mental health awareness

There’s a kind of sadness that wraps itself around you like a velvet fog—soft, lingering, impossible to shake. I’d been moving through that fog quietly, unsure of whether I was feeling too much or not enough.

Then I heard Selena Gomez’s revival of “El Muchacho de los Ojos Tristes.” I’d never heard the original, but this song carried something eerily familiar. It didn’t just play—it echoed. It held me. It stirred something quiet and buried, a sorrow I didn’t realize was still awake inside me.

I’ve felt this before—through music that presses its hand to your chest like it’s trying to resuscitate something. This one did exactly that. It brought up unlived emotions—sentimientos compartidos—grief I didn’t know was mine but somehow felt like it belonged to me. The kind of sorrow that doesn’t ask permission—it just rises.

Since I started listening to it, melancholia has settled over me. Not just sadness—but something deeper. That slow ache that lives in your chest like a ghost of something you never had but still mourn.

I spoke to a friend about it. She said I was experiencing depression. I told her it felt like something else—something heavier, more haunting. I called it melancholia. She brushed it off, said it was all the same. But I disagreed.

Depression is absence. Numbness.

Melancholia is presence. Longing.

It’s grief laced with beauty. Pain that almost feels sacred. It’s nostalgia for a moment in time that doesn’t exist. A hunger for something you can’t name, only feel.

This song didn’t fix me. But it did something else.

It reminded me—I still have a pulse.

I’m still here. Still aching. Still hoping for something. A glance. A connection. A sign that I haven’t disappeared under the surface of my own silence.

I said this to someone:

“I feel like I am the girl with the sad eyes. Diving deeper and deeper into a melancholic state, wanting so badly to find a spark. I want my heart to be shocked back to life.”

And they told me:

“You’re not lost. You’re becoming.”

So this is me—becoming.

Still tender. Still searching. But no longer asleep.

There’s a spark out there. I don’t know what it looks like yet. But I know I want to feel it.

I used to not understand my cousin when she’d listen to sad songs while feeling low. I thought it was like pouring water on a drowning heart. But now I understand. Sometimes the saddest songs are the only ones that know how to hold us.

So if you're reading this and you feel it too, know this: You are not alone. There is no shame in aching. No weakness in longing. Feeling deeply means your heart is still beating.

Let it ache if it must. Let it rise. And when you're ready, follow the faintest flicker of hope. Even if it's just a breath. Even if it's just a song.

You're not lost.

You're becoming.

And somewhere ahead of you—maybe just beyond this fog—there’s a spark.

And this time, it’s for you.

💓💓💓

If this resonated with you, like, share and comment. We weren’t meant to feel this alone.

#melancholia #MentalHealthAwareness #Stillhere #emotionalhealing #youarenotalone #healingthroughfeeling #theacheandthehope #griefandgrowth #musicheals #SelenaGomez #elmuchachodelosojostristes #musicandmentalhealth #becomingnotbroken #quietstrength #louderthansadness #letitrise #melancholia #Stillhere #MentalHealth #mentalhealthmatters #Grief #elmuchachodelosojostristes

Receiving my official diagnosis of recurrent major depression and anxiety hit harder than I expected. At first, reading the doctor’s note for my leave of absence felt surreal, like it was about someone else, not me. It was only days later, when I read it carefully, that I fully realized that person was me. Coming to terms with having a mental health disability was painful. I had to mourn the diagnosis and the idea of who I thought I was. It’s still hard to accept, but acknowledging it feels like the first real step toward healing. ##MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #Diagnosis #healingjourney #selfawareness #MentalHealthAwareness #youarenotalone

So I can really try and make sure you know that I have been diagnosed with so many different things that all have no cure and I have been under the knife at least 15 plus times total and with each diagnosis things seemingly just get worse and harder to find in my body. For me it's just a day in and day out struggle and as for the rest of the world around me I am literally just a pain in their behinds. I've been denied 7 times since the age of 23 for disability and I am now 43 applying for disability again with an attorney. With everything from a rare lung disorder that has caused a total of 11 intubations into a coma because it causes complete lung failure in both of my lungs at the same time to endometriosis and different auto immune diseases to simple conditions as well. Then on top of all those things even including a broken back in 3 spots after a fall, I have multiple mental health issues as well. At the younger ages I was diagnosed with panic attacks, depression and anxiety disorders. I now have ptsd due to all the hospitalizations, bipolar disorder 2 meaning I mostly suffer from depression or depressive moods at least it was that way for almost 30 years to date. As of around the age of 41 that is always how it went. I prayed and asked for God to take the depression away and he did thank heavens. But I don't want my worst enemy to suffer from any of the other problems so it's been hard to say a genuine prayer for those so I am suffering terribly from pain issues and anxiety along side of one more mental health issue not just generalized anxiety but social anxiety on top of that I haven't had this much anxiety and or pain ever in my life. And I can't understand why nobody is doing anything for me as far as doctors are concerned and I am still waiting for disability to be approved. I just need to know what really is the reason why I have so many issues I know that there is something that these doctors aren't telling me about what I need to know and what the disability offices need to know. I will keep pushing and pleading for what I need to know and for what I deserve which is a genuine breakthrough #MentalHealthAwareness #mentalhealthmatters #properdiagnosis #physicalpain #disabilitydoctors #disabilityawareness #iminrealpain

"Vulnerability isn't where we break; it's where we begin to heal, connect, and truly live."

