My twenties taught me many things about navigating the outside world as an adult. Ironically, the biggest lesson was learning to pay close attention to my inner world.
I turned thirty years young this year. Being on the cusp of a new decade feels momentous.
Over these last ten years, I have struggled with depression, anxiety, and a crippling lack of self-confidence. On more than one occasion, I have looked down the dark abyss that awaits anyone with mental health issues. I even underwent counseling and therapy, sought recourse in medication, opened up to friends, and plunged myself unapologetically into the “self-help” universe.
As I share my own battle, this frankness and willingness to be vulnerable may come as a surprise to some. Even in the modern world, the stigma of mental health illness remains omnipresent. We are conditioned to just “deal with it as a passing phase,” “snap out of it,” or, “toughen up.”
Men, especially, are forced into a unidimensional version of masculinity—any outward display of emotion is a weakness.
We are indoctrinated with the notion that illnesses of the mind are illegitimate and unworthy of public discourse.
Despite limiting beliefs around open conversation, very few are spared from mental illness in their private lives. Once others see a possibility for dialogue, they begin to share too.
Showing your bleeding wounds to another human being requires courage. But authenticity is infectious. We might inspire others with our determination to remain vulnerable and ask for help. Over these last few months, several friends and acquaintances have shared their personal struggles with me.
Every time another person tells me they feel overwhelmed by their brains, my heart breaks a little. Incessant dark thoughts and emotions have taken over their daily lives.
The problem of mental ailments, like depression and anxiety, is that unshakeable feeling of helplessness and hopelessness. You feel that there is no way out and, no matter what happens, the bad feelings will never go away. This distorted version of the truth presented by our brains convinces us that we have no agency.
I know that numbed, broken version of one’s self that emerges as a result of these illnesses. But things can get better and, sure, it is not instantaneous; recovery may require several approaches. Today, I want to share what I have learned through my own experience.
Wisdom is nothing but the ability to offer a piece of yourself to another human being. I wish I could reach out to every person in the world who is suffering from a mental health problem. I want to tell you that there is hope, lurking even within the shadows. To summarize the common tools that have helped me feel better, I list three. And remember, none of these take time: they actually make time—better use of your time.
A few years ago, I started meditating daily. It has changed my life. I started out with cynicism (like many people): How can I sit so still when I feel so empty and tired? How will I quieten my constant mental chatter? Don’t I first need to feel calm to even think about meditation? Does it even work?
The response to all of the above questions and any others that are keeping you from meditation is: just do it and keep at it. Yes! You don’t need all the answers beforehand. You don’t need to be spiritual. You don’t need to join a retreat, become a yogi, or spend hours.
You don’t need perfection, you need practice.
Find a quiet place, close your eyes, put on earphones, and follow a guided meditation. Or if you prefer, do one yourself. And let go of the worry about doing it right, there is no such thing! It is time you take for yourself, and what can be better than making yourself a priority?
Meditation helps refresh my mind-space amidst the darkest spells. It has brought me closer to my inner self. It has led me to observe my thoughts, not alter, judge, or arrest them—just observe them like traveling clouds. Meditation has taught me to look inward and enjoy the stillness in my core, despite all the worries and anxiety in the foreground.
Honestly, just try it; you’ll find it addictive once you begin to build the muscle of meditation. Remember to stick with it though—meditating is a habit, a journey and not an intrinsic skill. No one is “made” for meditation, we all learn it. So be patient with yourself.
Writer Eckhart Tolle talks about the tendency of our minds to forever escape the present moment. We are too much in the past or too much in the future. In his life-altering book The Power of Now, he says all our worries, fears, and anxieties stem from this predisposition. Mindfulness is the practice of grounding of one’s self in the now, in this moment: this breath, just as it is.
Easier said than done? I agree! Also why I believe that, like meditation, mindful awareness is a practice, a discipline.
