Never too much, Always enough

As I sit here listening to the melodious rain, looking through my window and watching the rhythmic drops, I can’t help but think about the idea of always enough and never too much, and how in our times of dysregulation we can feel flooded.  Much like the rain, that California desperately needs for our infinite drought (suggesting that we don’t have enough), our structural systems say otherwise with statewide flooding (suggesting that we are getting too much). The torrential downpour has overwhelmed our cities over the last few weeks and caused a lot of issues, because we are being flooded. Our nervous systems work in a similar fashion. When we are in stressful, emotional and/or traumatic situations, or we have prolonged repeated exposure to negative or distressing stimulus, we can become flooded. Suddenly we begin to question ourselves. Are we enough? Are we good enough, strong enough, worthy enough? Can we be enough, do enough, accomplish enough? We might even feel like we are too much for certain people. Perhaps our internal dialogue is asking, am I too much? Am I too needy, do I require too much, am I asking too much? While we are each responsible for our self-regulation, we do need to look at some important factors when we notice that we are asking ourselves these questions:

1.   Are we exposing ourselves to toxic people and relationships? If so, are we doing this because we feel we must? You might feel like you can save the person (love them enough, be enough, do enough). You might feel like you can’t leave because you worry about them and their well-being and feel like you must stay in the relationship.

2.   Are we in a dysfunctional cycle? Is our body seeking a dysfunctional homeostasis because it’s our “normal?”

3.   Are we dependent on the feelings we get from the highs and lows? Is our body dependent on stress responses?

4.   Are we in distorted thinking patterns, like, all or nothing. Either I have this relationship (all) or I will be alone (nothing). We rationalize the all by saying it isn’t always bad, and we romanticize the good, even when the good is bare minimum.

5.   We grew up with these narratives. If we function best in an earning mentality, and we are constantly striving to please people, we might have learned that if we do enough, we are enough. But if we aren’t needed, then we are discarded, which validates our fear of not being enough or being too much maintenance in a relationship.

There are of course more things to consider and explore as we wrestle with this distortion. That being said, it is so important to remind yourself that in a healthy, loving, reciprocal relationship you will never be too much for someone. They will hold space for you, encourage you to seek and be your best self, and remind you of your worth. They will pursue the relationship as well and choose you. They will expect you to be accountable for your actions and behavior, just as they hold themselves accountable for theirs. Likewise, you will always be enough. You will not need to earn, do, or be anything but your authentic self. They will have a desire to connect in ways that are meaningful to you, because they see you do the same. They will remind you of your inherent worth and value and encourage you to see yourself for the amazing person you truly are. This is not to say that we ever have an “arrival point.” In a healthy, growth-oriented relationship, both people are self-aware, have good boundaries, and a desire to grow as individuals and with one another. If someone is behaving in a way that is not congruent to who they are, the other person will make an effort to have a loving and gentle conversation and encourage further insight and awareness. When we do this with good intent, it keeps the emotional dysregulation and flooding to a minimum and allows for healthy, problem-solving conversations and effective communication.

Many of us grew up with this fear. That we are too much work for someone, or not worth enough. We carry this deep within our hearts and struggle to let go, because it is also how we (often) see ourselves. When the checklist is complete, it feels good for a short while, and then, inevitably, there is always another checklist to feel whole. We do not have to live this way though. We can get to a place where we recognize our worth is inherent and our value is not determined on what we can do or do not do. In fact, our existence proves that we were chosen. We have a purpose, and there is a plan for our lives. Song of Songs 4:7 says, “You are altogether beautiful my darling, there is no flaw in you.” And Jeremiah 29:11 reminds us, “these are the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper, and not harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.” In Psalm 139 God reminds us that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, woven together with intention. One of the greatest lies of all time is the “enough” lie. The serpent whispered it to Eve in the beginning, and we still struggle with it now. “If God loved you enough, He wouldn’t withhold a good thing from you. He just doesn’t want you to be like Him.” And so he whispers in our ears, “it’s because you aren’t enough.” Or “it’s because you are too much.” But it was a lie then, and it’s a lie now, and once we recognize it, it has no power over us unless we give it power, we can step into our value and remind ourselves of truth. Whether you are a believer or not, if you have breath in your lungs, there is purpose for your life, and that isn’t to struggle with lies like these. It isn’t to live in a perpetually flooded or dysregulated state. On the contrary, God (that is my belief, but perhaps you believe in energy or the universe, or karma…) wants you to live life and live it in abundance. He wants you to know that you are worthy, amazing, and deeply loved for who you are and who you have yet to become.

