COVID-19 has been honestly the worst thing to come into existence in my lifetime.
Between school closures, businesses closing, you name it my entire world has kinda been turned upside down.
My life went from a very consistent schedule of work, school, and church to me going to work, trying to do school work, and my favorite set of missionaries being sent home back to Utah. Before this virus, I was functioning and stable. I had just gotten out of manic episode after seeing an ex boyfriend when I wasn’t supposed to, having a super hard coming out experience with someone else, and working on getting a therapy appointment.
The day my life changed was a week in a half ago. I went who work, went to dinner with my branch president and his wife, then went to hang out with one of my girlfriends. After that, this virus kinda took over the world. My friends saw their restaurants becoming less busy, my siblings had an early spring break, everything felt real.
Then this week happened. All the restaurants in my town shut down which boosted unemployment. My once thriving town is now a ghost town. My work that is normally filled with tourists of all kinds, and restaurants buying liquor seemed very empty.
I find myself once again in a manic state. I find myself needing answers to questions no one knows. What are landlords gonna do about unemployment? Will my job survive? Will my testimony survive if not the constant push of church? Will I ever get a therapy appointment? Will life ever really return to normal? Questions I ask myself daily.
COVID-19 is deadly. Between just the virus itself and the mental capacity of what it’s doing, life doesn’t feel normal. I feel like everyday it’s a new crisis and I’m honestly at max limit of what else could possibly go wrong. I feel scared to start any type of relationship romantically, I feel scared to even sign up for my next semester of school. This virus is basically ruining my life in more ways than one.
To the lady who told me, “You are young, you should be fine.” I hope you realize how damaging your words truly are. I am not worried about getting sick. I’m worried about my mental health, my bills, and potentially my job if it comes to that. I’m worried about my best friends who are unemployed. My OCD/bipolar lives on structure and knowing what to expect next and currently that’s not even an option I’m devastated for my brother who was supposed to graduate in May but looking like his whole senior year is gone. I am scared that my baby brother could just happen to contract it in any way. I’m heartbroken.
This is a very strange time to be alive in. Please check in on all your friends with mental health issues. We are all freaking out. Please try to stop mass hysteria. That’s what is eating my brain alive. Thankful for every single person that has reached out to me in terms of a text, phone call, making me laugh at work I am truly grateful for the people in my life. Thank you.
Wednesday, March 18, 2020
Thursday, February 20, 2020
Break The Stigma
There’s still a stigma around mental health.
I still get weird looks from people when I tell them I struggle so here’s my story.
I remember it starting in my early teens. I remember feeling so awkward in school and never feeling good enough. I constantly got picked on plus the hormones it wasn’t a fun time. I listened to that teenage angst music. Cue Simple Plan and Paramore. It helped.
Some of my teenage years were spent mentally/emotionally abused. I won’t name names but it wasn’t fun. I self isolated a lot and took those depression tests on the internet that all came out positive and it scared me. I knew I was depressed and I never wanted to admit it to anyone. It took me years to finally admit it to my parents. When I did, I was met with love but at the same time it didn’t happen.
Fast forward to my senior year of high school, I should’ve caught the signs my mental health wasn’t good. I was in an AP class that stressed me out completely and by the time my last class came around I could barley keep my eyes open. I faked it till I made it. I ended up passing all my classes barely and was so excited to go to college.
College and the year after is a different time period. I loved my time at Brigham Young University - Idaho. I love and adore the West. At the same time, I feel like the struggles with my mental health were brightened there. I remember clear as day there was always one class I’d be majorly depressed in. It was my hardest of the semester and I was extremely jealous of these couple of girls in my class who seemed to be getting special treatment. I ended up failing the class because by the end of the semester my mental health was trashed. I came home from school determined to serve a full time mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Nothing could stop me. My bishop was hesitant, my recent return missionary boyfriend was hesitant but man I wanted to. My mental health was the defining factor in me not going.
Roughly, the year after was when things got really bad and my world kinda ended. My engagement to a boy who I loved and cherished ended. I later met and dated a boy who later on sexually assaulted me and basically took my entire existence from me. That same year I was diagnosed with severe depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder and eventually coming an eating disorder.