For years, I equated vulnerability with weakness. It was the crack in the armor, the soft spot predators could exploit. My life was a relentless performance of strength—smiling through pain, excelling at work while battling inner chaos, and keeping my struggles locked away where no one could see them. I thought this was the only way to survive. But the truth? The armor wasn’t protecting me; it was suffocating me.

Vulnerability, as it turns out, isn’t the enemy. It’s the superpower I never knew I had.

The Weight of the Mask

I lived most of my life wearing masks—each one carefully constructed to fit the expectations of those around me. At work, I was the confident professional. At home, I was the dependable partner and father. In social circles, I was the one who had it all together.

But behind those masks, I was unraveling. Anxiety whispered lies into my ear: Don’t let them see the cracks. Depression held me captive, convincing me I was too broken to be loved. And the effort to maintain the facade drained what little energy I had left.

Eventually, the mask began to crack. I couldn’t keep up the charade, and the fear of being “found out” became unbearable.

My First Act of Vulnerability

The moment that changed everything wasn’t dramatic. There was no grand confession or tearful breakdown in front of an audience. It was a quiet conversation with my wife, Kristin.

One night, as we sat on the couch, she asked me the simplest question: “How are you, really?” I wanted to brush it off, to say, “I’m fine,” like I always did. But something about the way she asked—gentle, patient, and genuinely curious—made the words stick in my throat.

So instead of dodging the question, I told the truth. “I’m not okay.”

Her response wasn’t pity or judgment. It was understanding. In that moment, I realized that vulnerability wasn’t the end of the world—it was the beginning of connection.

The Strength in Vulnerability

Society often glorifies resilience, grit, and stoicism as markers of strength. And while those qualities have their place, they’re not the whole story. True strength, I’ve learned, is being brave enough to say, “I’m struggling.” It’s allowing others to see the parts of you that aren’t polished or perfect.

Vulnerability isn’t about oversharing or seeking attention. It’s about authenticity. It’s about standing in your truth, no matter how uncomfortable it feels, and trusting that the right people will accept you for who you are.

The Ripple Effect

Opening up didn’t just change my relationship with Kristin—it changed my relationship with the world. As I began sharing my struggles more openly, I noticed something remarkable: people leaned in.

Friends who had always seemed to have it all together began sharing their own struggles. Strangers messaged me after reading my posts, thanking me for putting into words what they had been too afraid to say. Vulnerability became a bridge, connecting me to others in ways I never thought possible.

But the most profound change was internal. For the first time in my life, I felt free. Free from the need to perform. Free from the fear of being “found out.” Free to just be me.

Why Vulnerability Matters

We live in a world that values perfection, yet perfection is an illusion. Everyone is carrying something—grief, anxiety, shame, fear. By choosing vulnerability, we give others permission to do the same.

When I share my story, I’m not just releasing my own burdens. I’m creating a space where others feel safe to release theirs. That’s the power of vulnerability.

A Message to You

If you’re reading this and wondering whether it’s safe to let your guard down, here’s what I’ll say: Start small. Share with someone you trust. Test the waters. You might be surprised at how people respond—not with rejection, but with compassion.

Vulnerability isn’t a weakness. It’s a superpower. It’s the thing that turns pain into connection, fear into courage, and isolation into community.

And you? You have that superpower, too.

Reflection

“Vulnerability isn’t the crack in the armor—it’s the light that shines through, illuminating who we truly are.”

“True strength isn’t about never falling. It’s about having the courage to rise again, and the vulnerability to ask for a hand when you need it.”

Corey Welch

Author | Mental Health Advocate | Champion of Vulnerability

"True strength begins where vulnerability opens the door."

##vulnerabilityisstrength , #MentalHealthAwareness , #overcominganxiety , #connectionthroughtruth

From Low to Rise

In the depths, I felt so small,
Drowning in darkness, ready to fall.
But a spark ignited deep inside,
A whisper of hope, my heart’s guide.

With each small step, I found my way,
Rising from shadows into the day.
Though scars remain, I stand tall and free,
A journey of strength, reclaiming me.
In the depths, I felt so small,
Drowning in darkness, ready to fall.
But a spark ignited deep inside,
A whisper of hope, my heart’s guide.

With each small step, I found my way,
Rising from shadows into the day.
Though scars remain, I stand tall and free,
A journey of strength, reclaiming me.

#MentalHealthAwareness #PoetryCommunity #healingjourney #TraumaRecovery #Inspiration #resilience #emotionalhealing #Selflove #RecoveryIsPossible #youarenotalone #mentalhealthmatters

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Reach out to the men In your life to make sure they are okay. #MentalHealth #MentalHealthAwareness #Stigma

#strongerthanyouthink #keepgoing #NeverGiveUp #strength #MentalHealth #mindset #Motivation #Inspiration #Selflove #selfcare #YouGotThis #believeinyourself #dontgiveup #MentalHealthAwareness #Positivity