When you sense this thought creeping in your mind, close your eyes and imagine yourself in the pouring rain. Washing you clean. Feel the water permeating your soul and open your eyes to watch the negative thoughts flow away from you with the water. You do not have to believe this distortion; it was never yours to begin with. Your thoughts become your beliefs, and it is important to be mindful of what you tell yourself regularly because you are paying attention. Remind yourself of your truth, your reasons, your beliefs. Remind yourself that regardless of what others may have said, or what you may have wrestled with in the past, you don’t have to bring it into the present.  Remind yourself, you are never too much and always enough.  

My Story of Pain and Purpose

I am complex.

We all are. We are all so much more than what others see. We are more than what others believe us to be. We are more than unmet expectations, boxes that have been constructed for us to fit into, and the disappointments others express in us.

We are also so much more than the good days. The perfect Instagram worthy posts. The pinterest projects and endless to-do lists that finally got done. We are more than sunshine and rainbows and the smiles plastered to our faces.

We are more than the fake and phony. We are more than the pretending and “I’m fine.” We are more than our illness and wellness. We are complex.

When I set out on this journey to share my story, I really did not think of the extent of what my story was. You see, I had been taught (somewhere along the way), that my story and my voice did not matter. It was not as important as someone else’s. The pain not as great as another’s. The trauma not as significant and therefore devalued; it means nothing if someone has it worse. But I want to change that narrative. I believe fully and wholly that transparency and vulnerability create meaningful connection. When we realize that we are not alone in our journeys, that people genuinely care and understand, we are able to move forward with hope.

I hope that in my sharing, you will find your light. You will believe that wellness is possible. Healing is possible. You are worth investing in and that people do genuinely care.

I was just a little girl, 4 years old when my Opi (German grandpa) passed away. I can still remember playing happy birthday for him on my portable keyboard. He was in his bed a lot at this time, but that didn’t matter, I loved him, and he loved me, and I just enjoyed his company. One day my parents sent me to stay with my cousin. I recall vividly them hurrying me into the car to get back to my house. I plead for them to tell me what was going on, but no one would. When we got back everyone was crying, and my Opi was gone. No one would tell me what was going on, but his bed was empty. That was when I first drew the conclusion that when I leave bad things happen. This thought process planted its faulty seed into my mind and sprouted years of agony and trying to be there for everyone and everything. But bad stuff inevitably happens. Shortly thereafter my parents decided to move to the United States. I was 6. I left behind my friends, family, pets, home, and belongings. I got on a plane and moved to California, we lived with my “American” grandparents. I did not speak or understand English, I was put into an ESL class (where everyone, including the teacher spoke Spanish), I had no friends, and I was the weird foreign kid. An immigrant. Throughout school I endured pretty severe bullying, from kids and teachers alike. I was locked into dark bathrooms, death threats were issued to me and my family if I ever told anyone, I was called a Nazi often. So, I became a chameleon. I learned how to fit and adapt. How to be liked and how to keep others happy. Once I had “friends” the bullying did not matter as much anymore. Some kids thought it was cool that I spoke a different language and that I was “different.” What I really wanted them to believe is that I was the same.

