In the mix of social expectations, self-set standards, basic human decency and pursuing a better life for ourselves, we get caught up. Not just trying to be something we're not, but we tend to fixate on things that are out of our control. For some of us it's our mental illness, or our gender, or our relationships with our family members. There are friends we turn to for advice, expecting them to say something brilliant only to be disappointed with their quick "everything will be okay."

I'm guilty of this; I would like to credit myself with giving better advice, but I am blinded by the light I imagine is at the end of the tunnel. "Just wait, your time is coming, everything will turn out alright if you just work toward better times." I have said this sincerely, because it's been true for me; that when I am faced with a difficult situation, I work through it, tough it out, and I am blindly optimistic because I cannot face reality.

Am I alone?

I've looked down on people who can't get their mind away from bad thoughts and feelings. I've disregarded others who won't even try to think positively because it's easier for them to complain.
Well I get it. I'm all too familiar with what it's like to feel so overwhelmed by feelings of despair.
Sometimes life sucks. You don't want to hear "it'll be okay" because that's not how you feel. You're not sure when you'll snap out of your "funk" or bad mood. Truth is that pain, confusion and sadness is felt everywhere in the body. Not just mentally, not just emotionally, but physically, pain wears you out. I've been so good at hiding mine.

I recently realized that I've been trying so hard (and succeeding at) becoming what I want to be, that I forgot the person I was and what has lead me to who I am. I've naturally always been a helping person, but I wasn't always fun-loving, optimistic, charismatic or aware. After you suffer internally for long enough, you become okay with the idea of being alone or being forgotten about. You don't ask anyone to do anything for you because you don't want to feel rejected.

When you've experienced life events that change you, you cope, you heal, and you scar. Nothing is easy, but you make yourself participate. I want to admit that from whatever trauma I've endured, I'm lucky. I'm lucky I have the attitude I do; I don't know how I got here, but I know I didn't give up on myself. I knew that what I went through wasn't going to be my fate. My story doesn't end at "victim." I cringe even mentioning myself and "victim" in the same sentence because that's not how I label myself. And I think the term "survivor" is really obnoxious. I'm Christie and some bad things happened to me, but I'm okay now.

I remember not feeling anything. No emotions. I was always indifferent. I regret high school because I probably came across as if I was full of myself. I probably came across as bitchy. Whatever, I was. But that's not the person I am. And that's not the person I wanted to be, but sometimes we don't choose how we react to what has happened to us. Nonetheless, I realized my indifference consumed me, in my actions and my words. I had little energy or excitement. I noticed I had been acting different toward my best friend, and she was the only person I enjoyed being around. I needed her, but I didn't know what I needed from her. I needed her joy and her lovely spirit. Again, I had no idea how badly I needed her. But she was always there, even when I was my worst.

Literally one day, I remember I didn't want to feel indifferent. I didn't want to feel nothing. I remember thinking, "what is this? Why am I like this? I'm too young to feel like this. I want to feel everything, good and bad; that's what life is about."

It was then, I accepted life as the metaphor, "like a roller coaster."

My dad has always told me that I'm wise beyond my years, and while I agree with him, I think my wisdom is the result of unwelcome experiences at a young age. I've been able to read people and read their pain, discomfort, indifference, and there's sometimes I wish I couldn't. I experience secondhand pain, physical, heart aching pain. Much like some people feel secondhand embarrassment, but I think this is much more intense. It drives me to help people, it drives me to help strangers. It's why I'm so passionate about Sport Exercise Psychology, it's why I'm so happy about my day-to-day, and why I am truly grateful for what I have, and even for what I don't have.

Sometimes a simpler life is best.

Has anyone ever told you to be true to yourself? Sometimes you can't be, because who you are is far too miserable and dark for anyone to understand.

This is my dramatic piece of raw feelings that I never let surface. But I sympathize with everyone who thinks twice about the phrase "be true to yourself." You are not as great as everyone expects you to be. That's okay, you know. You don't have to be great. You just have to be what makes you comfortable. You shouldn't lie to yourself, you shouldn't hurt yourself, but you should be honest with your feelings. You should cry. You should be mad. But you shouldn't stay that way.

My motivational self encourages every hurting person to hurt so much they get sick of it. I think that's how it worked for me. It's been over seven years since I've escaped my horrible mind, and bits and pieces of my suffering always return. But I'm okay because I chose to embrace a better version of myself. So if me being "true to myself" is me being a self-manipulating optimist, I'm really okay with that.