when anxiety holds you back (all of the the damn time)

I love playing soccer.

I'm standing across the street from a soccer field where 10 of my closest friends are playing a heated game of soccer. Naturally, my first instinct is to run over there and join in.

The problem is...I'm chained to a wall on the other side of the street.

It's not a metal chain--more of a zip-tie that could most definitely be broken if I really tried. 

So there I am...tied to this wall as I see all of my great friends playing my favorite sport right in front of me. 

I want to run over there but that zip-tie is somewhat in my way. I decide it is not worth it. I decide to stay stuck to the wall.

Anxiety. Like an abusive partner who won't let me break free. He wants all of my attention and keeps me from feeling free and full of joy.

Certain opportunities are a distant dream that I cannot seem to grasp because anxiety just won’t grant me its license. There are so many undertakings that I crave, and still, the trepidation is far too much. What even is this fear? Where does this come from? I can yearn for something more than anything in the world but this cruel, inexplicable safety harness keeps me from reaching toward it. 

It is so much more than a comfort zone--a safety net. No...it is a locked door to which a key has not yet been generated. It is a plastic bag that has been super glued to my neck.

I have not given up. I'm crafty. I know a great locksmith. I own goo-gone.

I have not given up. I'm just vigilant and moving forward.

A Letter to My 17 Year Old Self

Like most of my posts, this could be triggering to those that have suffered from physical or emotional abuse.

Dear Annalise,

It hurts me to write you this letter knowing already that you will receive it six years too late. Regardless-- there are things that I wish to share with you.

You are worth so much more than you think. Your limiting beliefs regarding your self worth and capabilities have such a strong hold on you. No amount of reassurance will make you realize this yet, and you're going to settle for way less than you deserve. And you're going to settle a lot... because you don't even know that you're settling. 

You are going to make A LOT of dumb, impulsive, naive, and misinformed decisions. These decisions will lead to heavy consequences and looking back you will realize that they were mistakes. You will always realize, in hindsight, that the feeling you had before making the poor choice was your intuition telling you no. You will continue to push that voice away to receive instant gratification, pleasure, fun, and excitement. You will take a very, very long time to learn to TRUST that voice and to stop pushing it away. Even when you learn what that voice is you will struggle to listen. You're still struggling with that as you read this. Sorry 'bout it.

You are about to face the absolute best but absolute worst years of your life. The next three and a half years of college will be quite hard, but mainly carefree, blissful and FUN. College will be the best time you've experienced so far.. Don't get too excited. You will then be faced with the hardest year and a half of your life thus far. Be prepared and never give up. Sounds cheesy...but really, I'm getting to the good part eventually. Remember this: when you make it through that awful time, you will again be on the upswing.

You are going to encounter people that change you so much. You'll make best friends and lose best friends. You are going to be surrounded with several toxic people, and a handful of amazing people. You are going to think you're happy doing certain things and will later realize that you probably (read: definitely) weren't so happy after all. 

You're going to be emotionally abused. You won't recognize it as abuse and you'll continue to allow it in your life. You'll let that tear you apart until your soul is so lost that your worth is at 0% battery. When you finally break free, you'll be physically abused. You'll be sexually abused more times than one. More than two, even. That will be suffocating and that will stick with you for years before you fully process what even happened to you. I hate to mention it now, but you're still working on that one.

You're going to fall in love and be in a very supportive relationship. You'll be happier than you've ever been... You're going to be certain that he's the one. But he won't be. No, really. I know you can't fathom that at 19, 20, or 21 years old after a three year relationship--but he wasn't the one for you. He was in your life for a reason and certainly a season but you need to let go when it inevitably all comes crashing down. 

You are going to struggle a lot with an eating disorder, anxiety, and depression from 17 to 22. You're going to learn how strong you are by learning where you are weak. You will learn to identify your values as a human and you will learn that working toward your values every day will bring you closer to your true self. You will overcome these things and continue to work on them for life. Yes, you will. I promise. 

Eventually when you are almost at the age of 23 you will experience utmost serenity. You will feel a tranquil oneness--oneness with yourself. Oneness with your purpose, spirituality and the people and environment around you. You will realize that you have made it through hell and that even if you have to keep going, you can always make it through. You will become independent in every sense of the word--you will inspire others. You will use your empathy to make the world a kinder place. (You also will let your empathy turn you into an emotional sponge so be careful when you walk into a room...)

You will learn that the energy of others GREATLY affects you, and you will learn to carefully allot time to those individuals that enhance your positive energy and less time with those who drain you and drag you down. You will spend a lot of time figuring out what truly invigorates your soul and try to connect with how you were as a child. Blissful innocence. 

