mentalhealthmatters

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

How Do You Say "Lost" in Every Language?

I speak four languages fluently. Spanish, Guarani, Portuguese, and English. In college, I took a semester of French and wandered through Paris, piecing together phrases from my lessons, testing the limits of my tongue. But fluency is a fickle thing—it’s not just about words, but about being understood. And if that’s the case, have I ever truly been fluent in anything?

I was born in Paraguay, a country where Guarani became an official language in 1992. By then, I was already 8 years old, but my journey with Guarani had started long before. Long before it was accepted. Long before it was allowed.

My mother forbade me from speaking it. She wanted my Spanish to be perfect, untarnished. Guarani, to her, was a limitation. To me, it was a door. One that led to friendship, to belonging, to a world just beyond my reach.

So, I learned it in secret. A tiny act of rebellion, a desperate grasp at connection. I don’t even remember how I found a Guarani dictionary, but I did. And I poured over it, memorizing the words like they were spells, hoping they would conjure a place for me among my peers.

But language does not guarantee belonging.

I learned Guarani because I wanted friends.

And I still had none.

I was the weird one—too much, too intense, too hyperactive, too… wrong. I wouldn’t understand why until decades later, when at 29, I was diagnosed with ADHD. And now, at 41, I am certain that I sit somewhere on the autism spectrum too. But back then, I had no labels. Just rejection.

So, I turned inward. If no one would speak to me, I would listen.

That’s how I learned Portuguese—not in conversation, not in friendship, but in isolation. My bedroom became my sanctuary, my television my companion. I grew up on the border of Brazil, where six different Brazilian channels played for free, their voices filling the silence where friendships should have been.

I absorbed Portuguese like a sponge, the way I had with Guarani. But this time, not out of rebellion, not out of hope, but out of loneliness.

Guarani was the language I learned because I longed for friendship.

Portuguese was the language I learned because I had none.

At 16, I left Paraguay. The United States swallowed me whole, and suddenly, English wasn’t a choice—it was a lifeline. I learned it the way one learns to swim after being thrown into the ocean: desperately, without grace, without a moment to think.

And yet, no matter how many languages I carried in my mouth, I still found myself misunderstood.

Fluency is not the same as connection.

I could translate words, conjugate verbs, construct perfect sentences. But the rhythm of human interaction, the invisible rules of friendship, the art of simply belonging—those things never came easily to me.

Instead, I became hyper-focused on romantic relationships, believing that love could fill the spaces friendship never did. But even there, I faltered. I was present, but never fully invested. I loved, but never stayed. No relationship lasted beyond two years. The pattern repeated itself in jobs, homes, entire cities. I was always moving. Searching.

And then, there’s the greatest irony of all—I speak multiple languages, yet I struggle to communicate.

Not because I lack the words. I have too many words. But I never learned the ones that matter most—the ones that make people stay, the ones that make them understand me, the ones that turn conversation into connection.

How do you say “lost” in every language?

Because that’s the word I know best.

#MyStoryMatters #sharingmytruth #breakingthesilence #unspokenwords #writingtoheal #neurodivergentvoices #adhdawareness #AutismAcceptance #invisiblestruggles #mentalhealthmatters #EndTheStigma #lostintranslation #languageandloneliness #youarenotalone #healingthroughwords #Findingmyvoice #fromsilencetostrength #writingthroughpain #multilingualmisfit #fluentbutmisunderstood #thepowerofwords

Good morning and welcome to another cold frigid day in the country. In the basement knitting and watching videos, the dog is with me #mentalhealthmatters #knitting #solitarywitch#AutisticArtist .

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

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

Hey everyone!

As we navigate life's challenges, it's easy to get caught up in following rules, norms, or expectations. But today, I want to remind you of a powerful truth:

Do what is necessary, not just because it's written.

Don't let external expectations dictate your path. Instead, listen to your inner voice, your values, and your needs.

Ask yourself:

- What truly aligns with my goals and well-being?
- What steps will move me closer to my desired outcomes?
- What choices will bring me peace, growth, and fulfillment?

Remember, your journey is unique. Don't be bound by limitations or constraints that don't serve you.

Take ownership of your decisions and actions. Empower yourself to:

Break free from unnecessary obligations
Challenge societal norms
Create your own rules

You are capable of achieving greatness. Trust yourself and make choices that nourish your mind, body, and soul.

Share with us:

- What's one thing you're doing today because it's necessary for your growth?
- How are you breaking free from external expectations?

Let's rise above limitations and conquer our minds together!

#conqueryourmind
#Empowerment
#selftrust
#mentalhealthmatters
#PersonalGrowth

As we journey through life, we encounter people from all walks of life, each carrying their own burdens and scars. But how often do we truly open our hearts to their suffering?

In a world where empathy is often in short supply, it's easy to get caught up in our own struggles and forget that others are fighting their own battles. But what if we made a conscious effort to change that?

"Open Your Heart To Their Suffering" is more than just a phrase - it's a call to action. It's a reminder that we have the power to make a difference in someone's life simply by being present and compassionate.

So, let's make a commitment to ourselves and to others to:

Listen without judgment
Offer kindness without expectation
And to see the humanity in everyone we meet

By opening our hearts to others' suffering, we can create a ripple effect of empathy and understanding that can change the world.

*Reflection Questions:*

- Who in my life is struggling, and how can I open my heart to their suffering?
- What are some ways I can practice empathy and compassion in my daily life?
- How can I create a safe space for others to share their struggles and feel heard?

*Take Action:*

- Reach out to someone you know who's struggling and offer a listening ear
- Volunteer your time to help those in need
- Practice mindfulness and self-compassion to increase your own emotional capacity for empathy

Let's conquer our minds and open our hearts to the suffering of others. Together, we can create a more compassionate and empathetic world.

#empathyinaction
#openyourheart
#compassioninaction #mentalhealthmatters
#conqueryourmind
#KindnessMatters #listenwithoutjudgment
#bepresent
#empathyiskey
#compassioniscontagious
#makeadifference
#spreadloveandkindness