self

I’ve always carried around this burden of shame. My constant struggles with trying to fit in with society made me feel weak, underappreciated, and out of place. I’m plagued by emotions that become overwhelmingly unbearable and impossible to control. Walking this path of life has made me more aware of my sensitivity, my quietness, and the ways my emotional world shapes how I experience life.

Learning the Word for It

I didn’t understand what was happening at the time, but what I was experiencing was internalized ableism. I had absorbed society’s messages that being different was wrong.

Masking My Way Through Life

I spent years masking. At work, I’d smile and seemingly get through the day, but I was exhausted the whole time. In school, I’d sit quietly and daydream, drift off from reality and focus on something more interesting. My mind was running full of ideas nonstop, so I’d capture one and run with it.

But my focus on schoolwork was nearly nonexistent, and that made me anxious in case I ever got called upon by the teacher. I was always anxious in class to be honest. The bright lights, the closeness of other peers sitting next to me, the piercing glares around the room. I think that’s why I needed some sort of escape, just to try and stay calm.

In every scenario, I’d be too afraid to ask questions or ask for help because I didn’t want to appear incapable of figuring out perhaps the simplest thing. I didn’t want to come off foolish or judged in any way.

When Masking Became Second Nature

For me, masking became second nature. I remember one day at work when I was utterly overwhelmed by towering stacks of paperwork, and my boss kept calling out to me, asking questions in the middle of other urgent tasks. She did that often. She’d always ask questions right in the middle of a task that she wants you to get done on a timeline. And her voice shrieked like nails on a chalk board. Every conversation with her made me more anxious.

I’d want to ask questions or just make a general statement about how overwhelmed I felt, but I just kept my mouth shut and began typing again. All I really wanted to do was walk away or take a long break to cry and let it all out. I just kept thinking to myself, “How are other people managing this? I have to be able to handle this too.” That moment sticks with me because it revealed how deeply I internalized that needing a break was shameful.

Hiding My Whole Self

Masking wasn’t just about hiding anxiety or sensory sensitivities. It was about hiding my whole self. I convinced myself that my natural way of thinking were wrong. I believed that if I didn’t change, I wouldn’t belong.

When I couldn’t hide my difference, I overcompensated. I worked harder than anyone else, prepared more than anyone else, and pushed myself to exhausting to just appear capable. I measured myself against others all of the time, comparing my achievements, energy, and productivity to people who didn’t have the same challenges that I did.

Every time I fell short of something, I’d feel like a failure. I didn’t see that the problem wasn’t me, it was the world’s rigid expectations and my internalized belief that I had to conform to them.

Putting a Name to It

It wasn’t until I learned the term internalized ableism that things began to make sense. Internalized ableism is when you take society’s negative messages about disability, difference, or neurodivergence and turn them inward. I felt like suddenly, all of the years of self-blame, guilt, and masking clicked into place.

Moving Toward Acceptance

Learning this made me realize that I should start doing things differently because I could rest without feeling guilty or lazy. I could ask for support when I need to, and I can embrace my differences instead of hiding them.

“You were never too much. You were simply too honest for a world that prefers masks.” – Unknown

#MentalHealth #neurod #ADHD #ADHDInGirls #Anxiety #self

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I’m so depressed and I feel empty sometimes. I struggle to find the meaning of life. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I feel like a poser. I struggle to find my self identity. Some days I feel good and other days I struggle to find the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m not suicidal. I don’t want to end my life. I’m enjoying my life but I’m just scared, and I feel worthless sometimes. I sometimes wish I was someone else but at the same time I also love being me. And it’s just so complex. I want to understand the chemicals in my brain. #PTSD #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #MentalHealth #Depression #self -Worth

When it comes to depression, anxiety, and everything in between, small everyday tasks can seem nearly impossible to achieve. Some of these tasks are incredibly easy for others, but for me, it’s like climbing a mountain without a harness. No matter how hard I try to reach the top, I fail to get past that initial first step.

But I’ve learned that it’s the small actions that truly make a difference. Even when days are heavy, I can manage to push through and get things done at my own pace.

Most mornings, I lie awake in bed. I try to find the strength and encouragement to leave my comfort zone. The depression can keep you stuck under the covers, drained and exhausted before the day even begins. That’s why, I try my best to wake up earlier in the morning.

It’s a small victory for me to reclaim my time and choose to show up for myself. I feel tired and depleted of energy. However, I know that getting up early really sets the tone for the day. It’s a chance to get more mundane tasks done and sets a sense of positivism for the day.

