Growing up, you do not usually learn about mental health, and I mean that makes sense, I guess — you are just a kid, and kids are still learning the easy emotions first. Whether it be anger because your little sister took the last cookie or your older brother stole your favorite toy, or sadness because you cannot stay up past your bedtime, although you know it is a school night. The disgust you have when your parents tell you to eat your broccoli at dinnertime or even the happiness you have when you and your family go out for ice cream after dinner, or you get to go to the movies because a new one is showing. These are all feelings we learn to name and control as we grow up. What no one teaches you about are the other ones — the feelings that show up later, when you are older, and do not produce apparent reasons or fixes.
I guess growing up I have always had this heavy feeling, but I never really knew what it was. I always had this slight disconnection when I spent time together with my friends or family. This feeling of displacement. That is when I noticed I started coping in these subtle ways, such as scrolling endlessly on my phone, or isolating myself in my room, or making jokes to deflect how I really felt. It really started, I believe in high school. I do not fully understand why, but I never really felt like I was fit in.
One night, I am not sure when, probably when I was around fifteen. I laid awake in my bed reminiscing on all these old memories that would come back to me and keep me awake at night. It would start with these happy memories of me playing with my siblings when I was younger or me spending time together with my friends, laughing and just enjoying my life. Then I would start to remember these moments in my life and notice the trivial things that I did not like about the interactions and would think about what I should have done differently. Which I thought was normal; I thought everybody was rethinking every interaction they had. I did not think that it was strange that I would lay awake some nights thinking about how I could have worded my sentence better or even gone about the whole situation differently.
My mind would just constantly replay it over and over, like a broken record I could not turn off.
I would always notice there was something wrong with every interaction I had. I always had to find the flaws and think about how I could fix them. Every small conversation, every joke I made or every small exchange I had, I always had to find the flaws. Did I laugh at the wrong time? Could I have answered differently? My mind would just constantly replay it over and over, like a broken record I could not turn off. Even though in hindsight it seemed perfectly normal, there was this kind of tightness in my chest, this feeling of unease that would not go away. I could not really understand why.
That is when I decided I should do some research to finally figure out what this feeling I had was or at least figure out how to stop overthinking. I spent hours scrolling through websites late at night, searching for answers and trying to understand why my thoughts never seemed to slow down. Eventually I decided to start writing everything down all these feelings and thoughts that I was having just to get them out of my head, so my mind would not be constantly racing.
At first, it felt strange and uncomfortable because, for the first time, I could see and understand what I was thinking rather than just having all these thoughts jumbled in my head. It was something foreign to me but overtime it is just something that became something comforting to me. As I continued, I started noticing small changes in myself. My mind felt calmer, and I could finally sleep at night without as many racing thoughts and overthinking. Writing gave me a sense of peace I had not felt in a long time, and it truly helped me emotionally and mentally.