glow over my room especially at night and just settles a certain calmness inside of me whenever I see it lit up. Whenever I arrive home, I turn this lamp on straight away. It’s just part of my routine. I can see it from my bed, and it just reminds me that there are lights in my life, even if it doesn’t seem like it at times (cheesy I know).

6. Stay hydrated.

I always keep a drink bottle beside my bed. I know it’s such a cliche thing to suggest, and is literally used as a ‘solution’ for almost everything, but that’s because it’s TRUE! Staying hydrated is so important. It’s part of the boring self care after all. (I’ll delve into just what boring self care actually is one day, but for now, I’ll simply define it as basic and occasionally menial tasks that are crucial and of incredibly high benefit to keeping you alive and sustaining, at the very least. It is the very core basis of self care and the foundation to looking after your mind, by looking after your body first.)

7. Music.
Wild_World_album_cover
Music is so, so incredibly important to me. It’s kept me sane on the darkest and bleakest of times. It’s just something constant that is always there for me. Some days, I get to the point where I don’t know what to listen to, there are so many different varieties, that the indecisiveness of THAT can overwhelm me. But overall, music has helped me so much. I chose to feature the cover of this band because Bastille has always just stuck with me. There are a lot of songs I’ve gone through phases of, but Bastille’s music is just constant for me, I can listen to it at any time, and this album Wild World in particular is one that I immediately turn to when I am sinking into a depressive episode. The words they use is just so beautiful and I find myself singing along in no time.

8. Make a ‘happy box’.

Oh yes! My happy box ❤ This is something that I keep tucked away by my bed underneath by bedside table. It’s just full of seemingly random crap, but all of these things I have placed in here for a reason. Its contents include: bubble wrap, a mini accordion fold-out photo album containing photos of all my animals/friends/family, a stress squishie teddy, an old riding glove, my old kitten’s favourite toy, a feather from my little bird who sadly passed away a couple years ago, an Instax photo generator and some colourful markers and ribbons if I’m feeling creative, bubble wrap, ’emergency’ chocolate (for when I’m really in the shit), letters from my friends, a fake but pretty pink rose to remind me that there’s beauty in this world, a Harry Potter light up watch, and a heart ornament given to me by my Grandma whom I haven’t seen in a year. Yeah, maybe it is just junk. But it’s my junk, and when I open up this box in desperate times, there’s always bound to be at least just one thing that makes me smile.

So there you have it! My 8 tips for keeping afloat during a depressive episode… I understand that everyone is different, and so not all of these things may work for you. But that’s ok! Take your time! I do encourage you to find a few things that ease your depression even if it’s just a tiny bit. Because it really helps. Truly.

Another disclaimer that I MUST mention, too: These things do not ALWAYS help. They are NOT guaranteed, full-proof ways to rid me of my depression. I’ve been through countless episodes where I feel so hopeless that nothing seems to work. So when you get to that point, above all…

9. Remember that you are NOT alone.
People DO care about you.
You CAN do this.
I believe in you, and so should you.
This pain won’t last forever.
They are just thoughts. They cannot hurt you.
And you WILL get out of this, no matter what.

Love to you all ❤
Breanna xoxo

Another Blogger’s Note…

Hey everyone.

How are all of you doing?

I know it’s been a while since I’ve written on here. If I am honest with you, I have been struggling a lot lately. Both my anxiety and depression have been flaring up more than usual. I mean, it’s always constant, but lately I’ve been experiencing extreme highs and crashing lows that literally leave me devastated, often ending my days curling up in my bed and filling my nights with crying.

I guess the reason for it all, though there are probably many reasons (and in that sense, no reason at all except for the fact that mental illness is not picky over the times it presents itself), is the fact that my exam week was last week. I’ve been working so hard up until that point all year, and I filled that week with intense cramming, so it left me exhausted by the end of it. The next week, which was the week just gone, I got all my exam results back. And to me they weren’t pretty.

I know I should be extremely proud of myself for getting through that week. Even the fact that I SAT those exams is a massive achievement considering what I went through that week in my head. But I’m not proud. If I am honest again, I’m ashamed in my results. Call me a perfectionist, tell me that I’m too hard on myself, but I am so disappointed in myself. It is just so incredibly disheartening to work so hard for something, to give it your everything, and to fall short. I’ve been there loads of times. I’m sure you have too.

Even though I’m feeling really low about myself at the moment, I’m trying to not let it get in the way of looking after myself, though it can be really hard at times. I’m also trying to remind myself that it’s okay to feel like this. It’s okay to be disappointed. It’s also okay to be angry. You have the right to feel those things because you are human and that’s what humans do; we do things we’re not proud of and we feel like shit. But feeling all of this is so important. You can’t get to the other side, you can’t pick yourself up and prove that you are strong, without having gone through the battle field first. Take a few hits. Cry over them. Even if it takes weeks or even months to get over. But don’t wallow for too long… you need to pick yourself up off the ground at some point.

So yeah, I’m not going to let this defeat me. When have I ever let anything defeat me? The answer is: never, because I am still breathing. Some day soon, I am going to pick up my scattered pieces, look at them, and figure out where the best place is to stick them back together. In a few days, or weeks, (however long I need really), I’m going to pick those exams right back up and work through them so I can figure out where I went wrong and what I can do to improve. When I go back to school next year for my final year before uni, I am going to go to my teachers, having already gone through my exams on my own, and work with them to help me improve even more. I am going to use this anger and disappointment as my fire, I am going to turn it into motivation and drive, and that is what makes me strong and will get me through to the other side.