You will battle with quite a few health problems in the upcoming years, girl. But you always overcome them. I'm telling you right now--even the times that you technically have no heartbeat and your body should not be alive you WILL live. So don't let it scare you.

You will find yourself lying on the floor bawling too many times for me to count right now or ever. You'll also find yourself staring at a razor blade...deciding on a bottle of pills, and frantically trying to keep your car straight on the freeway so as not to crash into the divider as your brain desperately orders you to end it all. 

You're going to feel psychotic and messed up most of this time. Maybe you are. But maybe you are just the only one talking about it. Maybe you'll realize, in sharing your struggles, that there are so many others dealing with all of this same stuff, after all. Maybe you'll realize that we've been programmed as a society to do certain things and act a certain way and inevitably spend months trying to deprogram your brain from the way it was taught like Pavlov's dog what is "right" and what is "wrong". What is acceptable vs. what is unacceptable. What is fake vs. what is real. (Essentially you'll be in a state of existential crisis most of the time. It's fine.)

(All of those maybes are DEFINITELYS.)

Don't let this letter scare you. As I sit here writing this I have fought off the demons that had such an indomitable hold on me for the past few years. I sit here as a different person. I feel peace and joy and love. I AM peace, joy, and love. 

I wish I could have given you this letter sooner, Annalise...but unfortunately, I had to live it before I could write about it. Buckle up and get ready. 

Love,

Annalise

On Suicidality and Selfishness

**Trigger Warning: This article may be triggering to those struggling with suicidal ideation or other mental illnesses. **

"Suicide isn’t chosen. It happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain. When you wake up in extreme pain and crippling sickness and get mad at God for allowing you to wake up instead of thanking him for the day. Because you don’t want the day…because you have no choice in your life anymore.

Two years ago I didn’t know this, and I thought that people who died by suicide were selfish, insane, weak, and stupid. I thought they were willingly throwing away the life they were given because they were momentarily frustrated or sad or angry or even just pessimistic. I had no idea that I soon would be in the position of fighting intense suicidal urges. I didn’t realize that suicide was more than just being selfish and stupid. It’s just about utter hopelessness and an inability to cope with circumstances. A permanent solution for a temporary problem? Sometimes, yes. But what about when the problem isn’t temporary? Or when you have no way of knowing if it’s temporary and you truly cannot live another day in such agony…

That’s all suicide is about. Coping. A natural human instinct. I don’t feel bad or weak because of it. I don’t even feel like I truly WANT to die. Quite the opposite, really. I just have more pain than I can cope with. It’s certainly not my first choice to die but when every day is agonizing and this is what life is, I cannot see myself living like this any longer. "

You're probably wondering what kind of messed up website that excerpt came from. You might be frustrated with the author's opinion of suicide being a coping mechanism and not being selfish. Maybe you understand and wholeheartedly agree with the above words because you've fought demons of your own. Maybe you're not sure.

Well, I'll let you on a (not so little) secret. The author of that excerpt is me. That was a few paragraphs out of my six page long suicide letter that was composed on December 31, 2016.

If you know me, that lil' nugget of information may have completely caught you off guard. In fact, the mere fact that I'm even writing this post is because I'm convinced that what I went through for the past year and half had to happen so that I can help others. I didn't see it whatsoever whilst in the thick of it--but now I do. So here I am. If you're someone that's shocked and dismayed and embarrassed at the fact that I'm writing this post...you can go. I refuse to let my experience remain enclosed when releasing it can be beautiful for others. 

Long story short--if you're new here--I've struggled, since I was about 17 or 18, with various and varying degrees of mental illnesses. Anxiety, depression, an eating disorder, a somatic disorder, and PTSD being the main ones. I have zero shame in saying that because if there's one thing I've learned it's that I didn't make any one choice that gave me any of those diseases--they were brought on by genetics, trauma, life experiences, and honestly who knows what else. But it doesn't mean I'm crazy or a disgrace to society. The reason I say that is because I am a very high-functioning member of society--4.0 GPA, involved in all the extracurriculars, graduated college at 21, etc. I'm not some crazy monster that brought these things on herself. And neither is anyone that deals with similar mental disorders.

Anyway.

The first time I had a suicidal urge was September of 2016. I lived away from family at the time. I won't go into detail so as to avoid triggering others, but it caught me off guard and terrified me. I never understood what it would have to take to bring someone to consider suicide...I could never imagine any circumstance where I would want to do that. But all of 2016 had been so rough on me--several hospital admissions--one even 3 weeks long, failed therapy attempts, failed medications, countless medical problems that weren't getting resolved...

