The heavy side of healing nobody talks about.
When you decide to go on a self-discovery journey, everyone talks about the peace, the alignment, the glow-up. But nobody tells you about the mental labor that comes with it.
Because once you know what’s going on with you—once you can name it—you can’t unknow it.
You can’t unsee your patterns. You can’t un-feel your tension. You can’t unknow that you’re depressed.
And sometimes, that knowledge hits harder than the thing itself.
🪞 The Trapdoor of Awareness
There’s a quiet grief that comes with awareness.
You start noticing when you haven’t drawn in a week. When your energy’s off. When your favorite things don’t excite you anymore. You catch it—finally—and think, “Aha, self-awareness for the win.”
But then it sinks in.
You’re not just self-aware.
You’re self-aware and sad.
Knowing you’re in a depressive state doesn’t make it easier—it just adds a layer of responsibility.
Because now you’re the one who has to find your way out.
☁️ When the Fog Feels Familiar
Depression has this way of slipping in quietly, wrapping around you like a fog.
You don’t even notice it at first.
Then one day, you realize you haven’t showered before noon in a week. You’ve been wearing the same comfy clothes. You’ve been “resting” but not rejuvenating.
And you say it out loud: I know what this is.
It’s empowering—and exhausting.
Because awareness doesn’t erase the heaviness. It just names it.
Now the onus is on you to take counteractive measures. To do the things you know you need to do, even when you don’t feel like doing them.
Get up. Get dressed. Change your energy.
But when depression has you in a chokehold, even brushing your teeth can feel like a final exam.
💔 When You’re the Aware One in the Relationship
Here’s where it gets even trickier.
Sometimes you’re not the only one in the fog.
Maybe your partner’s depressed too—but they don’t know it yet.
So now you’re holding space for their sadness, while quietly battling your own.
That’s a special kind of mental labor—being the emotionally aware one in a shared space that’s heavy.
You’re trying to be patient and compassionate, but you barely have enough energy to extend grace to yourself.
And still, you do it.
Because you know.
✨ The Little Shifts That Save You
So, this morning I woke up and decided—something has to look different.
I threw on gold jewelry. Put on a curly wig. Did my makeup for no reason.
Not for vanity—for vibrational shift.
Sometimes, changing your appearance is like pressing “reset” on your energy.
It’s not about pretending you’re okay; it’s about reminding yourself what okay looks like.
I remembered something a YouTuber said: “Wear the nice perfume on a regular day.”
Every day is special.
Every day counts.
So, I sprayed the good perfume, took my kids to school, and whispered to myself in the car, “Today, I choose to see the bright side.”
🌒 Solitude vs. Isolation
There’s a big difference between solitude and isolation.
Solitude is sacred. Isolation is self-protection in disguise.
When I’m in solitude, I’m peaceful—painting, reading, creating, existing.
But when I’m isolating, I’m hiding.
From people. From myself. From accountability.
And that’s when the awareness stings.
Because once you know which one you’re in, you can’t lie to yourself about it anymore.
🧩 The Complexity of Knowing
Depression is depression for a reason.
It’s not something you can “snap out of.” It’s coded in the body, the mind, the hormones, the habits.
But knowing what’s happening gives you options.
It turns helplessness into complexity—and complexity can be solved.
The more I study myself, the more I realize:
I can differentiate between being hormonal, being overwhelmed, or being genuinely low.
And that awareness, though heavy, is the reason I still find my way back to light.
💡 Final Reflection: Awareness Is Hard, But It’s Holy
Ignorance really is bliss sometimes. But awareness is sacred.
It’s not always empowering. It’s not always clean or linear.
Sometimes it’s messy and inconvenient.
Sometimes it’s the reason you cry on your way to Dunkin’ Donuts.
But being able to name your lows gives you a fighting chance to rise.
And that’s what I’m learning to honor—
not the perfect version of healing,
but the present one.
Speak your mind!