At home things were not much better. My parents worked a lot, they had to, and I respect how far they have come and the lives they have made for themselves. I endured a lot of verbal abuse from a relative. I was told I did not matter. That I would never have friends. I was too ugly. I was not worth life. I was told, as a young girl, that no one would ever want me. This person would purposely make fun of me when my friends were around, call me degrading names, tell me I should run away or die. What was meant to break me, only made me stronger. I realized this person was afraid of me. Afraid of my courage and strength, of my intelligence and resiliency. This person wanted to bring me down because they were unhappy; they projected themselves onto me. I watched as they continued to try to berate and belittle me, and I chose not to break. I chose not to let them see me cry. To say it didn’t hurt would be a lie, but when you are exposed to pain repeatedly, eventually you go numb. The numbness worked to my advantage though, it allowed me to live my life as the positive person that I knew I was. I have always loved people; loved helping and being there for others. No one was going to change that about me. I grew up around substance use and abuse as well, I learned that a lot of people self-medicate at an early age. I was a latch-key kid and always tried my hardest to help my parents in any way I could.

When I was younger, I didn’t know that I had anxiety. I would feel sick every day (somatic symptoms) and go to the nurse. I had trouble sleeping even when I was little and would experience night terrors and nightmares basically every night. I learned how to stay up all night reading with a flashlight because it was better than the night terrors. My intrusive thoughts sometimes got the best of me and they manifested in OCD tendencies and perfectionism. I pushed myself hard and was always in competition with someone (self-imposed) to keep myself at my best. I worried about literally everything. I worried about worry.

At the age of 11 another life-altering event happened. My Omi (German grandma) was visiting and staying with us. My brother was 2 at the time and napping in his room and I was helping my Omi with laundry while watching a show. She said she wasn’t feeling well, but didn’t want my mom to worry, said she would be fine. My mom left and went to work. My Omi went in her room to put away her clothes. When the show ended, I realized she still wasn’t back, and I went to check on her. That’s when I found her. She was on her floor in her bedroom. I panicked. I called my other grandma hysterically; I ran to my neighbors who called 911. But it was already too late. The fire department and ambulance seemed to take forever to get there, they wouldn’t let me go inside. My neighbor waited with me outside of my house. That day changed a lot for me. I lost a lot. And I realized that I would never be enough. When my Opi died, I drew the conclusion that bad things happened when I wasn’t there, so I was always there for people. But my Omi still died. I didn’t pay enough attention, I wasn’t fast enough, I didn’t respond well. The inner critic was right, that relative was right. I would never be good enough.

That didn’t stop me from trying harder though. I was in all honors classes. I took 7 periods most of my high school years. I was involved in extra-curricular activities and volunteered. If anyone needed anything, I was there. I was a people-pleaser. Very good givers attract the best takers, and I was okay with that. At least they thought I had something to give.  

High school was also the time I developed my truly unhealthy relationship with food. Growing up I was placed on a lot of diets. I think it was common then for moms to always be dieting because I remember all my friend’s moms always being on some sort of new diet-fad as well. But I decided that I could just not eat. So, I didn’t. For a long time. I lived on water and gum. Everyone thought I looked great; they complimented how disciplined I was (although they had no idea, I was not eating at all). I started to not feel my best, I was tired and light-headed a lot, I would get dizzy spells and just drink more water. My mom was doing my hair for a baby shower when I passed out and smashed head-first into the bathroom mirror. Thankfully, I wasn’t hurt. My parents had no idea what was going on. My dad got really upset and learning to eat again wasn’t easy. Yet again, I wasn’t enough. What I learned through this though was that, while I can’t control others and what happens, I can control what and how much I eat. I needed control of something, so this became my thing.

After high school I worked full-time, went to school full-time and tutored on the side. I always kept myself extremely busy; when I am busy, I don’t have time to think. I had learned how to “manage” my anxiety (which I still didn’t know I had) by distracting myself. Sure, there were days I wish that everything would just go away, or that life would end, but distraction was a good tool to keep my mind occupied.