That's the insidious nature of depression and suicidal ideation--when the urges or severe episodes come, they COME. And death feels like the only option. Because you've exhausted all your resources--all your coping skills. And YOU'RE exhausted because every day is like World War 3 in your head.  

From September to December I continued to struggle, to varying degrees, with my depression. I was always baseline depressed, and then every week or two I would have a major depressive episode. We're talking can't-get-out-of-bed-or-shower-and-want-to-crawl-out-of-your-skin-and-die type of episode. Hallucinations. Catatonic states. Memory loss. A seizure, even.

The worst episode happened around December 28th of last year. I began my letter, unsure if I would magically come out of the episode and change my mind or not. On December 31st, a series of events led me to printing out the letter and leaving it on the kitchen counter for my parents and family. I then went upstairs to my room.

I'm still alive, clearly.

I don't need to go into specifics about that time. Soon after that day, I was admitted to a program that helped me deal with my severe depression, trauma and other mental health issues for a while. I moved to Denver for about three months. I also finally gained back all of the weight (and more) that I lost from my eating disorder because after being chronically very underweight for five years, my body needed to not be under physical stress so that my mind could work on healing, as well. I have not had a major depressive episode since that time--I currently see a therapist once or twice a week, a psychologist (because I'm finally on medication even though for so long I fought it), and this week I will be starting a type of therapy for trauma called EMDR. I underwent very extensive (and expensive) psychological testing that provided extensive information about my illnesses and treatment for them from here on out. I learned a lot about myself including that I struggle with a severe somatoform disorder. This disorder makes me get very, very sick whenever I am anxious or depressed or detects a threat--my body actually begins to attack itself for survival to protect me from my brain. This very disorder is what caused all of my health issues last year. 

I have spent the last five months working harder than I ever have on my mental health. Actually, on my physical health, too! For me, I needed to gain almost sixty pounds to finally not be underweight anymore and that required a lot of sitting and A LOT of food. I've had to wake up early for therapy appointments, undergo a lot of trial and error with many medications, take time off of work completely, and prolong going to graduate school just to focus on my mental health. My mental health was so poor that I almost killed myself on more than one occasion. If you're struggling, don't think you can just distract and avoid and get through it. Pay attention to your mental health.

I spent all of 2016 and the first few months of this year in the darkest, scariest, lowest place I've ever been in. I never saw a way out. Actually, I still have days where I see no way out. But I can say with 100% surety that I went through all of this because it's going to come in GREAT handy when I have my degree in Psychology and I'm helping others that struggle like I do. Maybe there will be another reason, too, (maybe I'll meet my future husband one day when I'm walking to therapy hahaha) but I know for sure that one of my top five values in life is empathy, and I have a whole lot of empathy to give.

Now, I'm returning to work, planning on returning to school in the fall, feeling (and looking, sheesh) physically a whole lot better, and dealing with only minor anxiety and occasional depressive, intrusive thoughts. I still have flashbacks but have hope that through EMDR I will be able to lower the pain that PTSD causes me and the effect it has on my other disorders. 

On the outside it's nearly impossible to tell that I struggle in the way that I do. So many people have sent me messages or left comments asking how I "got" all of these illnesses since I'm a successful, attractive, privileged, young, white woman. My answer for that is I DON'T KNOW HOMIE. But I do know that there are millions of others like me out there thinking they're the only one out there that has some of the nastiest demons inside but hides them inside a picture perfect exterior. 

Is suicide selfish? My answer is a big fat NOPE. Because trust me, I knew that my family and friends would be devastated and truthfully the one thing that could take the edge off my urges was thinking about my three little nieces growing up. I did not want to die because I was weak, or selfish, or careless, or cowardly. I just wanted a relief from the physical and mental pain I was experiencing. But the thing is--death isn't a relief. No one is relieved in the midst of suicide. In fact, it's a very painful experience. I've got a purpose here, and I'm not leaving until I've served that purpose. 

So, no, I am not weak, selfish, careless, or cowardly. I am STRONG as hell, EMPATHETIC more than you can imagine, THOUGHTFUL in every sense of the word, and BRAVE because I'm here today after making it through the hardest time of my life thus far. And brave because it's not over yet--I'm not healed, and I may never be. But with acceptance I don't have to be completely whole. I just have to be willing to fight. I look back on that day in December spent in the hospital (and the dozens of other times) and I am shocked by the person I am now. I do not feel victimized or sorry for myself because of my illnesses. I feel empowered and special and capable. I'm a warrior. 