In May of 2017, I had my first inpatient hospitalization. I was angry. Oh so angry. I was missing work. They put me in isolation for the first 12 hours. I had nurses around me all the time. I had group therapy and other therapy and it was a mess. I remember my psychiatrist who I was seeing prior to my hospitalization also worked in the hospital was assigned to my case and he didn’t seem happy I was there ether. I will never forget the time I was trying to nap and he came in turned my light on and made me talk after he gave me a lecture on not talking naps as a psych patient. The clearest memory I have was my first therapy session and this guy was so excited about treatment and how it changed his life and how excited he was to go home to his new life. In my mind, I hated him with a passion. Who the hell is excited about treatment? Certainly not me.
After spending 5 days in treatment, I went home with a safety plan and more of a will to live. I thought maybe I would get better. That didn’t seem to happen. I spent that summer with an engraving eating disorder, more doctor appointments and not a will to live. It took lots of ER visits till one time in September of 2017 where a nurse got tired of my attitude and she definitely thought i needed to go. She involuntary committed me. To this day, I dislike her but again if I didn’t go the second time I wouldn’t be alive. I remember my siblings telling me I needed to go get help but me not wanting to go.
That week in September changed my life. I spent a week in a hospital that saved my life. I worked with a social worker who inspired me to go into social work. I got the help I ended. Made ever lasting friends and it opened my eyes majorly to live.
I’ve spent everyday since then in recovery. I moved to Vermont with my dad which at first sucked but again another hidden gem. I’ve had my days. I’ve learned how to cope and I’ve learned how to deal. Since then, my baby brother was born and I’ve never had a greater reason to live. I tell myself that he never needs to hear of the person I was and that he needs to know who I am in person.
As much as I’ve been in recovery not everything is peachy. I’ve learned more to express my emotions instead of suppress them and that has lead to many many times crying. I’ve had lots of manic depressive episodes that has lead to me not wanting to do anything. I’ve had manic moments turn into stupid decisions.
I now work 40 hours a week sometimes more depending on the week. I am also in school part time trying to get my social work degree eventually with the hope of helping others who went through almost what I did. Eventually leading to break the stigma around mental health. People always ask me how and why I work so much and do school and to be honest it’s a coping mechanism. If I stay busy, I am not caught up in my head.
I am not ashamed to struggle with Mental Health and I hope everyday that it gets easier for people to tell their story.
I still get weird looks from people when I tell them I struggle so here’s my story.
I remember it starting in my early teens. I remember feeling so awkward in school and never feeling good enough. I constantly got picked on plus the hormones it wasn’t a fun time. I listened to that teenage angst music. Cue Simple Plan and Paramore. It helped.
Some of my teenage years were spent mentally/emotionally abused. I won’t name names but it wasn’t fun. I self isolated a lot and took those depression tests on the internet that all came out positive and it scared me. I knew I was depressed and I never wanted to admit it to anyone. It took me years to finally admit it to my parents. When I did, I was met with love but at the same time it didn’t happen.
Fast forward to my senior year of high school, I should’ve caught the signs my mental health wasn’t good. I was in an AP class that stressed me out completely and by the time my last class came around I could barley keep my eyes open. I faked it till I made it. I ended up passing all my classes barely and was so excited to go to college.
College and the year after is a different time period. I loved my time at Brigham Young University - Idaho. I love and adore the West. At the same time, I feel like the struggles with my mental health were brightened there. I remember clear as day there was always one class I’d be majorly depressed in. It was my hardest of the semester and I was extremely jealous of these couple of girls in my class who seemed to be getting special treatment. I ended up failing the class because by the end of the semester my mental health was trashed. I came home from school determined to serve a full time mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Nothing could stop me. My bishop was hesitant, my recent return missionary boyfriend was hesitant but man I wanted to. My mental health was the defining factor in me not going.
Roughly, the year after was when things got really bad and my world kinda ended. My engagement to a boy who I loved and cherished ended. I later met and dated a boy who later on sexually assaulted me and basically took my entire existence from me. That same year I was diagnosed with severe depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder and eventually coming an eating disorder.
In May of 2017, I had my first inpatient hospitalization. I was angry. Oh so angry. I was missing work. They put me in isolation for the first 12 hours. I had nurses around me all the time. I had group therapy and other therapy and it was a mess. I remember my psychiatrist who I was seeing prior to my hospitalization also worked in the hospital was assigned to my case and he didn’t seem happy I was there ether. I will never forget the time I was trying to nap and he came in turned my light on and made me talk after he gave me a lecture on not talking naps as a psych patient. The clearest memory I have was my first therapy session and this guy was so excited about treatment and how it changed his life and how excited he was to go home to his new life. In my mind, I hated him with a passion. Who the hell is excited about treatment? Certainly not me.