Around this time someone very close to me tried to commit suicide as well. To say this was a shock is an understatement. Looking back, I see how alone this person felt and how the idea of not needing to be “in it all” anymore was appealing. I am so glad God had different plans though!

  In my early 20’s I met my husband and we had our son. We were relatively young parents and we didn’t have a lot, but we tried our best to do our best. My husband and I had to learn (over the years) how to break habits we didn’t even know we had. We had to learn how to communicate effectively and not recreate our families of origin. We struggled a lot, for quite some time. But we never gave up. When my son was 4, he and I were driving home and were hit by an intoxicated driver that was high and drunk. We had minimal physical wounds (praise God) but we both suffered extremely mentally and emotionally. My son ended up with a PTSD diagnosis, and this was what spiraled my anxiety. The accident allowed me to go back to school though and obtain my masters, and during that program I had my first public panic attack. It took therapy, medication, and a medical diagnosis to finally find reprieve. I had to battle a lot of negative thoughts, core beliefs and faulty thinking; I had to replace my distortions with healthy coping mechanisms and begin to see that not everything is my job. Therapy pushed me, a lot. Therapy taught me, a lot. Therapy helped save me.

I still struggle sometimes; I think we always will to some extent. This world is fallen and broken, and we desire perfection in an imperfect place. But now I have the tools to help me. I learned how to set healthy boundaries and let go of toxic people and relationships, or to minimize my exposure to ones I can’t end. I learned how to shift my focus and keep my eyes on Jesus; how to have grace, not only with others, but with myself. I learned how to advocate for myself and my needs, whether medically or relationally. I know now that when others project onto me, I do not have to accept it, and I can still pray for them and love them. I learned that my anxiety and panic lives with me. My body is its house and sometimes I forget it lives there, but other times I still struggle with sharing space. I learned that wellness is complex too, but it is SO worth investing in and fighting for. I learned that I can’t be enough, but I don’t have to be enough. I give myself permission to be fully me, and I will always do my best to love big and be there for others because that is who I am to my core, but I will no longer be a people-pleaser or welcome mat. I learned that we all have beliefs and ideas, we all have opinions and its okay to be different (even when others don’t want you to be). I learned that this world is perfectly imperfect and that I can lean into that because, so am I. I will never fit into someone else’s box, I will never be someone else’s ideal, I will never be anything but who I am. I can learn. I can grow. I can become a better version of myself, but I will never be perfect, and I have learned to be okay with that. Progress is greater than perfection.

This is a very condensed version of my story. There are specific details I left out and diagnoses that are not mine to share. I have walked through a lot in my life, and yet I know others have walked through more. The things I chose to leave out I did because I do not want to hurt others in sharing my story. I know we all have a version that is true to us. This is my story. It includes pain and illness, but more than that it includes hope and wellness. I may not have always known what I was up against, but if my story shows you anything, I hope it shows you how strong we are. How we learn to cope and adapt. How we can still unlearn negative behaviors and learn positive ones. I hope that my story shows you that we are all connected to each other. Pain and suffering are not discriminatory, they will choose anyone, at any time. But when I reflect back on all of this what I see most prevalent, is the purpose to my pain. My pain catapulted me into my purpose. It showed me that regardless of what we face in life we have choices. It showed me my own strength and ability to rise. It showed me that love always wins and that I have a heart that desires to make a difference.

My story matters.

YOUR story matters.

One day, when you are ready, you can tell your story too. I hope in doing so you can reflect on your story and see your strength and determination. Your heart and soul. That you can see you were worth investing in and fighting for all along. Our stories matter. Our voices matter. Your life matters, and you are never alone.

A Letter From A Therapist...

