Tag: mentalhealth

Organization in the Midst of Chaos

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I’m in the middle of rebranding, dealing with Wisconsin unemployment, and moving back into my good old childhood home in this pandemic. You could say that I’m surrounded by a little bit of chaos. I’m sure that everyone has their own chaos that they’re dealing with in the face of this unexpected pandemic.

I’ve really tried to figure out the key to keeping myself afloat during all of this. Everyday I try to figure out the right words to string together to make you feel a little better after reading my posts. It can get a little exhausting, especially when those keys haven’t necessarily presented themselves in your own life yet.

One month into quarantine, I feel like I have a little gem I can share with all of you on the World Wide Web…. organization. I know, it seems almost unnecessary when your daily list of tasks includes brushing your teeth twice and making sure your dog stays alive alongside you. I get it. You may not be planning school, interviews, or work shifts in your planner right now, but that doesn’t mean that you’re off the hook when it comes to organizing your new kicks (even if it’s for a couple months before things are back to normal).

  • I’ve looked like this during quarantine….
  • ….but I’ve always looked like this.
Importance of the photos above is that though they might represent different goals throughout the day, I did my full skincare routine in both photos. There’s habits that I absolutely did not skip, because I’ve taught myself that they’re part of my lifestyle even in social isolation.

My friends would all tell you I thrive on organization now, but I haven’t always been this way. School came really easy to me (yes, I’m flexing), so the need for any sort of organization wasn’t even on my radar. When I got to college and realized in the first week that I didn’t even know how to take notes, organization became something I started to obsess over, research, and implement wherever I could.

No, I’m not telling you that you have to make a color coded Excel document with every single thing that you’ll do throughout the month on it. I mean, I do, but “different strokes for different folks,” right? So, let’s find a happy medium between chaos and that Excel sheet, okay?

I posted this little cutie about school notes, but having color coordinated planners, reminders, and business notes has been KILLER in staying organized even during pandemic turmoil.

Alright, I hate myself so much for writing this. Mornings are important. I’m not a morning person…. AT ALL. I would rather stay up all night finishing a project than get up early to start it, anybody with me? Honestly though, having a little bit of organization in a morning routine is essential to implementing it in other places throughout your life. Even if you wake up saying “I hate EmyDBlog for making me even consider this,” try to set and alarm and wake up at a certain time each day during quarantine. I’ve really been striving for 9am. Everybody’s morning routines are different and I’ll definitely be doing a podcast (which can be found here: https://www.instagram.com/afreshstartpodcast/) on what I do in mine, but try and build some habits in your morning that just start to feel “normal.” Quarantine isn’t ever going to feel normal even if you have NOTHING on your to-do list, some structure is going to make you feel more productive and a little happier!

Okay, this one might be a stretch for “beginner” level organization. I encourage anyone(and I really do mean anyone) that I talk to about mental health, to 1) journal and 2) habit track. For me, journalling is a big part of organization because it is the part in my day that I get to decompress what I’m feeling. It gets all those yucky emotions out so I don’t carry them with me into the next day or my next project. Even if it’s two sentences,it’s good to just make that a habit. Habit tracking is a little harder, but can be really rewarding if you start doing it correctly.

Big tip: find a cute journal – you’ll want to write more. Other journals with prompts are available all over Amazon & Target!

I started habit tracking as a freshman in college. Honestly, it was because I would forget to take my medicine and needed a reminder in my planner. As weird as this sounds,  checking one of those boxes made me feel accomplished when I had felt like total shit the rest of the day. Habit tracking has opened my eyes to habits that I absolutely don’t want (like my intake of Mountain Dew) and habits that are completely falling to the curb (like the fact that I do NOT drink enough water). There are amazing apps for habit tracking. I’m tracking a lot of different things throughout the week to analyze later, but I started by looking at 2-3 things daily! You can learn so much about yourself by starting small. 

Obviously, there’s so much more that goes into organization. I’ll definitely be adding more posts about this, but my last little tidbit for my time being in quarantine? Make your damn bed. You can call me Sergeant EmyD over here. Hey, maybe even add it to your habit tracker??? But seriously, making your bed gives you a fundamental level of organization that supersedes all other chaos in life. Fake it ‘till you make it, right? My whole life could be in shambles, but my bed being made makes me feel like I at least have some of my shit together.

