Today is #BellLetsTalk Day so I figure this is a good time to be vulnerable with my writing. As we openly table difficult conversations, I wonder, what’s mental health anyways?
Getting old is hard enough but the uncertainty cast from my most intrusive thoughts makes it sometimes unbearable. Is that mental health?
My disposition to the nature of things gets skewed every so often. So while there is a balance to how the world turns, my scale teeters towards the dark side of things and it’s hard to get out of there. Spiraling into a twisted dance with my own reflection, my inner dialogue constantly questions if I will ever be good enough.
For what? I couldn’t tell you, but seeking validation and proving myself worthy drags me down. I’m constantly facing my own imposter syndrome. Why am I like this? Does that classify as mental health?
Let’s talk about it. This year, I seek to delve into my own diffidence, so as to recognize those parts of myself that I struggle with. I’m not the best, nor am I great, but I try. Getting comfortable with who I am is all that matters.
Writing helps to face my uncertainty, putting words that I cannot eloquently speak into something that I can share with others. So that perhaps, a dialogue can be initiated and we can talk about it. Words matter so much. So let’s talk.
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