Annalise

If you're struggling with thoughts of suicide, please reach out. Talk to a trusting family member, friend, therapist... or call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255

What Not to Say to Someone With Depression (& What to Say Instead)

I recently talked about what makes depression a real illness and discussed how it can affect one's life. By pointing out that one cannot empathize with someone who is depressed unless they themselves have dealt with depression (and even then, all of our experiences are different and range in duration & severity) I feel that it is now important to talk about how we should talk to someone that struggles with depression. 

*First, a preface that turned into a bit more of a rant than I intended*

As a millennial, I hear a lot from older generations that we millennials are "too sensitive" and "take everything personally" and "get triggered too easily." I have a huge problem with these accusations because first of all, there is no such thing as being "too sensitive." Sensitivity is not a character flaw nor is it something that should be fixed. Sensitivity is simply part of the way we were brought up--a result of all of our life experiences and situations that molded us into who we are today. If a parent ever tells you that you're "too sensitive" then maybe you should turn that finger right back around (please don't do this unless you want to be shot) (I'm kidding...but probably don't HAHA) and tell them that they're the one who coddled you when you fell as a toddler or became enraged over teachers grading your papers unfairly...the list goes on. (I'm not saying those are bad things, because they're not. But everything that happens in our lives affect who we are.) The things we experienced as children inevitably shaped who were are today, and aside from that fact... some of us are actually just born highly sensitive.

I've had a soft, sensitive, tender heart since I popped out of the womb. I've always taken things personally and shed tears more often than what I assume to be the norm. (Is it normal to cry when you drive past a dead squirrel? Asking for a friend.) But I also am very compassionate and kindhearted and receptive to others' needs because of my sensitivity. It is not my fatal flaw, and I shouldn't be "less sensitive." And neither should you. My point in bringing up sensitivity is that oftentimes articles that counsel "What Not to Say to ___" get criticized (again, in my experience it is usually by older folks) for being nonsense because they are making us all too sensitive. "Those people should just toughen up--I shouldn't have to censor myself to make someone else feel better!" Well guess what? Mental illness rates are higher than ever before. Of course, there are a myriad of things that contribute to this--I'll save that for another article. But I have had so many insensitive things said to me that have sent me spiraling into a relapse. I struggled with severe anorexia nervosa for 3 years of my life and relapsed four times. I still relapse with anxiety & depression (honestly, almost daily) and my PTSD is triggered at the most random of times. Not every relapse is due to a comment from someone else, but a lot of times those comments are what push me over the edge. Sometimes comments from others have literally sent me so deep into a depressive episode that my hopelessness was enough to want to die.

If we can teach people how to be more considerate and understanding to those of us struggling with mental illness, why wouldn't we? Why wouldn't I use my voice to try to reach those people who could potentially say the RIGHT thing to someone who is on the edge of life and death? Call me too sensitive, but I'm just trying to save some precious, vulnerable humans out there. Why? BECAUSE I'M SENSITIVE. Sue me. Don't sue me. I have anxiety. And no lawyer. Okay. 

*end rant, and on to what you came here for...*

When someone struggling with depression thinks/says...

No one understands.

What to say: You're not alone in this. I'm here for you no matter what, even if I don't understand I will try my very best. (And then actually do that.) 

What not to say: Other people have it way worse than you. (OR ANY VARIATION OF THIS !!!)

This is hopeless. I wish to die.

What to say: You are so important to me. If you're gone I will be broken and devastated. (Don't guilt them, but let them know they're important to you. Depressed individuals are more likely to put others first due to their [usual] hatred toward themselves and lack of prioritizing their own feelings.)

What not to say: You're being so dramatic. You don't actually want to die. Don't tell me that. You're not really going to kill yourself. (All of those things are so wrong and yes, they probably DO want to die and VERY WELL MAY kill themselves.)

I can't do this anymore.

What to say: Just give 'em a hug. And reassure them that you know they can even if they can't see it and that you're there to help. If it helps, use the "10 second" rule. You can do anything for 10 seconds. Then repeat that over and over and over and over...hey, they made it another day. 

What not to say: Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There's nothing wrong. Your life is fine. (You can't compare your experiences here. No matter how seemingly 'fine' one's life is, depression is a disease and can affect anyone at any time. Celebrities seem to have it all, right? Isn't it odd the amount of celebrities that go to rehab but the amount of joyous minimalists?) 

I'm too broken. I'm stupid. I'm insane.

What to say: You're not going crazy. Depression is real but let's try to manage it.

What not to say: You're so negative. You're so miserable. Be more optimistic. You're always depressed. I'm tired of you complaining all the time. Snap out of it. (Avoid all "you're so" statements. Unless you're saying fabulous or funny. Or sexy.)