For now, though, yeah – I’m gonna let this all wash over me. Then I’m gonna forget about it for a while, and give myself permission to relax. I need to find myself again. I neglected so many of the things that I love by prioritizing my study, so over the next few days I’ll be reacquainting myself with things that make me happy – ie, reading mountains of books for hours on end whilst drinking tea, spending the entire day with friends and actually being a teenager by having fun, riding horses and cuddling animals, etc. Those things are important too. If you’re not doing things that make you happy, or at least give you reprieve from stress, then what’s the point of doing the hard stuff?

I think the other thing that has steered me away from writing on here is the feeling that my writing has been going stale. I haven’t even been writing poetry as of late because I just don’t feel my creative juices flowing, or my motivation to do anything at all, for that matter. You have no idea the amount of times I’ve tried to write a blog post and stopped immediately or halfway through, or deleted an Instagram post that I’ve written, because I feel like it’s not good enough. I don’t want my writing to become a chore. It’s something that I love to do, and if I feel like my passion for writing has gone stale, something must be seriously wrong. So I guess I’ve been trying to steer clear of that happening.

I can feel myself coming out on the other side of my writer’s block, however. Still, I’m going to take my time. I want to apologise for not writing as much as I promised. Or keeping up with regular updates on Instagram. But, I guess, at the very least, this can be a reminder to you all, to prioritize self care, and to put yourself first. It seems I need to do a lot of work to catch up on that aspect of my life.

I’ll get there though. And so will you 🙂

Anyway, I also wanted to thank all of you who have stuck by my side, to everyone who reads my posts, whether it’s on Instagram or WordPress. All of you are truly beautiful souls. And helping you through my words is a massive help to me, too. Even if sometimes my presence on here isn’t all that regular. Thank you for being patient with me, and understanding that I go through these episodes…

I think this has been my longest depressive/anxious episode for a while. It’s lasted for 2 weeks and I can’t see a way out of it right now. But I have lights in my life that I’m reaching out to right now. And even if my writing isn’t at its best right now, I will always have my love for it.

So… thank you. For everything. I will hopefully be back soon.

Until then… take care of yourselves. 🙂 ❤

Trigger

Hi lovely people.

I’d just like to say something quick before I need to start my study for the afternoon (I need to finally stop procrastinating!!)

On Thursday night of last week, my mind set completely switched. Those of you who follow me on Instagram will know about it. I was having such an incredible week, there was literally no reason for me to break that night, but I did. It was so out of the blue and it gripped me so hard and so suddenly that I had to stop everything I was doing and just cried.

I did end up mustering the strength to look after myself very basically – feed myself, have a shower, wrap myself up in warmth, allowed myself to lay in bed. I was floating in and out of reality. All of a sudden, emotion would overcome me and I would lie there shaking and bawling my eyes out. That would last for a few seconds before the numbness overtook and I felt literally empty. I felt like I was losing my mind, losing all sense of who I was. This vicious cycle went on and on for God knows how long, until I finally sank into complete numbness, staring vacantly at nothing, feeling nothing in particular. The good thing about this complete absence of feeling meant my mind didn’t have the strength to conjure up any nasty thoughts, so I drifted off to sleep fairly quickly.

The next day, I woke up feeling a little better, though I could still feel the little monster wrapped around my leg, weighing me down. With 2 tests later that day, I chose to “push through” it. Got out of bed. Made myself smile. Hoping keeping active with both my mind and body would drive me out of this depressive episode. Sometimes, this is all you need – just a little boost and you’re good to go. And whilst I am proud of myself for getting out of bed… in the state I was in, this wasn’t the way to go. I needed to rest.

I found this out the hard way later on that morning. With each minute that passed, my mind set was rapidly deteriorating. Exhaustion gripped me – not from lack of sleep, from lack of motivation and feeling. My teacher in period 2 noticed and kept asking me if I was ok, after repeatedly pushing him away. Until I just snapped. I broke into tears.

My beautiful friends also noticed and did their best to comfort me. They encouraged me to go to the nurse, and one of them carted me away to go and see her, and – bless their souls – just in time too, because I was on the edge of a panic attack. I had pushed myself too far. I should have listened to my body and my mind’s warning signals. I ended up sitting on a bed in the nurse’s office, my face a mess as I started to cry uncontrollably. My whole body was trembling, I was hyperventilating, my head was spinning, my heart pounding. I was genuinely scared it would beat out of my chest.

My dad ended up having to come to pick me up. I felt so ashamed, sitting there in front of the nurse and my dad, unable to calm down. The nurse was so lovely though. She had witnessed one of my episodes before and stayed with me, helping me to gain my breath back. But, it didn’t stop the shame and guilt that swept me up. I think people tend to forget that although I am so open about my struggle, I am still ashamed of being so exposed and vulnerable to others.

As I said, I ended up having to go home. I missed my 2 tests, and a new wave of shame swept over me. It wasn’t that I wasn’t prepared for them; I was ready to sit them, knowledge-wise! It was my mental state that forced me to step down. I felt as though that maybe my anxiety was just an excuse for me to get out of things. I started to worry about what my teachers and peers thought of me. What if they thought I was just trying to have an unfair advantage over everyone else? Oh, poor Breanna, we should all pity her and exempt her from her classes whilst her peers have to do what she can’t.

And you know what the nurse told me? I hadn’t said any of these thoughts that overflowed from my mind. I was too distraught. But it was as if she read my mind. With my father’s hand on mine, I felt the warmth that traveled from her gaze on me, even though I couldn’t bring myself to meet her eyes. She said… “Breanna, we know you. We know that you would never suddenly just take time off if you didn’t absolutely need it. Because you’re a pusher. You push through things even when it’s detrimental to you. And even though that’s a beautiful trait to have, sometimes you need to just take your foot off the pedal a bit. It’s ok to rest. We all understand.”