After spending 5 days in treatment, I went home with a safety plan and more of a will to live. I thought maybe I would get better. That didn’t seem to happen. I spent that summer with an engraving eating disorder, more doctor appointments and not a will to live. It took lots of ER visits till one time in September of 2017 where a nurse got tired of my attitude and she definitely thought i needed to go. She involuntary committed me. To this day, I dislike her but again if I didn’t go the second time I wouldn’t be alive. I remember my siblings telling me I needed to go get help but me not wanting to go.
That week in September changed my life. I spent a week in a hospital that saved my life. I worked with a social worker who inspired me to go into social work. I got the help I ended. Made ever lasting friends and it opened my eyes majorly to live.
I’ve spent everyday since then in recovery. I moved to Vermont with my dad which at first sucked but again another hidden gem. I’ve had my days. I’ve learned how to cope and I’ve learned how to deal. Since then, my baby brother was born and I’ve never had a greater reason to live. I tell myself that he never needs to hear of the person I was and that he needs to know who I am in person.
As much as I’ve been in recovery not everything is peachy. I’ve learned more to express my emotions instead of suppress them and that has lead to many many times crying. I’ve had lots of manic depressive episodes that has lead to me not wanting to do anything. I’ve had manic moments turn into stupid decisions.
I now work 40 hours a week sometimes more depending on the week. I am also in school part time trying to get my social work degree eventually with the hope of helping others who went through almost what I did. Eventually leading to break the stigma around mental health. People always ask me how and why I work so much and do school and to be honest it’s a coping mechanism. If I stay busy, I am not caught up in my head.
I am not ashamed to struggle with Mental Health and I hope everyday that it gets easier for people to tell their story.
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Dear 22
As someone who turns 23 on FRIDAY I thought I’d write a little letter to the last 362 days of my life.
Dear 22,
Every birthday since I turned 21, I’m amazed. I wasn’t supposed to be alive past 21 and here we are almost to 23 I am amazed and proud. I am proud in more ways than you know.
This last year hasn’t been the kindest between heart breaks, the faith crisis, and kinda just everything else giving up seemed the option. But I didn’t. I dedicated myself to doing all sorts of things like going back to church, got my temple recommend, got to go to the temple TWICE, and signed up back for school. I’m amazed.
22 brought two people in my life who I swear will forever bring an impact to my everyday life. The first is someone who broke me but also taught me so much about self love and how to really truly fall in love with myself all over again. Without him, I don’t think I’d be where you are at now. I rebuilt yourself from the ground up and decided what was worth fighting for. Thank you.
The second person is someone who came into my life at the time where I didn’t know where I was mentally, emotionally, physically with anything. I was lost. He kinda stayed at bay but then fought for me when I needed it. He’s the guy who got me on a motorcycle for the first time since before my sexual assault something I didn’t think I’d ever do again. He has brought such joy and such light into such a dark world. I pray that God has a plan for us that includes him staying in my life. If it’s meant to be then it’s meant to be.
22 has brought me to tears so many times. Between dating, some minor/major faith crisis, finally realizing that cutting toxic people out of my life is what it’s good it needed to happen. If I have learned anything in the last year of my life, it is that crying is SO necessary sometimes.
My mental health has slowly but surely becoming more in check. I spent the fall tracking when I would go into a manic episode or when I would go into a depressive episode. I would practice so many coping mechanisms and learn more for my anxiety. It happens. I do need to learn how to cope more with my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder more but again all in due time. I will admit in the last week or two I have been more angry with having multiple mental illness. I want to be normal and for my brain to not feel like it’s constantly spinning like a very fast Ferris wheel but hey maybe someday there will be a cure.
22 has been eye opening and it has been quite the adventure. It hasn’t been the best year of my life but it hasn’t been the worst so in the end I call that a success. I’ve learned more than ever in the last year that everything happens for a reason. Wether it’s relationships, work, school, and church. God has a plan and I’m here for it.
I have plans and hopes for this next year of life. Will I share them? Probably not. I gotta keep someone on their toes.