I'm such a burden to everyone.

What to say: I'm not going to leave, abandon, or give up on you. So buckle up, and don't worry about me. I'll make sure to take care of myself, too, so that I can be there for you. <--Only say this if you truly are stable and can take on the responsibility. 

What not to say: Then get better so we can stop having to worry about you. I think your depression is a way of punishing me. It's your own fault. Stop being so needy. I've had to miss so much work/school/other obligations for you.

You don't get it. No one gets it.

What to say: No, I don't. But I can be whatever you need me to be and try to offer my compassion.

What not to say: Yeah, I get it. I was depressed once for several days. I just started working out/eating clean/drinking tea and then I was okay. (DO NOT OFFER ANY HEALTH, FITNESS, SLEEP, SUPPLEMENT ADVICE UNLESS YOU ARE A DOCTOR.) (ALSO: NO I WILL NOT GO VEGAN.)

And, finally, here are some more things you should NEVER say. Like, ever:

Why are you depressed?

It's all in your head.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

You have it so good.

Happiness is a choice.

Have you been praying?

Just get out more.

You're being selfish.

A person your age should be having the time of your life! (<--Ouch, thanks dude.)

Depression is a symptom of your sin against God. (Yep, I've really heard that one.)

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I can't be around you right now, you're so depressing/miserable/rude.

You should get a hobby. (Yes, let me take up tango while my body is so fatigued that I cannot move!)

This too shall pass! 

You are responsible for your happiness! Change your mind! 

My favorite is when someone asks how I'm doing, and I respond honestly (I'm not about saying 'I'M GOOD HOW ARE YOU?!' when really I want to throw up everywhere and crawl in a hole) and then they are caught off guard so they say, "Oh... well you look great!!" That's usually what happens. Like..."Oh, thanks? I feel terrible and wish I was not alive right now but I'm glad my face is aesthetically pleasing to you. Have a blessed day." 

So what helps?

What helps me is getting a back rub. Sometimes I feel like talking and sometimes I don't. Usually, I don't but I should or I stay stuck in my head. I need someone to listen and respond without offering advice or trying to "fix" things. Depression comes and goes in waves. I know that the super intense moments will eventually pass, so I just have to get through them one at a time.

What would you add to this list of what to say or not to say? If you struggle with depression, what helps you? 

Photos courtesy of Gemma Correll (She's amazing!)

You're Not The Only One...

You're not the only one that wonders if you're the only one like you. 

You're not the only one that cries because you want to give up on life and end it all.

You're not the only one that wonders what it would be like if you were to be gone. To no longer exist.

You're not the only one that struggles daily with a voice (or VOICES) in your head telling you... that you suck. You fail. There's no point. You just made a fool of yourself. Why are you even trying? You keep failing. Are you really wearing that? You look disgusting. They don't like you. You're so screwed up. No one else is as screwed up as you. These voices make life utterly unlivable most days. You shut down. Can't function. Go numb. It's too much.

You're not the only one to ruminate for so long that it breaks you and you crumble.

You're not the only one to have to leave the store, work, school, or church because your brain talks you out of everything for NO REASON and you start to physically feel ill. You're not the only one that does this every day and with nearly every obligation. Leaving early starts to become accomplishment over not going in the first place. 

You're not the only one that views yourself differently than you really are. Or the only one that wishes you could shrink or grow or smooth, cut, shave, cut off a part of your body. Or even just have an entirely different one!

You're not the only one to feel like the only one. The only one that feels this way...that thinks this way...that acts this way. 

It's just that we don't talk about it. We don't always talk about the dark things because we feel like we're the only one that experiences them. Guess what? This is not true. 

I know I am not the only one that struggles in the ways that I struggle. I'm not the only one to have daily panic attacks and weekly suicidal ideation. I'm not the only one that has extreme highs and even more extreme lows, or bites my nails until they bleed while I contemplate every single limitation I have and why things won't work. I'm not the only one that has a deep hatred toward myself but tries extremely hard toward loving myself more every day. I'm not the only one that paints my life in a different light than it truly is via social media and fake interactions with acquaintances, friends, and family. I am not, and you are not alone. 

What do you do that makes you feel alone? Different? Broken? Screwed up? Whatever it is, you're not alone. Talk about it. You'll find out.

on perfectionism

The following is an excerpt from my work-in-progress self-help book, Moldy Lemons: Finding Happiness Despite Pain.

