Not Just Me: Finding Myself Beyond Anxiety and Depression

The Friction of Stillness Anxiety and rest are often in a silent, exhausting tug-of-war. I used to believe that my inability to relax was simply a "Type A" personality trait or a high work ethic. However, I eventually realized that my brain was treating stillness as a vulnerability. For some people, the nervous system connects safety with constant movement. When you stop, your protective layers of "doing" disappear, leaving the nervous system feeling exposed. Thoughts get louder. The silence feels heavy. This space, Not Just Me , is where we explore why learning safe rest slowly retrains the brain that stillness is not danger. This post promises a path toward integration: moving from a life of constant survival to one of regulated peace. “Do you feel uneasy when you finally slow down?”  Learning to Rest: Why stillness is the ultimate act of courage. This space at  Not Just Me  is dedicated to exploring how we move beyond the isolation of these conditions. This pos...

  The Awareness Paradox: When Growth Hurts Healing feels worse sometimes, and that realization can be incredibly discouraging. I used to believe that the path to wellness was a straight line of feeling slightly better every day. However, I eventually discovered the "Awareness Paradox": the more self-aware you become, the more you actually feel the pain you used to ignore. “Ever feel worse after becoming more self-aware?” Most people don't realize that this isn't a sign of failure—it’s a sign of progress. This space, Not Just Me , is dedicated to these shared psychological hurdles. This post promises a vital perspective shift: feeling more doesn't mean you are breaking; it often means you are finally opening. The Kintsugi of Healing: Why the cracks appear before the gold. This space at  Not Just Me  is dedicated to exploring how we move beyond the isolation of these conditions. This post explores how we can bridge that gap through  integration  and  Mi...

  The Heavy Clock: When Time Becomes a Burden Depression and time perception are linked in a way that feels almost physical. I used to believe that my inability to "keep up" with the day was a lack of discipline or a failure of character. However, I eventually realized that when depression rises, the very fabric of time seems to stretch. A single afternoon can feel like a week, and a simple task like washing a dish can feel like a mountain climb. Most people don't realize that this isn't just a "mood"—it is a physiological shift. Your brain is essentially recalibrating its relationship with movement, reward, and the outside world. This space, Not Just Me , exists to dismantle the shame surrounding these experiences. This post promises a shift in perspective: you aren't moving too slow; your system is simply operating under a different set of physical laws. When Time Feels Heavy: Navigating the slow days of depression. This space at  Not Just Me  is dedi...

  The Strong One: A Role That Becomes a Cage We are taught to value being emotionally strong as if it were the ultimate shield against life’s hardships. I used to believe that my ability to "hold it all together" while everyone else fell apart was my greatest asset. However, I eventually realized that this strength was often a mask for deep isolation. “You look like you’re handling everything—but inside, you’re carrying it alone.” Most people don't realize that for those of us cast in the role of the "pillar," our strength is often a survival strategy born from a lack of support. This space, Not Just Me , is where we acknowledge that true resilience isn't about being unbreakable; it’s about being whole. This post promises a path toward integration: learning that letting go is a more profound act of strength than holding on. The Quiet Pain of Being Strong: When the armor becomes too heavy to carry. This space at  Not Just Me  is dedicated to exploring how we...

  Anxiety and Certainty: The Search for a Finish Line Anxiety and certainty share a complicated, exhaustive relationship. I used to believe that my anxiety was a personality trait—that I was simply "a worrier" by nature. However, I eventually realized that my anxiety was actually a relentless search for a guarantee. Most people don't realize that the brain doesn't just want things to go well; it wants to know they will go well before they even happen. I struggled with this "need to know" for years, replaying conversations and rehearsing future disasters until I was mentally depleted. This space, Not Just Me , exists to explore these shared psychological stories. This post promises a shift in your perspective: true healing doesn't come from finding the answers, but from regulating your system so you no longer need them. Anxiety and Certainty: Learning to trust the path you cannot see. This space at  Not Just Me  is dedicated to exploring how we move bey...

Depression Numbness: Why You Feel Like a Stranger to Yourself Depression Numbness is the heavy, silent wall that stands between who you are and how you feel. I used to believe that depression was strictly about sadness or crying fits that wouldn't end. However, I eventually realized that the most terrifying part isn't the presence of pain, but the absence of everything else. Most people don't realize that your brain isn't "broken" when you feel flat; it is actually trying to protect you. I struggled with this void for years, feeling like a ghost in my own life. This space, Not Just Me , exists because I found a way back through the fog. This post promises to give you one clear outcome: a strategy for integration through nervous system regulation and somatic awareness. Read   "  Is Your Anxiety Actually Unprocessed Grief? The Hidden Link "  This space at  Not Just Me  is dedicated to exploring how we move beyond the isolation of these conditions. Thi...