Here’s to the end of 22 and to 23. And according to Blink-182 no one likes you when your 23 so I guess good luck to me.
Dear 22,
Every birthday since I turned 21, I’m amazed. I wasn’t supposed to be alive past 21 and here we are almost to 23 I am amazed and proud. I am proud in more ways than you know.
This last year hasn’t been the kindest between heart breaks, the faith crisis, and kinda just everything else giving up seemed the option. But I didn’t. I dedicated myself to doing all sorts of things like going back to church, got my temple recommend, got to go to the temple TWICE, and signed up back for school. I’m amazed.
22 brought two people in my life who I swear will forever bring an impact to my everyday life. The first is someone who broke me but also taught me so much about self love and how to really truly fall in love with myself all over again. Without him, I don’t think I’d be where you are at now. I rebuilt yourself from the ground up and decided what was worth fighting for. Thank you.
The second person is someone who came into my life at the time where I didn’t know where I was mentally, emotionally, physically with anything. I was lost. He kinda stayed at bay but then fought for me when I needed it. He’s the guy who got me on a motorcycle for the first time since before my sexual assault something I didn’t think I’d ever do again. He has brought such joy and such light into such a dark world. I pray that God has a plan for us that includes him staying in my life. If it’s meant to be then it’s meant to be.
22 has brought me to tears so many times. Between dating, some minor/major faith crisis, finally realizing that cutting toxic people out of my life is what it’s good it needed to happen. If I have learned anything in the last year of my life, it is that crying is SO necessary sometimes.
My mental health has slowly but surely becoming more in check. I spent the fall tracking when I would go into a manic episode or when I would go into a depressive episode. I would practice so many coping mechanisms and learn more for my anxiety. It happens. I do need to learn how to cope more with my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder more but again all in due time. I will admit in the last week or two I have been more angry with having multiple mental illness. I want to be normal and for my brain to not feel like it’s constantly spinning like a very fast Ferris wheel but hey maybe someday there will be a cure.
22 has been eye opening and it has been quite the adventure. It hasn’t been the best year of my life but it hasn’t been the worst so in the end I call that a success. I’ve learned more than ever in the last year that everything happens for a reason. Wether it’s relationships, work, school, and church. God has a plan and I’m here for it.
I have plans and hopes for this next year of life. Will I share them? Probably not. I gotta keep someone on their toes.
Here’s to the end of 22 and to 23. And according to Blink-182 no one likes you when your 23 so I guess good luck to me.
Monday, December 23, 2019
A Letter to 2019
I tried to write this once but here I am.
It is because being home really brings back all the memories.
2019 has been a joke. I laugh when I say that because it basically has been. It feels like it has been the worst and best year of my life. Between my faith crisis and a toxic relationship that felt like it could've killed me to being the happiest I have been in a very long time. It is a life.
I am happy to be alive. I can't thank my friends and my family for basically keeping me alive through another year. I know my mental health has gotten so much better but at the same time I always need my friends and my family to get me through it.
I thank the toxic relationship I was in. It has taken me so long to be appreciative from what that has taught me. I know what I deserve. I know what I want. I know that I was treated so badly and that no apologize would ever fix it but I forgive him. I actually forgive him what he put me through. Took a very long time. If it wasn't for him, I don't think I would be in the situation that I am in now. I wish him nothing but the best for him and his new girlfriend. I hope things work out.
My faith crisis took most of the year I want to say but at the end I am so happy and thankful. I went into this year freshly going back to church after swearing up and down that I wouldn't and it helped. I don't think I have gotten down and prayed to my knees before this year. Towards the end of the year, my church started a Young Singles Adult group to meet every Sunday and it has brought blessings in itself. I have built such a testimony with so many other friends and I am thankful for each and everyone of them. I do have to thank God for His hand in my life. He has strengthened relationships with my friends and family members, He has brought me into the path that I needed to be.
At one point, this year I worked two jobs and was in school part time. You may say I am crazy but I loved it. I loved being busy. I loved realizing I had such a purpose. I have so much going with being as busy as I am. I realized that I can stay out of so much trouble.
As for me currently? I am home in the great state of Ohio until early January. When I return, I go back to work and school for the semester. I am in a good place. I have such a feeling that 2020 is going to bring the best blessings.
Happy Holidays everyone! See ya in 2020!
It is because being home really brings back all the memories.