Each chapter of the book focuses on one element that can contribute to pain in one's life--be it chronic illness, mental illness, stress, and more. Each chapter talks a bit about the topic, my experience with it, and then explains to readers how we can "turn moldy lemons into lemonade" or in other words, make the best of our lives despite how much they can suck. This is the chapter titled "on perfectionism".

on perfectionism

When I was just six years old I remember stressing out immensely when the digital clock on my father’s car read “7:55” and we were just barely pulling out of the driveway. You see, the first bell, signaling that we were to walk to our classroom, rang at 7:50. The second bell, signaling that we had better get our butts in our seats, rang at 7:55. The last bell rang at 8:00, and if you weren’t in your seat by then you were marked tardy.

TARDY. A word that piqued my anxiety. A word that teachers used to refer to the bad kids—the kids who thought it was okay to wear pajama pants and have toothpaste stains on their chins. The kids that never properly (or in a timely manner) covered their books to prevent water damage. The kids that certainly didn’t decorate those properly covered books with felt pens to reflect their shining personalities like I did. Tardy was a word that I would never let anyone use in the same sentence as Annie Mishler—a tiny but mighty little first grader.

The clock read 7:55. My father was running slightly behind schedule to get together the lunches for my sisters and I, and my little six year-old heart was racing. I didn’t know it at the time, but that feeling of sheer panic, powerlessness, and despair would later get me a nice shiny diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

7:57. Okay, we only live three minutes from my elementary school. If dad drops me off at the closest gate to the playground, I can run really fast and try to make it in the door of room 8 by 7:59. Then I won’t be tardy. No, no, no...I’ll never make it. I’m going to burst through the door at 8:01 and it will be too late. My perfect record of being on time every day will be ruined. I’ll be so embarrassed and then my face will turn red and everyone will know that I’m embarrassed.

Tales of a Self-Proclaimed Perfectionist

My parents never forced me to be perfect. I was never told that I had to get straight A’s or perfect attendance or be valedictorian. Those were just things that I did because I knew I had to. Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Because if I didn’t, the world would obviously end.

My parents actually encouraged me to care less about all of those things. They encouraged me to just focus on doing my best. Um, hello? I am doing my best. My best just happens to be perfection, and if I fall short of perfection then I am not doing my best. Why can’t you understand that? Why am I the only one that gets that?

It wasn’t just school. I went to my first ballet class when I was three years old, and from that point forward I had to be the best dancer. Ballet, tap, jazz, lyrical, hip-hop...I had to be the best. I tried out for my high school’s dance team as an 8th grader so that I could be the only freshman on the team the following year. All throughout my career of dancing I had to make sure I was the best. Front and center. Always on count. Never missing a beat, forgetting a move or falling out of a turn. Until my resignation from formal dance lessons at age 18 you better believe I made sure I was the best. Thankfully, for the sake of my psyche, I was naturally gifted as a dancer. I can’t imagine how things would have ended up if I had two left feet.

I started piano lessons when I was six. Much like dance, I had to be the best. I was given a few pieces to practice each week at my lesson, and the next week I would play the pieces for my teacher. The other students would repeat this process a number of times until they finally had the songs down. Me? I made sure I had them perfect by the next lesson, so that I could get more songs. Then, I made sure those were perfect because if I messed up while playing a song for my teacher the world would obviously end. Much like dancing, playing the piano came naturally to me. Again, I cannot imagine the inner turmoil I would have faced if I was tone deaf or if my brain didn’t double as a metronome.

Soccer. Volleyball. Running. The spelling bee. (First place reigning champion every year...just saying.) Art class. These are all things I had to be the best at or it wasn’t even worth trying.

Track and field. Singing. Girl’s wrestling. Three things that I was not the best at, and so I simply quit. (To be fair, there was no one else in my weight class so I never really got a chance to be the best wrestler.)

The point I’m trying to illustrate is that all my life I legitimately thought that I had to be the best. It was not even that I wanted to be the best—I had to be. There was no part of my brain that told me that simply trying was enough. It was all or nothing. (If you ever wondered how I ended up with an eating disorder...)

Perfectionism is Evil

The word ‘perfectionist’ is sometimes used, and viewed, in a positive light. Folks will describe themselves as a perfectionist, say, in a job interview, in order to convince the interviewer that they will get the job done and be the best choice for said job. Here’s why that’s not a good thing.

Perfectionism is evil. Anyone who attaches the word ‘perfectionist’ to themselves and doesn’t also struggle with extreme stress, guilt, and rigidity is simply using the word incorrectly. That person probably is very hardworking and driven—anal, even—but not a perfectionist.

Perfectionism only leads to anxiety. It will not motivate you. It will not reward you. It does not make you perfect or better than anyone else. It will never satisfy you. It will leave you constantly grasping for air, but you’ll never be able to take a full, deep breath.

