Have you ever felt like you’re barely holding on? Some days—some seasons—are just hard, and no matter how much we know we need to chin up and soldier on, we often just want to let go.
Well, today’s guest candidly and vulnerably shares her personal struggles with mental health and how those struggles threatened to overwhelm her, especially during the pandemic.
GIVEAWAY ALERT: You can win the book The Power of Writing It Down by this week’s podcast guest. Keep reading to find out how!
What if you could practice a simple habit to help you curb anxiety and depression, get unstuck from patterns that hold you back, build contentment and clarity, expand your confidence, and let you experience a happier, healthier, and more balanced life?
I bet you didn’t know that I lived as a thief for many years. But I did!
“We’re overcome with deep sadness to be at this point.”
That was my friend’s response to the hard place she and her husband had found themselves.
Her beloved mother had been in and out of institutions because of mental illness and now, they had to make a hard, soul-tearing decision about her guardianship.
For years, they rallied, they loved, they emptied their savings for the best treatment centers, and they fought, trusted, and never gave up hope. And, now they felt like they were giving up her mom to an uncertain future.
What would happen if you just got still? Would the world as you know it fall apart? Would you?
Sometimes we stay busy to outrun our fear of failure or keep us distracted from thinking. Sometimes, when we are overwhelmed by sorrow or stress, we just long to fix something, clean something … you know, do something!
It happened when I was flying to Houston alone. The older I get, the less brave I feel flying alone.
I have to be on high alert, always listening and keeping completely aware of my surroundings. The airlines change gates and delay flights. And there I sit at a gate, alone and having to find a way to adapt. Girl, it is flat out draining.
I didn’t use to, but now I fight anxiety every time I fly alone. (Oh, in case you are a new reader, I am blind. That’s why flying alone is more challenging.)
When I landed in Dallas to change planes, an assistant from the airlines walked me to my gate. There I sat — eating some string cheese I had tucked in my backpack. As I waited, I sipped from my water bottle and prayed for bladder grace. (When you’re blind, you can’t just walk to the ladies room any old time you need to!)