2019 has been a joke. I laugh when I say that because it basically has been. It feels like it has been the worst and best year of my life. Between my faith crisis and a toxic relationship that felt like it could've killed me to being the happiest I have been in a very long time. It is a life.
I am happy to be alive. I can't thank my friends and my family for basically keeping me alive through another year. I know my mental health has gotten so much better but at the same time I always need my friends and my family to get me through it.
I thank the toxic relationship I was in. It has taken me so long to be appreciative from what that has taught me. I know what I deserve. I know what I want. I know that I was treated so badly and that no apologize would ever fix it but I forgive him. I actually forgive him what he put me through. Took a very long time. If it wasn't for him, I don't think I would be in the situation that I am in now. I wish him nothing but the best for him and his new girlfriend. I hope things work out.
My faith crisis took most of the year I want to say but at the end I am so happy and thankful. I went into this year freshly going back to church after swearing up and down that I wouldn't and it helped. I don't think I have gotten down and prayed to my knees before this year. Towards the end of the year, my church started a Young Singles Adult group to meet every Sunday and it has brought blessings in itself. I have built such a testimony with so many other friends and I am thankful for each and everyone of them. I do have to thank God for His hand in my life. He has strengthened relationships with my friends and family members, He has brought me into the path that I needed to be.
At one point, this year I worked two jobs and was in school part time. You may say I am crazy but I loved it. I loved being busy. I loved realizing I had such a purpose. I have so much going with being as busy as I am. I realized that I can stay out of so much trouble.
As for me currently? I am home in the great state of Ohio until early January. When I return, I go back to work and school for the semester. I am in a good place. I have such a feeling that 2020 is going to bring the best blessings.
Happy Holidays everyone! See ya in 2020!
Saturday, November 16, 2019
2.5
2.5 years ago my life was completely different.
2.5 years ago, probably exactly at this time I was sitting in treatment angry at everything in the world. I was a couple of months post diagnosis from my severe depression, anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and bipolar disorder and I wanted to die.
I spent all of 2017 on all sorts of medications, different therapies, and by the end of that year I would be inpatient treatment twice and living in Vermont by the time the new year came around.
I spent the following year dealing with the hardest part in my opinion.
Recovery.
July of that year, I lost my health insurance and could not afford my medications. I ended up spending fourth of July detoxing at work.
That summer, between couch hoping, moving to a different town, starting a new job, and still figuring out my recovery was hands down one of the hardest things to do. I remember relying on alcohol and very manic behavior to get me through that summer.
The end of the year brought a breakup that looking back was much needed. It brought a chance to go home for some much needed family time. I also got to meet my baby brother who I am sure is the sole reason why I am alive.
This year has brought a year full of change.
I spent most of this year chasing a toxic relationship. It tore me apart and didn't seem to affect him. I fell for someone who made me feel things that I hadn't in a long time. I ended up cycling between manic and depressive episodes. When I walked away, I didn't know if I would ever recover. I drowned trying to save myself from something that was so broken.
I spent the last six months or so just having the time of my life. I really committed to church. I got a second job. I ended up going back to school through a church sponsored program. I am stable.
This last two and a half years has taught me that recovery is not a walk in the park. Recovery is a walk in progress. For me, it is keeping myself so busy that I don't have time to fall back into bad habits. It is learning to laugh again after thinking you would never be happy again.
Here is to the last two and a half years of recovery and hopefully many many more.
2.5 years ago, probably exactly at this time I was sitting in treatment angry at everything in the world. I was a couple of months post diagnosis from my severe depression, anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and bipolar disorder and I wanted to die.
I spent all of 2017 on all sorts of medications, different therapies, and by the end of that year I would be inpatient treatment twice and living in Vermont by the time the new year came around.
I spent the following year dealing with the hardest part in my opinion.
Recovery.
July of that year, I lost my health insurance and could not afford my medications. I ended up spending fourth of July detoxing at work.
That summer, between couch hoping, moving to a different town, starting a new job, and still figuring out my recovery was hands down one of the hardest things to do. I remember relying on alcohol and very manic behavior to get me through that summer.
The end of the year brought a breakup that looking back was much needed. It brought a chance to go home for some much needed family time. I also got to meet my baby brother who I am sure is the sole reason why I am alive.
This year has brought a year full of change.
