A Better Friend to Myself
During the dog days of summer with COVID starting to affect friends in and near our community, I found myself questioning everything—the pandemic, politicians, COVID deniers, the value of my four-year degree, and my current situation. I was a couple months into being thirty years old and what did I have to show for it…debt, no job, uncertainty about the future and an insurmountable feeling of failing at life.
I didn’t know what to do. I knew I had been born into more privilege than most and here I was pitying myself. I was embarrassed by the sight of myself in the mirror. I finally voiced these concerns to my girlfriend. She lovingly asked, “What would you tell a friend who was in the same place as you? You certainly wouldn’t be as hard on them as you’re being on yourself.” I needed to be a better friend to myself. I walked outside to [contemplate/consider/sit with] this thought.
What would I say to a friend? “I know you. I believe in you. This virus doesn’t have to define your year.” Statements like these and questions started percolating in my mind. “There’s no shame in asking for help. What things do you find fulfilling? When’s the last time you set goals?” This thinking led to a checklist. I reached out to my healthcare provider and asked to talk with someone. With the help of a therapist I made more conscious self-care decisions. More hikes and walks. A search for career training to better myself AND enrolling in them. Making a conscious effort to reach out to loved ones and friends more regularly.
All of these changes led to a better me. Being forced to isolate because of the pandemic led to discovering the life altering effects of reaching out for help. I take better care of myself, I found a position that I love to wake up to and do, and I’m more at peace than I have been in a long time. Help is there for the asking and you owe it to yourself and loved ones to reach out and accept it.
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