Do you ever get in a funk and not know how to get out?

I think there are different kinds of funks. Sad ones, angry ones, lonely ones.

If I ever disappear from this blog and my virtual passion projects, it means I have entered an unbearable funk and am having difficulty fighting through it.

I am currently trying to come out of an insecurity funk. I’ve come to realize I enter an insecurity funk every time I return to work from school because I think everyone looks better than me. It just hit me a lot harder this time than it normally does.

I stopped working out because I thought it wasn’t making me skinny fast enough (how stupid and shallow of me, I know). Turns out, not working out, the one thing that helped clear my mind (even though I drown in sweat), made my mind worse.

I stopped writing because I didn’t feel like myself. As a believer in “be you, be true,” I don’t feel either when I am constantly telling myself I’m trash. I couldn’t even muster up the confidence and mental strength to do the one thing I know that makes me feel better— writing.

Receiving unwarranted comments at work, from both the customers and my coworkers, did not help at all. Actually, it made everything ten times worse, and I have finally reached a point of ignoring their words.

During my insecurity funk, I over analyzed and over thought about every bad thing about myself, and if it weren’t for me being sick half the time (not COVID), I would’ve definitely had several emotional breakdowns.

I talk too much. I think too much. I feel too much. The list goes on. I just am “too much,” and for a minute, I thought that was why most of my friendships were disintegrating and began to feel unloved and unwanted.

It took listening to an album, listening to an episode of my podcast, and having a driveway conversation in the dark with a close friend and her dad to make me feel better. Those occurrences started my journey out of the “too much” insecurity funk, and I’ve reached the point of everything I find to be “too much” is just enough. They make up my being, and I shouldn’t have to alter who I am to shut out the insecurities caused by comments and comparisons.

Who I am, how I look, what I do, everything I say is okay.

I feel like who I am and who I’m becoming is enough. I’m excited about life again, and more than anything, I’m grateful I’ve built up the strength and persistence to conquer another mental hurdle.