Mental health––often left unchecked, is over scrutinized.
This, because our perception has suddenly changed.
Or at least, that had always been the case for me. When old habits are not handled with consistency, a fixed routine becomes a daily event that instead injects me with a foreign sensation, a loss of purpose. Simply––I had forgotten to peer up at the landscapes. It felt as if I had pressured myself too much in the region of work and less on self-sensation, self-pleasure, and essentially a short break was all that’s needed to re-evaluate a life that’s starting to feel futile and soulless.
In the year of academic validation, in walking through curtains of epiphanies, in experiencing a momentary curve of isolation, I expected such: a year of lost experiences, time, and social opportunities. However, while that may be the case, I for one had found that being in the trappings of oneself had provided me with much more company. I speak from an ambivert perception who once gravitated towards an extroverted demeanor. Staying home and experiencing its nesting functions for the first time had elicited creative challenges to have ‘fun’ within the home’s proximity without any external help. Hence, it was what led me to pick up a book, an instrument, and to fulfill that inner spark of guilty pleasures I once ached to express to the outside world due to the insecurity of judgments. The truth is, I was walking down my own path for once, discovering my own trails and evaluating through every tree, flower, and mushrooms I had encountered in my journey. It was pleasurable. Frankly, I was much more open to finding comfort in uncomfortableness for the first time in my life. It became one of those moments where I enjoyed everything I once found so unpleasant, to the extent where I would wake up crying because I felt so much joy. And with every response to how I was doing, even on gloomy days, I would confidently reply: ‘I’ve never been happier.’