Those of us with GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder) typically struggle with perfectionism. If we’re not being the best, we are overcome with anxiety. Oddly enough, even when we are, in our minds, being the best, we are still overcome with anxiety. Because there’s always something that we’re not doing well enough. The next thing is already in our minds and we’re formulating 6,000 different reasons why we are likely to fail.

I cannot speak to social anxiety because despite my anxiety-ridden brain I am a social butterfly. Somehow, all throughout my childhood and adolescence I still had fantastic friendships and relationships despite my drive to be the best. Maybe I also had to be the best friend? The best girlfriend? The most bubbly and outgoing? Who knows.

Let’s Make Some Lemonade

In striving for happiness and peace in our lives we must let go of the notion that everything can be perfect. We must realize that we simply cannot always be the best and that is okay. Sometimes we may not even try to do our best! Guess what? That’s okay, too! Everyone gets lazy. We are only human, after all.

I know it is easier said than done to tell a perfectionist to ‘just loosen up’. But I’m going to tell you anyway. Just loosen up. How do you expect to make sweet lemonade if you’re not even allowing yourself to taste it? Are you just trusting everyone else that says it tastes sweet and delicious?

There is life out there to be lived, and you cannot fully experience life if you are so wrapped up in being the best at everything.

Maybe you feel like this doesn’t apply to you because you only feel that you are the best in one area of your life. Maybe you’re the most fit person you know. Maybe you devote your life to fitness and claim it is your passion. Maybe you actually believe that it is your calling to diet for weeks and flaunt your body on a stage wearing 2 square inches of fabric. Maybe you have literally fooled yourself into thinking that fitness is life.

Maybe it’s your business. Or running. Or pole dancing. Or baking. Whatever it is that you think you have to be the BEST at—stop thinking that! There is more to life than just one thing, and you will never understand that until you just loosen up.

So please, don’t use ‘perfectionist’ as a trait on your resume. If anything—use it as a descriptor of your weakness when you’re inevitably asked that question in a job interview. (That question is the worst for a true perfectionist. What’s my weakness? Um, I have none. Move along.)

Oh, and if you’re wondering—I made it on time to class that day. And every other day for the rest of my student life.

I can't wait to get this book published and on bookshelves! For now, this is all ya get ;)

Read This If You're Falling Behind in Life

I know the feeling. The feeling that everyone else is ahead of you. The feeling that everyone else is doing big, fantastic things with their lives but you aren't. 

This feeling comes and goes for me--sometimes it is subtle, and other times it's almost unbearable.

I started college at 17, and even when I graduated in only 3 1/2 years I felt like everyone else was still ahead of me. I felt like I wasn't doing enough. I felt like I wouldn't ever be enough, and my constant trying was of no use.

Now as I see friends and old classmates my age and even younger getting married, starting families, traveling the world...the feeling of not being as far along in my life as I should be intensifies.

I should be married! (Thinks the girl with no boyfriend.) I want babies! (Thinks the girl who can't keep a plant alive.) I want to travel the world and see amazing places while I'm young! (Thinks the girl who has been ill for 6 months, barely able to leave bed some days.)

I'm about to tell you something only because I need to remind myself.

We all have different stories. We all are shaped by different events in our life--those we choose, and also those that choose us. It would be impossible for every single person to be on the same life path.

Aside from the fact that social media makes others' lives appear perfectly seamless, put-together, and successful, there is also the reality that they're just different.

Can you imagine how boring it would be if you walked into a library full of books, only to find that every single book was exactly the same? The books looked different, sure, but upon opening each and every book you found that the words were identical--the stories the same. 

Those people who get married at 19 aren't any 'farther along in life' than the person who is still in college working toward a degree. They're also not farther along than the person who is still saving to go to college, or even the person that decided college wasn't for them.

The person who gets a 9-5 job straight out of college isn't farther along in life than the person who decides to take a year off to travel the world. They're also not farther along than the person who spends a year doing countless interviews but can't seem to catch a break.

Those that struggle with addiction, illness, injuries, and traumatic life changes are not miles behind those who are coasting along. They're just in the middle of their story's conflict. Like any good story, the resolution will come.

There is no such thing as being 'far ahead' or 'farther along' in life because we cannot read the whole story yet. I always was the kid reading ahead to the end of the book, so this really bums me out.

There is no sense in feeling like we should be doing more, accomplishing more, or be at a different place in our lives because that's simply not how it works. (Sorry.)

I'm not saying we shouldn't set goals, work hard, and strive to better ourselves. I am saying that we are where we are in this very moment because that's just how our story goes.

You're not falling behind in life. You just have a different story.