This brings me to what I wanted to say today: sometimes, anxiety just has no reason. It can grip you so hard and suddenly, and there is just no explanation. There doesn’t always have to be a trigger.

But just know… it is never your fault. It is never an excuse. No, it’s not an excuse… it’s so much more than that. Anxiety is real and it’s valid. No one should ever feel guilty for this. No one should ever feel responsible. IT. IS. NOT. YOUR. FAULT.

For those on the receiving end, who witness someone who is in the same state that I was in on Friday, please direct any thoughts of them with compassion. We are so swept up in the stigma of mental health, the negative representation of mental illness, that some of us fail to understand anxiety just HAPPENS. It all happened so quickly for me on Friday. That morning I was smiling with my friends. Not even an hour later I had spiraled into a complete anxiety attack.

I apologise if this post is a little all over the place. My thoughts are a tad scattered. I am still a little stuck in the aftermath of my shaky experience from Friday. I just hope this brings across the message I wanted to deliver… that anxiety is not selective over when it presents itself.

I hope you are all well today. And if you aren’t, please reach out.

So much love to you all ❤

~Breanna xox

Slowly Killing Myself… Social Media and all its dangers (how do we combat it???)

(Lovely photo of the setting sky I took on my evening walk today… the soft pastel colours truly put me at ease. What a beautiful world we live in <3)

Heyy everyone!

So I wrote this last night in my sleep-deprived mind-set, because it was something that was just really irking me and making me quite anxious if I’m honest with you. And now I’d like to share it with you all, because I’m sure a lot of you feel the same things on some level.

What I want to talk about is social media.

I spend so much time on social media, to the point where it’s reeeally becoming a bit toxic for me.

I hate being absorbed in such a tiny screen, and hours just seem to fly by without my even noticing when I’m online. Sometimes I do notice, and that makes it even worse, because I can’t stop. I feel stuck. It just fills every gap of my day. Waiting at the bus stop or in the car. Sitting on my bed after I get home from school. Scrolling through pages and pages, meaningless by the time tomorrow reaches, before I go to bed. And for what?

Where is the time that we donate to ourselves? That we donate to others? That we donate to the world around us, the one that we actually live in, not one that we’ve created for ourselves in this tiny little box?

I know it seems a bit ironic, that I’m making a post about this online, the very thing that I am detesting. I’m adding to my collection of views. Pruning my social feeds.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the community of social media that I am in. It’s a place where I am able to help others and myself through sharing my experiences and sufferings, and along the way I’ve gotten to meet some pretty inspiring people, too. I feel considerably less alone than a year or two ago.

But it’s also taking its toll on me. This consumption. This urge and obsession for likes and comments. I won’t lie, I’ve been victim to it. I just don’t want it to take away from my life. I think that’s the line.

Life is beautiful, guys. And we’re missing it! Locked away in these screens. We’re absolutely missing the point. Why search something up on your little box when you can live it?

Just a random throw-in thought here, too: whenever I witness a truly beautiful moment when I’m out and about and immersed in nature’s glory, I always immediately get this strong urge to take a photo. “This would be a great backdrop for your next instagram post on how beautiful life is.” And that’s fine! The problem is that I start to stress that I’m not enjoying the moment like I should be, I feel that ever-pressing guilt that I’ve been swept up by social media, and neither self-peace nor captured photo is accomplished. Like, seriously, Breanna. (Ah, lookie, the essence of my anxiety: indecisiveness of the simplest tasks.)

Anyway, I’m kinda going off on a tangent. But that gets me thinking… maybe I need to set down some ground rules to help reduce this intoxication of social media, the guilt that ensues from it, and the consequences of what it takes from me!

So, here are my new ground rules (as of me writing this, right now.) You’re welcome to adopt them if you like, or modify them to suit you better. But I think having guidelines for your online usage is so important, so you don’t get swept away from life rather than in it…

1. Turn off all social media apps past 9pm.
I know a lot of people turn off their phones completely, but me being me I play out every scenario of how my night is going to go, and I worry that by turning off my phone, someone I care about may need me and won’t be able to reach me. Solution: ensure all my loved ones have my number, and mute all unnecessary apps!

2. Get into the habit of doing something proactive before going to bed, if you’re a restless soul like me.
I think part of the reason I’m so quick to jump onto social media at night before bed, in bed when I can’t sleep, first thing in the morning etc. is because I’m so RESTLESS and need to do something to clear my head!!!! Instead of adding on the extra minutes on my phone, I’m going to be avidly trying to do something that doesn’t involve my phone screen before bed. This can be a variety of things; reading a few pages or chapter of my book, watching a show that I like with my mum and cats, doing a crossword puzzle or word search, drinking my favourite hot drink of tea while I just simply SIT with myself and contemplate my overly-neglected thoughts by either writing or thinking (have some me-time, you know? Tune in to the little-me’s that make up my brain… they’re worthy of my attention too!), or going outside for a few minutes to look at the stairs and forget about myself in the presence of the vast expanse of the universe for a bit. You can change it up each night, however you want, as long as it’s a refreshing, positive or peaceful activity of self-awareness, reflection and/or compassion.

