Not Just Me: Finding Myself Beyond Anxiety and Depression

 I finally realized that slowing down is my only way forward when my body began to reject the frantic pace of my daily expectations. For years, I operated under the grueling assumption that if I simply moved faster, I could outrun the heavy shadows of depression and the vibrating hum of anxiety. I believed that "better" was a destination I could reach if I just pushed through the exhaustion, but my nervous system had a different plan. Every time I tried to accelerate, my chest tightened, my breath grew shallow, and my mind spiraled into a familiar state of hyper-vigilance. I thought I needed to move faster to be productive, but my body was actually asking for profound gentleness in every movement. Rushing felt unsafe because it mirrored the very trauma cycles I was trying to escape, whereas slowing down felt like the first real permission I had ever given myself to simply exist. Accepting that slowing down is my only way forward required me to dismantle the toxic belief tha...

  Shaming myself for being lazy became a heavy, daily ritual that defined my experience with chronic anxiety and depression for over a decade. I used to stare at my "to-do" list with a sense of profound failure, wondering why I couldn't simply force my body to move. I believed that my lack of productivity was a character flaw, a sign that I was fundamentally unmotivated or weak. However, I eventually realized that my brain was not quitting on me; it was stuck in a physiological "Freeze" state. My body wasn't being lazy; it was over-protecting me from a perceived threat that I couldn't yet identify. Consequently, the moment I stopped leading with guilt and started focusing on safety, the paralysis began to lift. Furthermore, at The Soojz Project , we understand that this specific type of isolation thrives on self-judgment. When you are shaming myself for being lazy , you are inadvertently telling your nervous system that you are under attack—this time by...

  Self-esteem is not confidence , and discovering this truth was the pivotal moment I finally began to breathe through the suffocating weight of my chronic anxiety. For the longest time, I believed that if I couldn't perform—if I couldn't walk into a room with my head held high or complete my daily tasks with ease—then I was fundamentally broken and worthless. I was measuring my internal value by my external output, a dangerous mistake that many of us in the mental health community make without even realizing it. Confidence is often defined as the belief in one’s ability to succeed in specific situations, but self-esteem is the deep-rooted conviction that we are worthy of love and respect regardless of our failures or successes. When we are navigating the dark corridors of depression, our confidence is usually the first thing to vanish. We lose trust in our brains and our bodies, feeling like we are failing at the basic "job" of being a person. However, I’ve learned t...

 I used to set massive, unattainable goals in an attempt to "fix" my life overnight, but I eventually learned that self-esteem grows when you keep small promises to yourself rather than grand ones. When you are navigating the heavy fog of anxiety or depression, the idea of "loving yourself" can feel like a mountain too high to climb. At The Soojz Project , we believe that integration isn't found in a single giant leap, but in the quiet, consistent act of showing up for your own basic needs. Every time you tell yourself you will drink a glass of water, step outside for five minutes, or rest when you feel tired—and you actually do it—you are performing a radical act of self-repair. These micro-actions are the secret language of the nervous system. When we are stuck in a cycle of self-betrayal, our brain begins to view our own word as unreliable. This internal disconnect is a primary driver of the isolation we feel in our psychological stories. By shifting our foc...

 For the longest time, I felt like a guest in my own life, constantly apologizing for the floor space I occupied, but I’ve learned that low self-esteem often makes you over-explain every single move you make. If I was five minutes late, I provided a detailed itinerary of the traffic; if I declined an invitation, I drafted a three-paragraph justification for my fatigue. It was as if I believed that my needs were only valid if they were backed by a mountain of evidence. At The Soojz Project , we understand that this urge to justify isn't just a personality quirk; it is a survival mechanism born from a nervous system that feels perpetually unsafe. When we exist in a state of high anxiety or depression, we often feel the need to "earn" our right to be here by being as convenient and transparent as possible for everyone else. Breaking this cycle requires more than just "confidence"—it requires a fundamental rewiring of how we perceive our value. Through my own journ...

  Introduction  Low self-esteem makes every decision feel wrong inside , even when the choice itself is simple. I’ve lived this pattern quietly for years—standing in front of small decisions that somehow felt heavy, risky, and overwhelming. What to say. What to choose. Whether to trust my instinct or wait for reassurance. Each option carried the same question underneath: What if I’m wrong? When anxiety and depression are part of your inner landscape, decision-making rarely feels neutral. Instead, your nervous system interprets choice as threat. Your body tightens. Your mind overanalyzes. You delay, avoid, or ask others to decide for you—not because you lack intelligence, but because self-trust feels unsafe. Low self-esteem doesn’t announce itself loudly. It shows up subtly. You replay conversations. You second-guess emails. You fear regret before anything even happens. Over time, this creates emotional paralysis. You stop trusting your internal signals and start outsourcing...