I didn’t know what else to. I purchased every inspirational memoir that my favorite used books website had in stock. I learned to play my favorite songs on my latest impulse purchase, the ukulele. I hit some new deadlift PRs for the first time in what felt like forever. I even increased the number of subpar headstands I attempted each day during my yoga sessions. That’s the standard, cliché, self-care starter kit, right? The only thing I was missing to improve my mental health was face masks *insert humongous eye-roll here*.

More seriously, my doctor and I made adjustments to some of my medications, which typically only happens once every few years. I was (of course) still going to therapy; because over a decade later, I cannot imagine my life without it. I tried journaling for the nth time (and really, truly tried this time). I took initiative in reaching out to friends and family to combat isolation. I utilized all the tools in my metaphorical toolbox. So why did I still feel so awful?

Spring turned to summer, then to fall, and I still hadn’t found that thing to get me back on track with my long-standing mental health journey. Nobody around me had any effective suggestions, either. Then one morning, I suddenly found myself buying my domain name. And when I discovered the way that creating a blog made me feel, I wished I had done it sooner. Each day I had off from work, I shot up out of bed and quickly grabbed my laptop to continue editing.

(Note: Anybody who knows me knows that I never shoot out of bed in the morning.)

Tackling this new hobby never previously crossed my mind, nor was the idea ever proposed to me. I suppose starting a blog isn’t a coping mechanism listed in The CBT Handbook. I also don’t think most mental health professionals were ever educated on how to support clients through a global pandemic. What I’m saying is… I decided to forgive my therapist for the clinical oversight.

So here I am, writing the first post for this new blog of mine; that thing I’m hoping will get me going in the right direction again. But what created this roadblock on my road to recovery to begin with? I’m not sure if I’ll ever know that answer. Though it probably goes without saying, this was not the first roadblock on this road that I have encountered. And it definitely won’t be the last. However, it was the first time that struggling with continuing to heal felt unjustified.

God graced me with the opportunity to have been working at my dream job since I graduated college. I had wanted to be a pediatric ICU nurse ever since I was a senior in high school. Later, I even temporarily stepped into the role of adult ICU nurse when the Covid-19 crisis began. I’ve been helping more people in a wider variety of ways than I ever expected to. So why did I feel like I wasn’t doing enough as a human being?

For as long as I can remember, I have always used my free time for good. Every extracurricular I was ever a part of felt like it gave me purpose. Each task I tackled had meaning. I was the girl delivering food, clothing, and hygiene supplies to people experiencing homelessness in NYC on the same nights my closest friends were sending me videos at parties. Saturday mornings were for mentoring high school students, not sleeping in, and Tuesday evenings were for giving presentations on immigration and refugeeism. (And This is Us. Tuesday evenings are also for This is Us.)

There’s a part of me that wonders if I always dedicated so much time to serving others because it’s the only thing I felt good at. And if I can be so transparent with you, as I’m writing this, I don’t know if I should have put that sentence in past tense. I’m not sure I can say that I do, in fact, feel like I’m good at anything else.

There was never a time in my life when I wasn’t taking advantage of opportunities to help others…until the pandemic happened. Opportunities like the ones I was involved in are incompatible with a world of quarantining and social distancing. Thus, most of them ceased to exist. And despite being blessed with what most consider a “fulfilling” career (and don’t get me wrong, it is unbelievably fulfilling), it felt insufficient.

Subsequently, I felt useless. I didn’t know who I was without serving others in additional ways. For the first time in a long time, my spare time wasn’t being spent in ways that benefitted the people around me. It took me months to consider that this lack of ministration was the culprit of my deteriorating mental health.

Like I mentioned before, as I’m writing this, I’m having a hard time determining whether to write it in past or present tense. I don’t know if I still feel useless. When I imagine the people that this blog could help, I feel worth something again. But why is that the contingency? I can’t pinpoint a moment when I realized I deserve to serve myself, as well. When did I finally ask myself why my only purpose is to help others? Why is the worth I see for myself quantifiable solely by the number of people I did something for?

In many ways, this blog will provide me with the ability to continue to serve others, albeit differently than I once did before. My purpose behind sharing the experiences of others is in hopes of inspiring many people. I want each person who visits this blog to find one story that resonates with them. I pray they stumble upon whatever it is they need to hear. And the best part is that I will be serving myself concurrently. I can invest my time into something that feels purposeful again. With a small amount of luck and a considerable amount of effort, this is what is going to get my mental health journey back on track.

I wanted this introductory post to serve as the foundation for what this blog is all about. Already I have a pretty lengthy list of some stellar human beings who offered to share their experiences with me. Some even claimed that doing so has been revitalizing for them. They were brave enough to share their story loudly, and I’m hoping that once you are done reading this that you will feel moved to do the same.

Remember: Moving forward is hard and life is tough…but you are tougher.

With love and virtual hugs,

Danielle

To contribute, please email anothersunrisestories@gmail.com with a brief summary of your story. I will respond back as soon as possible to plan a time for us to speak. I want to hear what it has been like for you to have another sunrise.

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