says “everything’s fine” when they’re actually suffering for fear that they will burden the other person coupled with the fact that they cope better alone?
or that one friend that tells a joke in the most inopportune times because they have a hard time interpreting social cues?
ohhh, what about that one that is the living embodiment of a run-on sentence?
Yep, you guessed it, I’m that person.
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Hardheaded Disclaimer: I probably won’t admit to any of that in person. If you call me out on it I will probably deny it, over analyze what you said, and/or sulk about it later. Sorry in advance.
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Anyway…
Hello, my name is D’Anna Pleasant and if you haven’t already noticed, humor is my coping mechanism second only to writing. Verbal expression is not one of my strong suits, so I have always found comfort in the written word. Writing, to me, is more deliberate, reversible and overall, easier to communicate with.
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Writer or Nerd?? Probably Both.
I knew I had an interest in writing, but I didn’t consider it a passion, yet. I figured that something was up because school essays were monumental to me. You would find me awaiting grades, feedback, printing my papers out, framing them, the whole nine. I befriended every one of my English teachers. It dawned on me that it wasn’t because I was nerdy, or a school pet, but maybe, just maybe, I was genuinely passionate about writing.
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Hesitant& Doubtful
I kept this thought in the back of my mind when I began college but I never considered myself as an “official writer” (whatever the hell that means). How could I measure up to the classic writers that I revered?? This standard was my main deterrent and only limited my potential in the end, as comparison usually does.
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“Comparison is the thief of the joy.”
-Theodore Roosevelt
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Dark Tunnel
During the first few years of college I felt fatigued, depressed, and out of touch with myself. I didn’t sleep well, I isolated myself, and felt unmotivated to do anything much less take care of myself. It was hard for me to admit that I was depressed because of the stigma that surrounded that word.
Depression.
The only thing I knew with certainty was that I didn’t enjoy my own company.
I hated it. I hated myself. I picked myself apart. I felt isolated by my insecurities, exhausted by my emptiness, and just lost overall. I was unfamiliar with who I was. How could I love what I didn’t know?
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The Light
That’s when I realized that I needed to take better care of my mind and body. I had to make a conscious effort to learn about myself. I started doing more self-introspection, feeding healthier habits, seeing a counselor and finding new ways to develop as a person. It wasn’t easy. Admitting your downfalls and forgiving yourself is hard. Opening up to a stranger about your trauma and depression is torturous at first. I had to remind myself that it takes time to heal.
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“Keep taking time for yourself until you’re you again.”
-Lalah Delia
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February 13th, 2016
The day I started taking writing, poetry, and myself more seriously.
This was the day that I bought my first of many journals.
Once I overcame these fears and self-sabotage, I was able to tap into that power and passion that I was denying myself of.
Writing.
As corny as it sounds, this simple activity has impacted my life in many ways. I’m glad that I started doing it more routinely. It has improved my self-concept, ability to process my emotions, re-framed my anxious thoughts, and helped me to develop as a person.
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Self-Shapers Unite!
I’ve coined a term for this personal development. I call it “self-shaping.” I think that this is a more appropriate term because people become more of themselves when they build more self-awareness, they mold into more of an authentic version of themselves. That is the vision that I have for this blog.
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Love Lavender’s Vision
To grow with one another, gradually.
To create a space of power & vulnerability.
To share resources, tips, and empowerment tools.
Most importantly, to inspire and support one another.
resilient.health.blog 