3. Allocate sectioned times for your social media usage during the day
I most certainly am NOT a routine-sticker. My actions and thoughts flicker and change every day. I obsess over planning, yet I HATE structure with a burning passion. But, I do believe it’s good to have a guide in place to help keep you on track, even if you’re in a chaotic loop-de-loop like me every day. I am going to start by allocating 1 hour maximum of social media every day, maximum of 15 minutes in one sitting, and see how I go from there – some days I may increase this slightly as I wish, and if I can reduce it, even better! I won’t keep the schedule too rigid. Hence, don’t beat yourself up if you go a little (or even a lot) over the limit. Building good habits takes time, just like what I was saying in my blog post on tips to develop self-compassion a few weeks ago. I will also restrain myself from going on it first thing when I wake up and get home from school, however I won’t ban myself completely during these times. Again, allow some flexibility. It’s just the same as removing any bad habit or addiction… you’ve gotta do it s l o w and gentle. 🙂

4. Aim to increase your physical exercise to combat your itch to return to your phone!
Once you’ve put your phone down, keep that bad boy down and keep active! Of course, sometimes exercise just seems like a drag, especially when we feel unmotivated. But it doesn’t have to be as big or spectacular as going for a run three times around the block or forcing yourself to go for a walk (although you most certainly can, if you want to! Don’t feel guilty if that’s not for you, though!). It can be as simple and as little as doing 5 minutes of yoga in your backyard, doing some stretches as you take in your surroundings, or even just takin a walk to the kitchen! Pairing your activity with the outside world will do wonders for your mind and soul if you can, especially if it’s a sunny day – enjoy this world while you have it! I truly believe nature has powers to heal us from the inside out. Even if you just look out the window for a few seconds on your walk to the kitchen, and actively get your mind to notice at least 3 things that you can see outside. You may surprise yourself with things you’ve never even noticed before.

5. Less scrolling, more engaging.
Yeah, sure, we’re being social on our phones. It IS called social media, right? Yes. Correct. The way I use social media IS to connect with people, and that’s wonderful. But next time you’re scrolling, think to yourself…

Am I engaging, or just scrolling?
If I am engaging with others through social media, is it worth my time if I am on my phone/is it something I am actually benefiting from right now?
Are there people who are currently here with me, in person, whom I feel comfortable socialising with and would actually make me feel better engaging with in reality rather than sitting on my phone?

So often, we push people who are closest to us away, and a lot of the time, we don’t even realise. Cherish the moments you have with the people physically here for you in your life, right now. Don’t waste all your time and energy in a screen. Be mindful of your present moment.
If you feel like a challenge, and the person(s) you are currently with in person are not people you know very well – ie. sitting at a bus stop with a stranger – put your phone away and engage in real-talking conversation with them! Of course, don’t push yourself if you don’t feel comfortable. But every friendship starts from the simple introduction of saying hello.

6. Don’t do things half-heartedly.
This is a saying that I still remember from my dad when he told it to me years ago. It’s stuck with me since then. I often feel bad that I push this little saying away, and have done many things half-heartedly many times. But I think it’s important to try and remember as much as possible, and to stop and listen to it. If you’re watching a show, watch it. With your full attention. If you’re spending time with someone, don’t keep checking your phone every 5 minutes. Turn it off if you really can’t help it. Just don’t let your phone steal precious moments from your life, more than it already has.

So, those are my 6 main tips for combating the pull of social media for now!

Please, please, please share with me any other tips for reducing screen-time obsession if you have any! I am always open to suggestions and I’m sure a lot of other people will benefit from it too, myself included!

Alright. Thus concludes another very lengthy post on my behalf. I hope you are all having a wonderful day/night, you lovely people. (It is currently 9:07pm for me over here in Aus, so I’m going to start unwinding now.)

Until next time!

Lots of love 🙂 ❤

~ Breanna

Control

Hey everyone! How are you today? 🙂

Bit of a short one today but thought it worthwhile to share 😊

Today was ehhh. Like, there’s no other way to describe it. Running on 2 hours of sleep. Counselling appointment this morning, which I cried my eyes out during half of it. General feelings of being unmotivated, worthless, anxious. Everything is loud for me today. I spent the majority of it in bed.

I could sit here listing the bad stuff (which I basically just did), which is important. You gotta write that list. You gotta acknowledge what’s bugging you.

But you know what else is important? Writing more than 1 list, so you don’t dwell on the hard stuff. I wrote 3 day.

1 – for all the things that are keeping me down today.

2 – all of the benefits that I get from my suffering.

3 – factors in my life that I can control.

The last 2 were eye openers for me. I was amazed to see how much I’ve grown as a person through these hard times. My compassion & awareness of others and myself has increased significantly over the past year. My courage, perseverance & resilience have hardened me into the accepting strong person that I am.

What I want you all to think about today, however: is what YOU can control.

YOU can control your thoughts. I know it may feel like you can’t, but you can. You get to choose what thoughts you invest in. You can choose what views you have on yourself and other people, but you can’t choose what others think of you. You can choose how you perceive a situation and react to it. You are in control of your actions. You can control who you interact with and the type of people you surround yourself with. You can control how you use and manage your time. And most of all, You can control your outlook on life.

There’s something to ponder for a while, lovely people ☺️

I hope you all have a great day/night. Any questions, again feel free to email me or comment below, or visit my Instagram page – @breannas.blog!

Much love ❤️

My Anxiety Story

Hi everyone. How are all of you today?

If I’m honest, I’m not doing all that great right now myself, but hey – all the more reason why I’m writing this blog. To help spread the message that it’s okay… to not be okay. 🙂

Today I’d like to talk to you all about my depressive voice and my personal journey with anxiety. I think it’s a core part of me, and so it’s hard to share. It makes me feel vulnerable, sparks my fear of attention seeking, opens up fresh wounds, etc. But the wounds are already open right now. So I may as well delve deeper for all of you, for anyone who is struggling to grasp what their own inner demons are telling them, for those who know all too well what they are saying and just need to know that someone else is experiencing the same thing, and for those who want to help broaden their knowledge about depression and anxiety… maybe for someone you love, or for other people in general. Whatever the reason, I’m glad you came. I’m glad you’re reading.