STRESS vs. ANXIETY

The terms "stress" and "anxiety" are used interchangeably in everyday conversation. This makes me want to rip my hair out.

STRESS is a response to daily pressures. It's normal--even good, at times. 

ANXIETY has no identifiable root cause. This is because it is a LEGITIMATE mental disorder. If you say you're "so anxious because of ____" you are using the word anxiety incorrectly. You're stressed. Worried, maybe. Nervous. Overwhelmed. NOT having anxiety. If it were anxiety, you wouldn't know why you're feeling what you're feeling.

STRESS typically goes away when the stressor is taken out of the picture. If it does not completely go away, it is still drastically reduced and that reduction can be attributed to the stressor no longer being an issue.

ANXIETY usually does not go away when things change. Things can be perfectly fine and anxiety can strike-- leaving one paralyzed.

STRESS causes your blood pressure to rise due to the release of adrenaline. It can cause your heart to race and pupils to dilate, preparing to take action.

ANXIETY can be debilitating. Heart palpitations, dizziness, nausea, diarrhea, insomnia, anger, depersonalization, extreme panic, clenched jaws, muscle spasms, lack of oxygen, and the strongest feeling of impending doom imaginable. Obligations because impossible. Simple tasks become increasingly difficult. Talking takes all of one's energy.

STRESS is normal, and everyone experiences it regularly.

ANXIETY is not, and only 1.5% of the US population is believed to have diagnosable anxiety.

So PLEASE. Next time you or someone else uses the word "anxiety" in place of "stress", think about what that is doing. That is belittling a serious mental illness that is not even in the same zipcode as just 'being stressed.'

I'm not saying you have to be diagnosed with an anxiety disorder to experience it, because so many go undiagnosed. If you experience symptoms of anxiety for at least 6 months then you should absolutely TALK to someone and consider your options. Anxiety is an awful monster, but you're stronger than it. So am I. 

What Really Matters Doesn't Really Even Matter

I find it both interesting and disturbing that often, the things we think about, stress about and make ourselves sick over are the least important things in our lives.

So many people make their lives about weight loss and fitness--sometimes this escalates to a place of obsession and disorder. Sometimes the damage is irreversible without extreme intervention and help. Sometimes this causes them to burn out and rebound in the opposite direction. All of the time, it causes shame, guilt, and unhappiness.

So many of us spend 85% of our waking hours focused on how we physically appear to others or how we portray ourselves on our various social media platforms--in general, we are extremely hyper-focused on what others may think of us. 

Far too often we make ourselves sick over getting everything done. We wake up with a "To Do" list that competes with a Tolkien novel. Unless we check off every item on that list we view ourselves as a failure. We weren't as productive as we could've been--as we should've been.

We always want the next best thing--the newest phone, nicest clothes, trendy accessories, ridiculously priced celebrity lip kit...

We stress about the money that we need to attain all of these luxuries that are no longer viewed as luxuries--no, they're now necessities. We need these things in order to thrive. In order to show the world that we mean something. 

The cleanest, most non-GMO, organic, vegan lunch. The flat stomach and huge round butt. The big plump lips. The designer clothes and shoes. The perfect Instagram aesthetic. The whitest teeth and softest, longest hair. The fastest car. The 5-day juice cleanse that really should just come with a warning or an adult diaper. The most followers. The perfect job. The tannest skin. More. More. More!

I find it so very intriguing that the things we place the most focus on are the things that do not matter.

Imagine if we all stressed over the amount of good deeds we did that day instead of how terrible our new haircut looks?

Picture a world where people have extreme anxiety over the fact that many people on this planet are starving, dying of disease, and homeless, instead of anxiety over an acne breakout or a text message with no response. (Or worse: 'K')

Pretend that we spent our free hours writing letters to those we miss, spending 100% quality, undivided time with family and loved ones, or serving those in need rather than scrolling through Instagram, online shopping for more things to stress about, and working overtime to make more money to BUY more things to stress about.

What if we simply took all of the wasted time, energy, and mental strain that we place on these unimportant things and replaced them with lovely, beautiful, meaningful things?

Your body, your possessions, your social status...none of these things will be with you when you die. Heck, they won't even be here next year, because we are always changing, evolving, growing...

Spend less time focused on the things that do not matter. Spend more time doing things to enrich your soul and the souls of those around you. When you do this, you will find that the things that really mattered before are a grain of sand on the beach of our lives. When you do this, you will find happiness without even searching for it. 

The sooner we can realize that what 'matters' doesn't really even matter, the sooner we can be happy. The sooner we can actually live our lives. The sooner we can be free.