This is a time like no other. We are all facing uncharted territory and trying to stay afloat amidst a chaotic sea of doubt, fear, worry, panic and isolation. We are told to refrain from connection (person-to-person contact), which is so life-giving to so many. We can no longer walk trails or beaches, which provides an outlet for nature lovers and reprieve from the constant day-to-day stressors. We are not allowed to gather with family, friends, our churches. Many have lost their jobs. Kids are not allowed to go to school. There are shortages everywhere. The medical community continues to cry out for us to stay home, and many of them feel as though they are sinking.

We have never seen this before. We have never known this particular struggle. Many of us were completely blindsided; not because others knew this was coming, but because most of us never thought something like this would. As I sit here and write this, I am still trying to reconcile all that is going on.

Virus— Pandemic— No Cure— Shortages— Isolation— Loss— Grief

As a therapist I can tell you that no two days are alike for me either. That’s what grief does to you. Some days you have reached acceptance, and others you face denial or bargaining; others still, you are angry or depressed. Some days I can go about, and it almost appears as though nothing is out of sorts, nothing from the outside world can penetrate the bubble of safety I have created in my home. Other days I grieve deeply. For the loss of human life, the loss of financial security, the loss of physical/emotional safety, the loss of consistent meals for so many, families being separated, the loss of large events like graduations and weddings, the loss of plans, the loss of aspirations and dreams, the loss of freedoms we so often took for granted. I grieve for these losses so deeply and my heart aches as I pray for a cure; I pray for total healing and restoration. As I navigate through this with my clients, I can’t help but feel that things are different right now. Many of my sessions, like most others I assume, are about what we are experiencing. There is a loss for words, and silence has become more normal in sessions. But even in that silence I hold hope.

You see, the only thing bigger than fear is faith. And I have faith that we will pull through this. Not unscathed. Not unchanged. Not without exponential loss. Not without grief.

But we will pull through.

I am not only holding hope for my clients anymore, I am also holding it for myself, my family, my friends, my faith community, other clinicians… I feel like I often hold hope for everyone and anyone that needs me to. But I want you to know something, I am hurting too. I see you. I see the deep grievances you face, and it hurts me. I see the uncertainty as we meet through video sessions, and it pains me. I see the fear in your words through our correspondences and I worry for you.

I worry that I was not trained for this. I was not trained to walk you through a pandemic. I was not trained to know what to say, what to do, what to give you in this moment. And if I said I was, I would be lying. This is new to me too. Every day I am learning. Every day I am relying on my intuition and my knowledge to help me piece things together. Every day I remember why you might be feeling this way, why emotions might be magnified. And I ache for you. My heart breaks that you are facing triggers you haven’t in a long time. My heart breaks that anxiety is heightened and depression is magnified. My heart breaks that you have to face yet another tragedy, that you are walking through more trauma.

Please know, my heart breaks for you.

But I want to turn this around now, I want you to see all the things that I am seeing too. I want you to know my heart in this, because if we can’t be vulnerable now, I don’t know when we ever will be.

·         While I was not trained for this, I am here for you.

·         We are experiencing this trauma together, so like I always tell you, everyone’s trauma threshold and response is different. You can lean on me.

·         I will always hold hope for you.

·         You will once again find hope for yourself.

·         This will not last forever.

·         We will get through this.

·         I know you feel stuck, and that your emotions are heightened right now, but you do have amazing new coping skills that you can utilize.

·         Feelings are not facts, and you know how to remind yourself of truths.

·         Your progress is not derailed.

·         Regression is a normal state of progress. Read that again.

 When we face uncertainties, we can often become disoriented; feeling as though we are not truly certain of anything but our fear. But fear is a liar. We are not held captive by fear unless we allow it to hold us captive. We can choose to see things differently. It is not always an easy choice to make, but you do have the power to do it.

I want to remind you (or equip you) of some coping skills you can use. I think its great for all of us to have these in our toolboxes.

Deep Breathing:

Find a quiet place, sit comfortably, close your eyes. Take a deep breath in through your nose for 5, hold for 6, and exhale through your mouth for 7. Repeat 3xs.