I think I might start with a bit of background knowledge of me. Personally, I think I’ve always known my anxiety was there, in the back of my mind, nudging me in directions I wouldn’t otherwise think about. Causing me to make small decisions out of fear (or the opposite – to be paralysed into indecisiveness out of fear!!) which would over time build to something as big as to what it is now. The problem is that I only knew it was there subconsciously. I didn’t know what to call this voice in my head. When I talk about voices, I’m not talking about some creepy whisper seeping into my mind, I’m not talking about hearing things or being possessed and going crazy. I’m talking about the small, frail girl who is my core, pleading for help. I’m talking about my conscience, my deeper thoughts that I sometimes fail to let rise to the surface.

My voice, my instinct, my conscience, whatever you’d like to call it, has often kept me safe. It’s barred me from acting in a dangerous situation, forced me to retreat from things that it thought would cause me harm. But bit by bit, this voice was slowly degrading my sense of self-worth. It would make me feel unsafe at random times and occasions, when I couldn’t actually see what it was that so disturbed me. That’s the funny thing I’ve learned about anxiety over the years… it makes you feel so totally vulnerable, so at risk, so completely unsafe, when you know in your own head that you are perfectly safe. And yet, your blood runs cold, your hands feel clammy, your heart starts to race. But why?

I could go into a whole sciency-ramble about just “why” our brains like to trick our voice that we are in some deep and serious trouble. Because that’s all it is – it’s science. Yeah, anxiety is a real condition. It is a real illness. And, oh yes, anxiety can affect you physically, in immense ways might I add, as well as mentally. But I won’t delve into that. Today is more of a philosophical discussion.

My point is, I did not KNOW that this was anxiety until recent years. How could I? I’d never even really heard the word until I reached around 10 years old. But it was always there… pressing in… like a shadow protruding from the darkness, or a hand gently pressed against my throat. Not constricting, just there. Threatening to tighten its grip. And that was the scariest thing of all, that feeling of impending anxiety. Knowing that it could, and would, strike up again when I least expected it.

At first, it started off just as little nigglings when I’d do something out of my comfort zone. Walking down the road to the shops, talking to someone I’d never met before, standing up on stage in front of my primary school to deliver a prayer or say a few lines during assembly. All normal, healthy stuff you’d expect a normal young girl to feel a little apprehensive about. Only, it got bigger. The squeezing in my chest got tighter. The niggling more incessant. And with the divorce of my parents, the weight continued to pile. Soon I reached high school, now at the age of 13 years old. Transitioning from primary into high school was a major milestone for me, with the anxiety I had to overcome. But it was something I could overcome. I had my friends, caring teachers, and always my family and pets to come home to. I was nervous, but I was happy.

It wasn’t until around the age of 14 that I really started my downward spiral into anxiety. If I could describe my anxiety in the earlier years of my life, I would say it was just there… sitting on the periphery of my life, getting comfortable on the edges of my mind, often dipping its toe into the waters of my thoughts to make a few ripples, but never a huge splash. To describe my anxiety over the past 3 and a half years to date… would be an absolute disaster. I simply cannot explain it to you in words. The pain, the fear, the attacks, the isolation, it is just something you need to have experienced for yourself to truly understand.

I have to say: I am in a much, much, much better place right now in terms of my mental health overall than I was about a year, or even 2 years ago. But in those early stages of learning the reality of what I was going through, I descended rapidly into a dark hole. And it was absolutely terrifying, my first experience in this horrible place. I felt as though I had no one to hold onto. My mind was playing tricks on me in the dark. This is the place where my small, little voice of anxiety turned into my great, big, nasty depressive voice. “You are alone.” “Nobody cares about you or understands what you are going through.” “Everyone is lying.” “You are a waste.” “You drag everybody else down.” “You’re just a hindrance to everyone else.” “You’ve caused all of the problems in your life, and in those around you.” And you have to understand: I had no problem looking the same as I always did on the outside. It’s not that I wanted to fake my emotions. I had just become very good at hiding my internal struggle, and it was my go-to instinct rather than bringing these attacking thoughts to the surface for others to hear. It was all within my mind, and no one, not even those closest to me, knew the real depth of what I was suffering.

I regret that choice. I lived for over a year with those attacks eating me from the inside every day. Some days, they were diluted, but I could not escape from them, because they were me. I had no idea how to formulate these thoughts into words. I was ashamed. I was confused. And I felt very, very alone and detached.

Around the time that I turned 15, I finally realised that this struggle, although internal, was far bigger than I could handle. I couldn’t take it any longer on my own or I would cave in and break. So I reached out to my parents, reached out to my two closest friends, and they pointed me in the direction of Headspace, where I got counselling for the next four months.

I then learnt that my anxiety comes and goes. Yes, it is always there, in the back seat, watching over my shoulder. But there are periods of time where it tries to take control from me, and periods of time when it lessens its hassling and sits complacently behind me. I learnt to acknowledge that these periods of time occur sporadically, and whilst I could never schedule in a time that I knew it would come, I learnt to recognise the symptons of it; “yep, I can feel an anxiety attack or depressive episode coming on tonight”, and live with it.

Thus came the period in my life I was at my best. I thought everything was past me (foolish, I know.) I thought I was “cured”. That I was better. I’m sorry, but there is no cure to anxiety. There is no cure for depression. There are only things that can help us lift out of it for a while, every now and again. But it is enough to sustain us. We do not need a cure.