I spent most of this year chasing a toxic relationship. It tore me apart and didn't seem to affect him. I fell for someone who made me feel things that I hadn't in a long time. I ended up cycling between manic and depressive episodes. When I walked away, I didn't know if I would ever recover. I drowned trying to save myself from something that was so broken.
I spent the last six months or so just having the time of my life. I really committed to church. I got a second job. I ended up going back to school through a church sponsored program. I am stable.
This last two and a half years has taught me that recovery is not a walk in the park. Recovery is a walk in progress. For me, it is keeping myself so busy that I don't have time to fall back into bad habits. It is learning to laugh again after thinking you would never be happy again.
Here is to the last two and a half years of recovery and hopefully many many more.
Thursday, November 7, 2019
Sober Up
This blog post is actually really hard to write but needed to be said.
Ive made some life choices, I gave up alcohol.
And before I go on, I was NOT an alcoholic read the blog post. Carry on.
When I wasn't actively going to church, I did what most people did when I was 21-22 did, I drank went to parties did whatever. People assume that I did it because of the fact that I have been going back to church again because members of The Church of Latter Day Saints don't drink alcohol.
That is part of the reason but not all of it.
Due to my bipolar disorder, I get very manic which leads to a lot of impassivity or as I would like to call it lots of stupid stuff. For me, I used drinking as a cop out. And let lead to the cycles of a couple of times a month on a Friday getting drunk. It lead to not so nice Saturdays and a nice pattern that lead to SO many dumb decisions.
Mostly for the sake of my mental health AND church, I decided to give it up for good.
I feel like the whole reason of WHY I am writing this is because some "friends" of mine have taken upon themselves to "make fun" and "question" why I have stopped drinking the last however. Let me tell ya. It is extremely hard but I manage. I deal with my stress and my anxiety in its own way. Also, I can't wait to prove people wrong when they say I can't stay sober. I care about my mental health and everything else way too much to throw it away for alcohol.
I honestly have felt SO much better after really committing myself to staying sober. Not gonna lie, sometimes working at a liquor store isn't too much fun on a super stressful day BUT that is also what so much netflix is for.
Life is life and I am working on myself and getting healthy.
Saturday, October 5, 2019
If I'm Being Honest
If I'm Being Honest...
First of all I don't know who reads my blog posts or what but I am about to get real deep or at least I think.
The six to seven months have been a roller coaster. Everyone in their right minds knows how much I have been through. I honestly thought when I was slightly happy again I was over it. I was over everything and I could move on,
Just kidding.
I still find myself missing people I really shouldn't. I still post songs and quotes on my stories for certain people to see. (Oops there's the tea.) I still hope they think about me like I think about them.I still cry, not very often but once in a blue. I even got into a relationship for a little bit that I swore up and down I was ready for but it ended for a complete different reason and maybe in reality I wasn't ready for ether.
I thought I had learned everything I needed to learn from it all and I was ready. I was in a very fixed mindset. I was confident and content and didn't feel the need to learn and grow anymore. Well, the fixed mindset I was in was not healthy.
Silly me.
I still have SO much growing to do. I know myself and I know I have so much more potential. I have so much to learn in the next however long it takes to me fully content. I knew I was content but I was comfortable. I am ready to get out of my comfort zone and see what the world offers me.
I am scared to death but ready.
Here's to new adventures more than I ever know.
First of all I don't know who reads my blog posts or what but I am about to get real deep or at least I think.
The six to seven months have been a roller coaster. Everyone in their right minds knows how much I have been through. I honestly thought when I was slightly happy again I was over it. I was over everything and I could move on,
Just kidding.
I still find myself missing people I really shouldn't. I still post songs and quotes on my stories for certain people to see. (Oops there's the tea.) I still hope they think about me like I think about them.I still cry, not very often but once in a blue. I even got into a relationship for a little bit that I swore up and down I was ready for but it ended for a complete different reason and maybe in reality I wasn't ready for ether.
I thought I had learned everything I needed to learn from it all and I was ready. I was in a very fixed mindset. I was confident and content and didn't feel the need to learn and grow anymore. Well, the fixed mindset I was in was not healthy.
Silly me.
I still have SO much growing to do. I know myself and I know I have so much more potential. I have so much to learn in the next however long it takes to me fully content. I knew I was content but I was comfortable. I am ready to get out of my comfort zone and see what the world offers me.
I am scared to death but ready.
Here's to new adventures more than I ever know.
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