That said, each one of us has experienced mindfulness presence without realizing it. Every time a sunset, a panorama, a movie, a song, or a loved one takes your breath away and you are suspended in bliss—you are mindfully present. You are nowhere else but in that moment of joy. Doing this even without the positive stimulus is the challenge.
A key element in mindfulness is acceptance or surrender: not adding to the suffering of a moment by wishing it were otherwise.
When we resist reality, our present life-situation, we unconsciously build up resistance to what is, the “is-ness” of this moment. And resistance isn’t bad—on the contrary, resistance is what we can use to become mindful and present! However, surrender does not mean inaction; it means accepting what exists as true before deciding if action is necessary. Reaction is impulsive, mindful action is deliberate and, in my case, wiser and calmer.
Preventatively drawing my attention to the present, at regular intervals during the day, has helped me strengthen my awareness.
Sometimes when I am walking, I quietly try to observe my physical body, my breath and my energy. My aliveness. Mindfulness means becoming the witness: noticing that you’re noticing. Thoughts will pop like bubble-wrap but if you don’t engage with them, don’t build a story or try to use words and labels, they will slide away.
Focus on the sensations, the feelings you’re feeling; not the noise in your mind. The witness inside is the mindful, true Me. When I glimpse that dimension, free from mind and outer body, even for a split second, I know I am free and at peace.
3. Self-love and gratitude
Like many, I grew up with a brittle sense of self. Growing up I was the model student. Yet, in my teens and early twenties, I began to spiral into shame and self-hate. As I navigated different cultures, countries, languages, and expectations over the last decade, I often found myself feeling stuck. I felt inferior, unworthy, inadequate, different and “foreign.” Feeling like an outsider only reinforced my innate lack of self-esteem.
I still struggle with those feelings of not being good enough, tall enough, smart enough, successful enough, handsome enough, rich enough, white enough, and the list goes on. I have to remind myself, consciously and repeatedly, that I am enough. No matter where I live, what I do or look like, I am complete and I am okay.
Self-love might sound selfish and egotistic. But in fact, the most important person in your life is you! You need to be okay to help and love others. Self-love means being gentle to yourself, not insulting yourself when you fall or make mistakes.
I had to learn to take care of myself as I would a close friend or loved one. It doesn’t come easy because we are raised in a culture where putting your own sense of self last is virtuous, a thing to be proud of.
I believe we all need to learn to love ourselves, just the way we are. I would go so far as to say, that is the whole game. It’s a tricky one to win, but we ought to keep trying. Start simply: Check your thoughts when you pity yourself or put yourself down (yes, you know that negative self-talk where your brain tells you how slow/fat/ugly/poor/lonely/unloved/silly you are!).
When we can look at ourselves in the mirror and feel genuine love for the person we see—true deep affection for our whole selves, with all the bad and good —that’s unconditional self-love. I told you, it won’t be easy, but it is rewarding. When you can be fully you, life is simpler.
While self-care has taught me to appreciate myself, exactly as I am, daily gratitude has helped expand that compassion to a wider range of things. Every day I give thanks for being alive, healthy, able-bodied, young, loved, taken care of, with comforts (food, water, shelter, money), luxury, and freedom.
Gratitude radically changes my perspective—from focusing on deprivation, on what’s missing, it throws light on what I do have. It can make us connected to reality in a more balanced and harmonious way. Gratitude, for myself or life, has helped me come unstuck when everything feels wretched and uphill.
Growing up is a process, life a constant journey. Along the way, these practices are helping me understand that I can feel better and be better. Ultimately, we all wish to experience joy and be at peace with ourselves. This is a reminder for me and you—to reach out and proactively work towards our own well-being. Talk and share with others. Stay open.
Next time things aren’t going well, try to meditate or maybe focus on the present moment. Or give thanks for all that you do have and be kind to yourself. Speak to a friend or a specialist. And if it helps, read this again.
Originally published on Tiny Buddha.
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