Anyway, yes, I believed I was finally free for those couple months after my counselling, and so I broke off with Headspace. It took a mere few months before the demons came rolling back in to sweep me back into my hole. But this time, I knew I needed to reach out. Now, at 17 years old, I am back at Headspace, and I have to tell you it honestly helps so much to talk to someone that is outside of your life, looking in to give you perspective. At the same time, if you are able to talk to people in your life about your suffering, you must do so.

In some respects, my depression and anxiety is worse because of the busy life I am living, being a full-time ATAR student, working 2 jobs, and everything else in between. It is worse because I am so much more aware and attuned to my struggle. It is worse because of the strain I put on myself to be better, to help others. It is worse because the moments of panic are harder to deal with, and becoming more frequent. The nights are getting longer. The voice in my head is louder. The hand on my throat is tighter. The fear in my chest is too scared to let go, and is clinging for dear life.

But… I do feel, compared to this time last year, I am in a better place despite my mental illness growing stronger. I feel better because I have chosen to let people in. I feel better because I have let my anxiety and depression in rather than fighting it. I feel better because I have learned more and more (and am still learning!) about this important issue. I feel better because I have developed healthy strategies that help me cope in desperate times; such as doing things I love, like going for runs/walks, listening to music, riding horses, spending time with people and animals I love to be around, writing, singing and drawing. I feel better because I have learnt to read both my body’s and mind’s little signals that I am breaking down, that I am about to panic, etc. and – most importantly – LISTEN to these signals and give myself permission to have a break. I feel better because I talk. And that’s what I want each and every single one of you to do.

My mental illness is becoming stronger. But so am I. I am becoming stronger, every day.

So, even though my depressive voice is a little louder than usual today, the hand is a little tighter round my throat than it normally is, it’s ok. Because I know I will be ok. Everything will be ok. And we are all here to help each other, to stand up to the stigma around mental illness and say “no” to its face!

I think I’ve covered everything I’ve wanted to talk about today. It’s a long winded process, talking about this worldwide issue. There are literally millions of topics and aspects I can talk about, but I will do my bit, piece by piece. If there is anything else you’d like to know about, or have any queries or requests, send me an email or a comment below! 🙂

Be well lovelies ❤️

Self-compassion… and how to build it!

Hello lovelies! How are you today? (Honest answers only please! :))

So today has had a wonderful start for me already. I woke up having had a maximum of 3 hours of sleep (the joys of overthinking and having an exhausted body paired with an over-analytical mind!!) and crippling pains in my stomach. Plus, to make matters worse, anxiety crept into my system before I even had a say about it. (That’s the thing about mental illness – YOU don’t get a say in the matter. Of course, you’re always in control of your thoughts and your emotions… but when you have a mental illness, you don’t get to pick when you suffer from it. It just happens. It just is. Anxiety sucks.)

Today was meant to be my first day of school after break… well, looks like a change of plans. Instead I am lying wrapped in blankets on my couch, drinking tea and watching Black Beauty, with one of my cats padding around my legs to make his bed. I could have gone to school – in fact, the abusive thoughts started to roll in as I began to ponder taking a day off: “you’re weak,” “all you have to do is just push further and you’ll be fine”, “you’re going to look so bad at not coming to school on the first day”, “do you really want to miss all this work your classes are going to cover? You’re just gonna make matters worse for yourself”. I almost gave in to it. But my pain was stronger and forced me to give in. And you know something? When I gave in, and listened to what my body was telling me rather than my mind, a new voice piped up in my head. A softer voice. Telling me, kindly, gently, “you’re obviously not very well. If you go to school today, you’ll hardly be able to focus, so it’ll be far more productive if you stay home and let yourself rest up so you’ll hopefully be fresher tomorrow.” Whilst the abusive voice didn’t go away, it lessened its harshness as this softer, kinder voice took charge behind the wheel.

You see, my friends, THAT is self-compassion: when you allow your kind voice to overpower your abusive voice. When you let your gentle voice calmly say, “hey, abusive thoughts, it’s alright – I got this one.” It doesn’t mean your abusive voice is going to go away. Mine is always there. But if you can channel your inner perspective, step outside of your head for a moment and see the bigger picture, you always have the choice to dull it, put it to the back of your mind, and get on with what YOU want to do.

Of course, it’s not easier said than done. Believe me. I’ve let my abusive thoughts push me past my breaking point so many times, and it’s often left me so damaged and broken that I take longer to repair myself and pick up my pieces than I did to actually get there. So what can we do to drive the little critters out of the control station?

I asked my counselor at Headspace the same question, and he produced three documents for me: “8 Types of Distorted Thinking”, “Ten Popular Irrational Beliefs and Alternative Rational Choices”, and “How to Develop Self Compassion (In Just About Anyone)” by Dr. Russ Harris. I’d really like to go through each of these documents with you all, but they are so in depth that I think I’ll take it one blog post at a time. They are all a big eye opener and have helped me so much on my journey to a kinder approach to myself and developing self-compassion.

For today, I’d like to focus on the article written by Dr. Russ Harris. I found it to be the most profound and motivating of the lot, and if you’re like me and struggle to figure out just WHERE to start on showing compassion to yourself, then here’s the guide.

Harris starts with a cracker opening line: ‘Everybody hurts sometimes. Life dishes up pain for all of us.’ Yes, yes, we are not alone in our struggle. Remember that. He then goes on to provide an actual definition for self-compassion, which I will include here:

Self-compassion involves acknowledging your own suffering and responding kindly. In other words, treating yourself with the SAME warmth, caring and kindness that you’d extend to someone you love if they were in similar pain.

