With Elli

Today, I had one of those moments—a small slip-up that spiraled into something bigger. I was selling an item online and accidentally overpriced it. A potential buyer pointed it out, and the mistake hit me harder than I expected. Not because of the error itself, but because of the flood of shame and panic that followed. I noticed how quickly I moved to apologize. How deeply unsettled I felt. How hard it was to just let it go. And then it clicked: Somewhere along the way, I learned that mistakes aren’t just mistakes—they’re threats . A voice from the past echoed in my mind: “When you make mistakes, we lose money.” That belief took root. It taught me that being wrong isn’t just uncomfortable—it’s risky. That I have to be perfect to be safe, to be trusted, to be enough. Suddenly, so many things started to make sense: Why I freeze before sending emails Why job searching feels paralyzing Why I second-guess myself, even in the smallest, lowest-stakes situations ✨ A Truth...

  My Story with Mild Chronic Depression — and What Helped For a long time, I didn’t have a name for what I was feeling. It wasn’t dramatic. I didn’t fall apart in public or scream into pillows at night. It was quieter than that. A kind of dullness. A fog I couldn’t quite shake. Days that felt heavy without reason. Mornings where motivation felt out of reach. Smiling when needed, functioning well enough—but always with a subtle undercurrent of sadness that never fully left. Eventually, I learned this has a name: mild chronic depression , also known as dysthymia . And with that name came a quiet relief—because if it has a name, maybe it also has a path out. 🧠 What It Felt Like Chronic depression doesn’t always look like people expect. For me, it looked like: Functioning “just enough,” but constantly feeling tired Overthinking everything, especially emotionally charged situations Struggling to make decisions, even small ones Feeling emotionally disconnected—like wa...

For a long time, I struggled with certain tasks—especially the ones tied to deadlines or external expectations. It wasn’t always the tasks themselves that were difficult; in fact, some of them I even enjoy when the pressure is off. But the moment they’re expected of me—on a schedule, with a sense of urgency or judgment attached—they feel heavy. Simple things like booking a doctor’s appointment , calling customer support , or preparing a spreadsheet with client contacts suddenly become overwhelming. Tasks like reaching out to clients to schedule a meeting , or being told, “We need you at that time to book the entrance tickets” —they all start to feel like a test I can’t afford to fail. It’s not about laziness or lack of skill. It’s the weight of the context , the invisible pressure to perform, to do it right, to not let anyone down. That’s what turns an ordinary task into something I dread.Whenever I had to deliver something, it felt like I was being judged, and that made it incredib...

 For most of my life, I knew sadness. I knew fear. I knew worry, guilt, and the heavy silence of overwhelm. But anger? Anger was something that felt far away from me, something dangerous or loud that belonged to other people. I didn’t realize that my anger had simply gone underground. That it had turned into tension in my shoulders, fear of confrontation, constant overthinking, and moments of crying without knowing exactly why. I grew up learning that being "nice" meant being calm, pleasing, and non-confrontational. I was a sensitive child, often picking up on others' feelings before my own. If someone was upset, I thought it must be my fault. If I was upset, I hid it to keep the peace. Slowly, my nervous system became trained to associate any flicker of anger with danger, rejection, or shame. It took me a long time to recognize my suppressed anger. I needed to experience a panic attack and a complete shutdown of my body to finally see it. I remember it vividly. I was sit...