Grounding:

5 things you can see

4 things you can touch

3 things you can hear

2 things you can smell

1 thing you can taste

Mindfulness:

I want you to find a safe and comfortable space and either sit or lay down (it can either be in a quiet room or with your favorite music playing softly in the background). I want you to visualize a place of complete serenity. I want you to picture all the different colors you see, the landscape or place you are in, what does it look like? What can you touch? What can you hear? Is anyone with you or are you alone? What can you smell? What can you taste? I want you to visualize yourself in this space. I want you to feel yourself completely free of worries, fears and doubts. I want you to take some deep breaths and tell yourself you are safe. You can stay in this place for however long you would like. When you are ready you can open your eyes.

Follow up activity: find a picture or create a picture that reminds you of this place and hang it somewhere you will see it often and be reminded that you can utilize mindfulness to reset and feel safe again.

Other effective coping skills:

·         Healthy sleep and eating

·         Journaling

·         Being creative

·         Connecting (phone/video/email/text) with people you love

·         Exercise (wear a mask outdoors or find fun stuff to do inside, dance parties are awesome!)

·         Read a good book/listen to music/watch your favorite movie/tv show

·         Practice self-care (a warm shower/bath, spa day at home, a cup of coffee with the fireplace on…this can be anything that is healthy for you and makes you feel good).

Above all what I hope this message conveyed to you, is that you are not alone. We are all in this together, and that there will always be people who care and want to hold hope for you. I would be lying if I said this was easy, and I wanted to share my heart today and let you know I am worried too. But what I also know is that worry is like a rocking chair, we go back and forth but we never get anywhere. Its okay to sit in the chair sometimes, because sometimes we just need to acknowledge our worries. But worrying can not add anything to your life, it just takes all the good things away. I needed you to know that I have been spending time in this chair too, and that it is normal. I do not want you to judge yourself right now (or ever really). I want you to acknowledge your feelings. To be present. To be mindful. I want you to practice your coping skills and self-care. I want you to reach out. But more than anything, I want you to be well. I want you to be safe. I want you to be thriving.

There is so much pain and heartache right now, but there is also so much hope and healing taking place. I see it all around me too. I see people connecting in ways they haven’t before, faith becoming stronger, communities pulling together while distanced. I see people doing the hard thing and staying home, staying away from those they love BECAUSE they love them. I see all the “essential” workers and that they continue to show up and be present for us all. While we might be distanced physically, I am not sure we have ever been closer emotionally.

To whomever needs to hear this right now, I want you to know you are loved, valued, treasured and cherished. Your life matters. You have a purpose greater than you know, and there are people who deeply care about you and your well-being.

Its okay to be tired. Its okay not to have a schedule. Its okay to eat ice cream for dinner (maybe not all the time 😉). Its okay to do nothing. Its okay to stay busy. Its okay to talk on the phone. Its okay to ignore a phone call. Right now, in this moment, I want you to give yourself permission to do a self-check-in and to write down everything you have been holding inside. Then drop your shoulders, breathe deeply and release the tension.

Remember this, it is always one day at a time, but sometimes we have to take it moment by moment too.

This is new. This is scary. But I see you. I hear you. I feel you. And we are in this together.

Lovingly,

Melani Samples

What COVID-19 has given us: opportunity amidst the chaos, and tangible ways to deal with negative emotions.

Here we are… trying to reconcile something most of us probably never considered as a “worst case scenario” possibility.

As I try to grasp what COVID-19 is doing, not only on an individual basis, but nationally and globally, the most difficult part for me has been to see the destruction it is causing through panic and fear. I ache for those who have the diagnosis, for those who have lost their lives due to this outbreak. My heart hurts for our entire world. Being an empath in these times can truly drain you of life in a way nothing else ever could.