How about that, hey? Imagine if we all treated ourselves as we would a loved one when they are going through a difficult time. Our pain is just as valid as theirs. So why are most of us not so quick at jumping to treat ourselves with care and consideration the moment the need presents itself?

Harris explains that there are many barriers to self-compassion, and touches on a few of the most common defences…

Fusion with unworthiness (“I don’t deserve kindness.”)
Overwhelming emotions (such as anxiety, sadness, guilt or shame)
Pointlessness (“How’s this going to help me?”)
Lack of personal experience (little to no kindness shown from other people)
Prejudice (“it’s a sign of weakness!”)

Sound like you? Yeah, me too.

But as Frank Capra says: “Compassion is a two-way street.” You simply just CAN’T show compassion to someone without having compassion for yourself. After all, where does it come from? If you’re doubting that you can show compassion to yourself, think to all the times you’ve been kind to someone. Why did you do it? Because you are compassionate. You therefore have the potential to demonstrate it any way you please, including yourself.

Now we ask ourselves the question – but HOW DO we develop self-compassion??? The answer is: unlimited. There are many ways you can develop self-compassion. Every person is different, so each person develops it in their own unique way – whatever works for YOU.

Dr. Harris does, however, provide ‘The Six Building Blocks of Self-Compassion’ to help you get started on your own very unique journey. He highlights that “we can start with any one of the six basic ‘building blocks’ of self-compassion – ideally, whichever one we find easiest – and we can work on that for a while. Then once we’ve made some progress with that element, we can start experimenting with another”. You know what that means? Think of it as your own self-paced course! YOU decide how long you work on one aspect of yourself, and when to move onto the next aspect. There is no time allotted to restrict or pressure you – ah, yes, you can breathe… finally, you can lower your expectations!

In this way, going gently, step-by-step, we can build our self-compassion skills over time. As we develop more ‘building blocks’, we can learn how to stack them on top of each other, to build taller and more stable towers. There is no need for people to meditate, or to follow some religious practice (although they can if they want to!)

So give it some effort. Put in the work. But remember – it will take time. Don’t be discouraged!

Now here we are, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: just what ARE the Building Blocks of Self-Compassion?

1. Acknowledging Pain
Harris describes this process as ‘flexibly noticing’, “with an attitude of curiosity and openness, what is present: right here, right now”. I LOVE this! Putting all attempts of self-compassion aside, you are bathing in what you’re feeling right now, your PAIN, and there is nothing wrong with it. Acknowledging you’re hurting is actually so incredibly essential. It’s human.

He goes on to say that “often it’s useful to express what we have noticed, in a non-judgmental way!” For example, just simply saying to yourself: “I am noticing painful feelings of rejection” can help you immensely to see the problem for what it is by hearing the very words causing your distress.

2. Defusion from Self-Judgment
Harris explains the process of defusion to be “learning to separate/unhook/detach from our thoughts and beliefs and see them for what they are: nothing more or less than strings of words and pictures”. In particular, we are learning to defuse from all that harsh self-talk.

As I’ve said earlier, Harris reinforces that “we can’t magically train our minds to stop speaking to us that way. Sure, you can learn to think more positively, and practise non-judgmental awareness – but that won’t stop your mind from judging and criticising you.

“But we CAN learn to defuse from those ‘not good enough’ stories. We can notice, name and unhook from those cognitions. We can let them come and stay and go in their own good time, without getting caught up in them or pushed around in them.”

My counselor often reminds me of his bus analogy whenever I admit to feelings of an anxiety attack coming on. He says to me, “Breanna, think of your anxiety as a bus. You’ve been on this bus many times. You know it’s route all too well, though it shows up at different and unsuspecting times. You can get on it. Or you can simply step onto the platform, smile at the bus driver, and tell him politely that you’d rather wait for another bus, a much more calmly driven, safer, quieter bus, with scenery that you’ve never seen before. And then you can step down from the bus, and watch it disappear down the street.”

3. Acting with Kindness
“The value that forms the foundation of self-compassion is kindness.” Yes, yes, yes. Right again, Dr Harris. “Indeed, we can think of kindness as the glue that holds together all the other elements of self-compassion. For example, when we consciously acknowledge our pain, this is an act of kindness. And when we defuse from harsh self-criticism, this too is an act of kindness.” Ah, the glue… Perfect way to think of it.

Dr Harris touches on four main ways to be kind to ourselves:
+ Kind self-talk… such as reminding ourselves that we are human, that we are fallible, that everyone makes mistakes, that no one is perfect.
+ Kind imagery… such as ‘loving kindness meditation’ or ‘inner child re-scripting’ or numerous other practices where we create powerful images to tap into self-kindness.
+ Kind self-touch… such as placing a hand gently on our heart or on top of a painful feeling, and sending warmth and caring inwards through the palm.
+ Kind deeds… such as self-soothing rituals, or self-care activities (these can range from treating yourself to a gourmet lunch, to having a warm bath, to just allowing yourself a five minute break to sit in the sun and focus on your breathing!), or spending quality time with people who treat us well.

4. Acceptance
There are a lot of us who think of the word ‘acceptance’ as a passive act of submitting to a difficult situation. “On the contrary,” Dr Harris explains, “the committed action process in ACT involves taking effective action. Acceptance in ACT refers to accepting our thoughts, feelings, emotions, memories, urges, sensations. Acceptance means we ‘open up’ and ‘make room’ for our thoughts and feelings; we allow them to flow through us, without fighting them, running them or being controlled by them.”

Tricky thing to do, huh?