These are beginning steps, but soon you’ll be changing things around you’re space that just make you feel fundamentally more organized. Here’s the beautiful thing, you get to go at your own pace!

Organization, like most other things in your life, is centered around habits. As you probably already know, it takes a while to build those. There’s not one single Instagram queen or viral blogger who just woke up to a million followers and the most organized lifestyle of all time. Organization is learned. So, if during quarantine you’ve “learned” that your lifestyle includes waking up at 3pm, eating only take out, and going to bed at 5am, I have no judgement for you. BUT, if you’re unsatisfied with those habits you absolutely can unlearn them and learn to be a person that gets up at 5am, eats kale for every lunch, and goes to bed at 8pm. Over here – I’m going to be a happy medium. Whatever you’re doing to stay cool as a cucumber during this time is totally valid. But, if you want just a little bit of structure to this total shit show that is an international pandemic, don’t say I’ve never given you anything 😉

Questions on my organization plan? Comments on other amazing ways to say organized? Let me know in my DMs on IG, Twitter, or Facebook (@EmyDBlog) or email me at emydblog@gmail.com today! I’d love to hear your story! 

I Got Laid Off Due to COVID-19

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I’m doing my absolute best to remain calm. We’ve seen before that I’m not good at dealing with A) change, B) financial insecurity, or C) anxiety. So, this is a trying time for me. I’m trying to remind myself that I’m with my family and, if I do get sick, I have them. I’m trying to remind myself that my parents have already offered to help me out with my bills through the end of my lease; if it came to that, of course.

Life’s little St. Patrick’s Day gift to me and my coworkers was the restaurant most of us have called home for 30+ hours a week to-go food only. No dine-in guests means no servers and no tips. . Plainly put, the restaurant doesn’t need us right now. As of March 17th, I have been laid off from my job. I’ll have one more paycheck before I no longer have an income.

For all intents and purposes, I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m trying to remind myself that I’m with my family and, if I do get sick, I have them. I’m trying to remind myself that my parents have already offered to help me out with my bills through the end of my lease; if it comes to that, of course. Sure, I’ll be in a financially uncomfy spot for a while. I also might go a little loco inside my childhood home for the foreseeable future. However, I don’t have a family to support. I don’t have a mortgage. I don’t have to provide food for anyone. I don’t have crazy loans… well, hold up, I do actually. But, they’re from school,  which means they can be postponed in situations like this.

Am I scared? Fuck yes. Am I nervous about what my life is going to look like in a month? Absolutely. Am I getting more and more anxious about this as information is released? For sure. I have not, however, had an anxiety attack. Every time I feel it coming on, I remind myself that I’m blessed for the position that I’m in. Though I’m absolutely allowed to feel nervous and validated in my fear, there are others who have less resources and less support.

I work with people whose entire livelihood is dependent on the business of the restaurant. They work at 3 jobs, all of which have been closed due to the spread of this terrible virus. Missing even one paycheck is going to be detrimental to their entire family. I have the option to apply for unemployment. For one reason or another, not everyone does. I have two parents who have a lot of job security right now that can offer me my old room back. They want me to temporarily move in and depend on them until all of this passes. They have the ability to help me with bills as I start to chip away at the money I’ve saved. Moral of the story: I’m okay. Others are not. Others need as much help and resources as they possibly can get.

COVID-19 is truly scaring the shit out of me. In the last 36 hours, our cases have doubled in Wisconsin. No, I’m not scared of getting sick because as the media says, I would probably be fine as a young, decently-healthy person. I have had a gnarly cough for about a month that feels exactly like the bronchitis I had at this time last year, so I know my lungs are feeling a little tired. Even after that, I’m still not scared of getting the virus. I’m scared for my mom, who has been working tirelessly to keep an assisted living facility on lockdown. I’m scared for my grandma and uncle who are extremely immunocompromised. I’m scared for my friends that take medications every day, which might make them an easier target for all of this.

As it has with the majority of victims, the infection will pass. The thing that keeps me up at night is life just grinding to a halt because no one really knows what to do. The panic that everyone is exhibiting is what goes on inside an anxious person’s mind at a majority of times. Usually, though, we can watch normal life occurring around us and use coping mechanisms to calm ourselves down. In this space, there’s no reassurance from the outside. Everyone is just as scared as you are. No one knows what to do just like you don’t really know what to do. It makes me nervous that American’s panic is not being met with secure plans of action or support for those out of a job. American’s don’t even have the privilege of believing their executive branch because it’s stance goes from “not a real threat” to “always knew it was going to be dangerous” in just a matter of days.

