Why Am I Alive?

I’ve asked myself this question so many times. I bet some of you have too. It’s a question that often arises in times of agony and despair. For those with anxiety and depression, since we’re always on edge, it comes randomly… which is even more frightening.

If you follow me on social media, you know that I’ve moved to a new state. Not far, but far enough away to need to rely primarily on myself.

Moving away from the only state that I’ve ever called home has been inevitably difficult. I’ve run into obstacles that I never thought were possible, and I’ve almost completely lost myself in the process. My anxiety, depression, and OCD came back to haunt me with a vengeance. It got so bad to the point where I rushed myself to the emergency room because of severe chest pains. Was I dying? No, but it was at this point that I knew I needed to make room for Khai.

Until then, I hadn’t realized that I was literally ignoring my own needs. I’d once again stopped eating, my sleep schedule was irregular, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to get out of bed in the morning. I knew I needed help.

I immediately began seeking a therapist in my new area and visited her weekly. I’m no longer working with her because my situation turned out to be more specific than what her general license would cover. The good news, however, is that she helped me find someone new, and this new person is AMAZING. She is teaching me how to reclaim the life that OCD, anxiety, and depression have taken from me for who knows how long. She’s also teaching me how to stop feeling bad for saying ‘yes’ to myself.

I understand that these posts have reached audiences I never imagined. I know I should have been more consistent with my posts or at least let my readers know why I’ve been M.I.A. I realize I left hanging those who may have needed me. But in this difficult time, I’ve also realized that I need myself more.

My mentor tells me ALL the time, “be kind to yourself,” and it sounds easy. When I first heard it, I didn’t really understand what she meant. But as my mental health started to decline so much to the point that my physical health was at stake, I finally grasped it.

I need to start nurturing myself so that my spiritual cup remains as full as possible because how can I possibly pour into others if my cup is empty?

I’ve spent so long relentlessly giving myself to others, that I neglected to give myself some TLC. Because of that, my body resorted to physical pain as a wakeup call.

So again I ask, “Why am I alive?”

These past few months have given me time to ponder this question. I’m not quite done growing yet, but the amount of challenges, self-reflection, and self-healing that I’ve endured this far have allowed me to begin to formulate the perfect answer:

I’m alive to touch the lives of others. I’m alive because there’s someone, somewhere going through the same trials, and they need to see that it’s possible to overcome. I’m alive because someone else needs a reason to be, and that’s enough reason for me.

Thanks for sticking around,

Khai

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