Five years ago, I shared a Facebook post reflecting on my struggle to reclaim my former identity after experiencing Depression and Anxiety six and a half years earlier. After years of trying to return to who I once was, I was beginning to recognize that recovery might require accepting the person I was becoming rather than chasing a past self I might never fully regain.
Through my therapist’s questions about learning, communication, and emotional expression, I began exploring my strengths at that point in my life. Acceptance remained a work in progress, but I committed to discovering which strengths I had retained, what new ones I might develop, and how I could bring a better self forward. I knew the journey would be emotionally and physically demanding, but I was finally willing to undertake it.
Five years later, I can confidently report that my mental health is much better than it was then—and considerably better than it was 11½ years ago.
Mental health exists on a continuum, and I want to begin by acknowledging that I still struggle with many of the things I describe below. The difference is that they affect me much less than they once did.
I am less anxious. I beat myself up far less. Although I still replay negative thoughts more than is healthy, I have made real progress in this area, too. I am more adventurous, less anxious when facing uncertainty, and sometimes able to enter new situations without expectations—which can be a good thing.
That said, I still struggle to stay in the present. I still long for some of the mental strengths I had more than a decade ago. I sometimes miss that I had to give up parts of my former life and identity, including things that might have helped me retain some of those strengths had I not been struggling as intensely as I was.
The Sunday Scaries still rear their ugly heads far too often—sometimes even on a Tuesday (ha!ha!). Certain situations can overwhelm me and send me spiraling into an anxiety pit. And, yes, I still miss the person I once was.
But thanks to therapy, medication, and a lot of hard work on my part, these struggles occur less frequently and have less control over my life.
Better mental health is possible in many cases. For me, at least for now, it has happened.
In the second half of this post, I want to share two questions I ask myself today that weren’t part of my arsenal five years ago—and certainly weren’t 11½ years ago—along with a statement I have found indispensable.
First: “Does this serve me?” If something doesn’t serve me or help me accomplish what matters, it may not be worth the emotional energy it demands. Sometimes, it may even overwhelm me. Recognizing this has helped me let go of things, expectations, and situations more often. Not everything deserves my time, attention, or energy.
Second: “Who do I want to be today?” I know there’s a debate about whether trying to “bring your best self forward” sets an unrealistic expectation. That’s not what I mean by this question. I’m not asking myself to be the best at everything or to meet some impossible standard.
Instead, I’m asking what kind of person I want to be in the circumstances I face today. Maybe I want to pay more attention to Rebecca. Maybe I want to be a better social justice advocate. Maybe I want to be a better gardener.
The point is that I have some agency in how I approach my day. This question helps me be more proactive, intentional, and appropriately in control of what I can influence.
Finally: “If it costs you peace, it’s too expensive.” I don’t remember where I first heard this, but I love the perspective it offers.
As a social justice advocate, I put myself in some pretty stressful situations. There’s no getting around that, and I don’t necessarily want to. Sometimes, doing what matters requires discomfort, conflict, and a willingness to challenge the status quo.
For me, the question is twofold. First, will I be at peace with myself for how I act in a particular situation? Second, am I allowing personal expectations, other people’s opinions, or less important tasks to take more from me than they’re worth?
Some things will inevitably cost me peace. But I can choose which costs are worth paying and which aren’t.
Life isn’t all puppies and rainbows when it comes to my mental health. I still have difficult days and hyper-anxious moments. I haven’t reached some permanent state of acceptance, nor have I left every struggle behind.
But I am healthier than I once was. For now, that is enough.
Peace.
Michael