“When we practice accepting our painful thoughts, feelings, memories and sensations (instead of doing self-defeating or life-draining things to avoid them, such as zoning out in front of the television or turning to alcohol), this is an act of kindness in itself.”

5. Validation
I’m pretty sure ALL of us reading this right now has at least once in their life invalidated our own pain. It’s pretty easy to do. All you have to do is think about the malnourished, suffering kids in Africa, and hey presto! Feelings of guilt and shame, ensue. “Our minds tell us that we shouldn’t feel like this, we shouldn’t react like this, we should be able to handle it better.” Yup. Been there, done that.

This type of harsh and critical attitude is the very opposite to kindness. One aspect of validating our experience to ensure kindness, therefore, is via defusing. “Even though we can’t stop them from arising, we can learn to defuse (unhook, detach) from these harsh self-judgments, unrealistic expectations, and unkind comparisons to others.”

The other aspect is to actively validate our experience through self-talk. “We can remind ourselves – (in a warm, caring inner voice) that it is normal and natural for humans to have painful thoughts and feelings. And when our minds compare our emotional reactions unfavourably to those of others, we can remind ourselves that we are unique.”

Again – you are entitled to feel! You’re just as human as those starving kids in Africa, after all.

6. Connectedness
What was I saying about spirituality in my previous blog post? CONNECTEDNESS… with the world around you, other people, animals, and – lo and behold – yourself.

It is so easy for our minds to generate thoughts along the lines of “I am the only one going through this” or “no one cares” when we are in great pain. We’ve all been there, done that. I know I have, repeatedly. I still do. “Thoughts like these are commonplace,” Dr Harris reassures us, “and completely natural.

“However, the problem is not having such thoughts. The problem is fusing with them. Getting caught up in these thoughts creates a sense of disconnection. We feel cut off from others; we are suddenly on our own, the odd one out. And our pain is all the more difficult, because we are suffering alone.

“If, on the other hand, we develop a sense of connectedness with others, this can help us with our pain.” It sure does. Ever heard of stories where people immediately feel good about themselves after helping someone out?

So how do we develop this connectedness, you ask?
+ Actively defuse from thoughts such as those above
+ Spend time with people who care about you and treat you kindly. Actively engage with them; meaning, be fully present with them. This does not mean you push all your problems aside and try to force yourself to forget about them. No, they’re still there. Accept those thoughts. Thank your brain for them. And leave them lying on the ‘get-to-later’ shelf for safe keeping. You don’t need them right now.
+ Often, it’s useful to let these people know you are in pain, and accept their kindness.
+ Actively think about how your pain is something you have in common with all human beings. Your pain tells you that you have a heart; that you care deeply; that some things just really matter to you.

You see? Your pain most certainly is NOT a sign of weakness or defectiveness. It’s a sign you are a living, caring, human being. And that is something so truly amazing… and so incredibly full of worth. You deserve to be here just as much as everybody else.

Wow, I’ve got to say… this definitely is my longest blog post yet!!! But I truly hope you got something out of reading this. I know I did writing it – helped me kill 2 hours of my lazy day, yes! (Silent victory for the anxious xP)

If you’re feeling in a comment-y mood today, I’d love to know: what do YOU already do to practise self-compassion? Do you have any other tips that could benefit other people, or another building block to add to the list? Do share!

I hope you all have the most fantastic day, gorgeous people.

I’ll leave you with this:

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.

~ Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Spirituality

Hi everyone! How are you all doing today?

Today I am going to be talking about spirituality and its importance in my life. First, let me get one thing straight: I am NOT a religious person at all. I am of Catholic faith, yes, but I do not practice it regularly. Meaning – no, I do not go to church every Sunday. I have not been in months. I hardly ever pray.

You see, being religious and being spiritual are so far apart in meaning, but it seems to me that a lot of people aren’t actually aware of this. In my very own opinion (yes, it can be contestable!) religiosity is the strong upkeep of beliefs, faith and continuous practice of a certain religion. Spirituality, however, is your depth of connection with yourself, others, and the world around you; and whilst it most definitely falls under the category of religiosity, it can often be found in people who do not necessarily believe in God (or any other gods of our time.) I am included in this circle.

religion spirituality venn2_0

Now for a little backstory on my part. As I’ve said, despite being Baptised and regularly encouraged to follow my private school’s Catholic faith, I am not, in the sense, a religious person. I am respectful of my school’s celebration of mass and Eucharist, and see the worth in it, but the past few years of my life, it’s got me thinking – IS there a God? Can all the stories I’ve been told really justify this?

Trust me – I WANT to believe. I think everyone does, really. We all would like to think that some bigger, protective force is watching over us, guiding us throughout our lives. We all would like to think that we were put on earth for a reason, that our lives are meant for some predetermined purpose. We all would like to believe that there is a place for us after death. But the thing that’s got me is my natural scientific outlook on life. Yes, I am a very emotive, deep-feeling person, and it is often my heart that guides me rather than my head. But after all that I’ve learnt over the years about how the world works and how our very existence came to be – in scientific terms – it is hard for me to believe that there really IS a God.

Despite all of this, I do believe that I am an extremely spiritual person. It is one of my strongest core values, and I take high pride in it. I guess that’s one benefit of going through the struggle of mental illness and difficult times: my pain has strengthened my compassion, understanding, kindness, and connectivity with others, animals, and myself. Well, I’m still working on myself. Self-compassion is difficult; trust me, I get it. But we’ll get to that another time.

So, what do you think?

Can we be spiritual without holding religious values?
Do you see yourself as being spiritual, both spiritual and religious, or none at all?

I’d love to get to know your experiences with spirituality and religiosity! So please, comment below or shoot me an email!

Love to you all ❤