I am watching as the world is turned upside down. As people hoard and take on individualistic mindsets. But you know what else I see, faith overcoming fear. I see communities pulling together and meeting the needs of those who are without. I see neighbors helping neighbors. I see people posting about something extra they may have, willing to share because its the right thing to do. I see opportunity too. I see the ability to focus on the things most of us (including myself) have taken for granted. The ease at which we have things available to us, how reliant we have become on instant gratification (need something, order it on amazon and it can be here in 2 hours), the ability to drop our children off at school and know they are cared for and receiving a good education (thank you could never be enough to our incredible teachers and staff), how used to our daily freedoms we are, how much we rely on our medical system… these are just to name a few.

Over the course of the last two weeks we have seen such a drastic change in our every day living. But maybe the silver lining in all of this chaos is the things we do get to focus on, the opportunities we have:

• Jesus said: Love your neighbor (Mark 12:31).

This has created the perfect opportunity to help those in need. To check on people, put ourselves aside and focus on helping in ways that we can. Loving them as Jesus would.

• Jesus said: to care for those who cannot care for themselves (Proverbs 31:8-9, Proverbs 3: 27-28).

We have a unique opportunity to be advocates for the least of us at this time. To find ways to give back to our communities and come together, united, even through this separation.

• Jesus said: Rely on Him for everything. (Philippians 4:19, Matthew 6:26-34)

I know this is difficult to see tangibly with people out of work, schools closed, and everything being on hold, but I believe firmly that God wants us to rely fully on Him for ALL of our needs. And that He will place people in our lives that can help make up deficits if we trust in Him.

Seeing this all unfold has truly been surreal. But it has created opportunities to make the most of life. Once again showing us that everything here is temporal. It has allowed us to spend time with our kids, connect as families, make meals at home (we are making grilled cheese tonight, nothing fancy here), take an active part in their educations, reach out for help (because we all need it), focus on our communities and connect in creative ways, helping others, and turning our eyes to Jesus, our Savior and Redeemer. I believe that He doesn’t orchestrate the bad, but He uses everything for His good. While I have witnessed some bad through this, I have seen so much good. People reflecting His light and love, and that brings peace.

If you are struggling today, here are some ways you can help ease your anxiety/worry/fear.

1. Practice deep breathing: in for 5, hold for 6, out for 7. Repeat at least 3xs or up to 60 seconds.

2. Exercise: do yoga, go on a walk (maintain social distancing), have a dance party, do a relay race in your house… just be active.

3. Get creative: listen to some music and sing along (singing reduces stress and releases all those wonderful feel good hormones! no one is judging you ;) ), draw or paint, journal or write, read a good book, play an instrument, make something.

4. Practice Mindfulness and Grounding: In your room (if its familiar) close your eyes and list the following: 5 things you know you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell and 1 thing you can taste.

5. Share kindness and love: doing something good for someone else reduces stress

6. Practice good sleep hygiene: maintain a normal schedule, create a relaxing bedtime ritual and make sure you are getting enough sleep.

7. Eat mindfully: even if it is grilled cheese and canned veggies, you can still make it fun and be fully present for the meal.

8. Feel your feelings: acknowledge how you are feeling, but don’t allow your feelings to control you. Feel them and release them like the waves of the ocean.

9. Connect: whether through facetime, text, email, social media, or whatever outlet you prefer, connect with people you love and share in how you are feeling. If you need to talk to a professional, a lot of therapists (including myself) are offering telehealth during this time for reduced rates.

10. Find the good: laugh, focus on the things that are good, and remind yourself that this too shall pass.

The most important thing to remember is that you are not alone. Even if we are socially isolated at this time, we are all in it together. People care, and they want to be there in whatever ways they can be. You don’t have to face it all alone. This is a scary time, and it is okay to be scared. It is normal to feel a variety of emotions at this time, but dont lose sight of all the good. Remind yourself of any recent progress you have made. Focus on plans you have for the future. Make a bucket list. Have phone conversations with friends. Play with your kids. Do some spring cleaning. Most of all, remember that you are deeply loved, valued and treasured. You matter, and your life is important. This too shall pass.