One of the things I enjoy doing daily is take my dog out for a walk. It’s a little bit of alone time where we can both decompress. My dog and I are one in the same, anxious, and often fearful. Getting some fresh air, movement, and connection isn’t just a routine, it’s an act of self-care. It’s me choosing to step outside, soak in the sun, and take a deep breath. A moment to let the world in, even if it’s just for a moment.

Tasks such as showering or brushing my teeth can be daunting. These are necessities, but my depression and clouded mind prevent me from doing these small things with ease. It feels like a horrible chore I must get done. But when I’m doing it, I appreciate that I’m taking care of myself. The feeling afterwards makes me realize that I’m worth the effort.

I believe your room often mimics your mental state. When it comes to my room, it’s a tall tell sign that I suffer from depression. My desk is cluttered with both clean and dirty clothes. Vacuuming is becoming necessary. The dust has piled up thick. I try to remind myself that things don’t always need to be perfect.

However, the guilt of having things pile up makes me feel awful about myself. I know that a clean room equals a happier me, but getting it done is easier said. I just must remind myself that every dish washed, and every item folded is a step toward peace.

My driving anxiety is something that I’m most proud of as of late. Years ago, I had a terrifying experience while driving to Las Vegas at night. The desert was pitch black, the road lacked reflectors, and my vision blurred from the strain, fear, and tension. I experienced what I would later learn as highway hypnosis.

It’s a state of mind where I feel disconnected, overwhelmed, and panicked to be quite honest. My palms become sweaty, my heart racing, and my shoulders locked and tense. I’ve felt terrified ever since this experience.

When I drive on the freeway, I stay in the right lane. I do this in case I get an anxiety attack and need to pull over. I overthink every possible scenario while driving. This overthinking creates a dissociative state of mind. In this state, my mind and body are not connected.

I feel shaky and often must hold my driving leg to keep it sturdy. I think of possible leg cramps, foot itches, popping a tire, or at no fault of my own, getting hit. For the past two years, I’ve avoided freeways for long distance driving and just keep to the streets.

But a few days ago, I had to attend a wedding in Calabasas. My friend Zoe and I went to Santa Barabara for a few nights before. I decided to drive myself. I made this choice instead of having her do it. I wanted to push myself and just try it out. My anxiety got to me a few times, but I did it.

I drove from Santa Barbara to Calabasas without having to stop. I pushed through it. I played music, breathed deeply, and reminded myself that I was safe, and in control. I was capable and that was stronger than my fear. I’m so proud of myself for that.

It’s all about the small wins. They may not look like much from an outsider’s perspective, but on the inside, they represent growth and healing. Mental health challenges can make everyday tasks seem daunting, but it’s the small things that matter most. So, if you’ve showered, brushed your teeth, and made your bed, I’m proud of you. And you should be proud of you too.

These steps are not meant for giant leaps to reach the top of the hill. Embrace things at your own pace. Recognize that every step forward is a step in the right direction. Celebrate yourself, and you’ll notice how these small tasks will reinforce a clearer mindset. Let’s choose ourselves and embrace our productivity.

“Sometimes the smallest step in the right direction ends up being the biggest step of your life. Tiptoe if you must, but take the step.”

--Naeem Callaway

#MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #self

One Word That Describes Me: Compassionate

If I had to choose one word that truly defines me, it would be compassionate. I feel deeply for those I love, and I genuinely care about how others are feeling. I sometimes joke that I can’t stand people. However, the truth is I want everyone to be okay. I want them to thrive in their lives. My heart is constantly open to the emotions of others. I take on their joys and their struggles as if they were my own.

One of the things I am most passionate about is animal welfare. I have an enormous soft spot for animals, and nothing breaks my heart more than seeing them suffer. I honestly can’t watch movies or TV shows where an animal is harmed—even if I know it’s not real. It’s too much for me to stomach, and I firmly believe there should be warnings for such scenes. It would save me a lot of unnecessary tears.

Another area that is incredibly important to me is mental health advocacy. Breaking the stigma surrounding mental health care is something I care deeply about. My own journey with mental health has been a long one, filled with denial, confusion, and ultimately, clarity. At first, I struggled to accept my diagnosis, but over time, I found relief and understanding. Now, I want to help others see that they are not alone. Seeking help is not a sign of weakness but of strength.

I feel everything so deeply, and my empathy often makes me feel like an emotional sponge. If I see someone hurting, I hurt. If I see someone happy, I feel joy with them. While this sensitivity can sometimes be overwhelming, I know that my compassion is one of my greatest strengths. It drives me to be there for others. It encourages me to advocate for change. I strive to create a world where kindness and understanding are at the forefront.

Being compassionate isn’t always easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s who I am, and it’s what makes me, me.

What's one word that describes you?

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”

Leo Buscaglia

#MentalHealth #compassion #self #Selflove