Panic comes from fear. There’s not a lot of things that are strong enough to fight that force besides kindness, patience, and empathy. This is not the time to point fingers at people across the world who are experiencing loss and uncertainty at rates even higher than we are. This is not the time to stimulate the bank accounts of people with millions of dollars, but the time to ensure that working class Americans don’t lose their homes or starve to death. This is not the time for a “every man for himself” mentality, but for us to help those in our community with any resources we might have a surplus of – even if that surplus is just positivity in the face of so much chaos.

So, yes. I was one of the thousands of Americans that was laid off from their job as coronavirus rages through each state. I’m one of the thousands that’s looking to our leaders for support, whether it be financial, information, or physical.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. My absolute favorite line in The Lion King is “I know that the clouds will clear and that the sun will shine.” This will pass. It may not seem like it now. It might get much, much worse before it gets any better. Until then, reach out to your loved ones, read a book, do a puzzle, listen to my podcast, learn a new language, play a video game. If the government urging you to do so isn’t enough, stay home because it keeps people that are at larger risk of dying from this disease safe from transmission that you may or may not be feeling. If that’s not enough, stay home because it sets an example for those around you that you give a fuck about this. And if that’s not enough…. Stay home because it might allow people like me and my coworkers to get back to work faster.

Keep up with my social distancing on all forms of social media (@EmyDBlog on Insta, Twitter, and Facebook). If you’re feeling overwhelmed by all of this, please don’t hesitate to reach out! If you want to chat with me via email, you can do so at emydsaliby@gmail.com.

Let’s Talk Migraines!

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First of all, any of you that are about to say “migraines are just really bad headaches…” I’m gonna need you to exit stage left. This blog’s is not for you. I could rant and ramble through all the facts on why that’s wrong and I won’t change your mind. But, if you’ve ever had a migraine before, witnessed someone with a migraine, felt chronic pain, or feel empathy for others this one is for you, my little angels.

I didn’t start getting migraines until senior year of high school. I thought I did because I’ve always been really sensitive to light and sound. I got a LOT of headaches because I was swimming so lots of long days in chemical filled rooms with loud starts and yelling. When I wasn’t doing that, I was on a stage with bright lights, loud music, and microphones. Genuinely, I don’t remember a time that I wasn’t getting headaches at least a couple of times a week, but ibuprofen could usually knock those guys out.

I know you guys live for my throwback pictures, so don’t say I never gave you anything.
Two in a row!! I must be feeling some kind of way

So, I thought a bad headache was a migraine when I was like 16. It was my head and it hurt. What’s the difference, ya know? DUDE. I got my first migraine in the winter of my senior year. I had just finished a dance camp for show choir where we do like day long camps to perfect the show. It’s long, grueling, and kind of stressful because you know you have to compete in like two weeks.

I’m not sure if it was lack of water, stress, the seasons changing, my depression, or a mixture of a million other things, but my head started to feel a little tight. Like, my neck and my shoulders felt like they were carrying a bowling ball and about to crack under the pressure. I tried to sleep it off and I could even move without sending shooting pains from the base of my head to my temple to right behind my eyes and all the way back around. The tiny little lights that showed that my phone was charging was like someone flashing a strobe in my face. It was kind of like I had super sonic hearing too, I felt like I could hear the neighbor down the street cough and it was being amplified right into my eardrum. This wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced.

I’ve already kind of talked about pain in a blog. But, you body does everything it possibly can to get rid of the pain it feels. That’s why you feel fevers or your blood pressure spikes sometimes. It’s those little cells fighting off the ones that they don’t necessarily recognize or like. When I get migraines, my body usually tries to ward off the pain by making me really nauseous, giving me a fever, or making me light-headed.

If you’re someone who’s dealt with chronic pain or even like pain from a surgery or something, you know that ibuprofen can only do so much. It can only take so much of the edge off and it can only last for so long. After suffering for hours, I started to see these little spots in my vision. It was like I had starred into the sun. They were little gaps in my vision where there are bright spots – I later learned that people call those auras. I’m pretty familiar with those now.

My parents took me to the hospital when I genuinely couldn’t stop crying and every time I sobbed my head just sent a shooting pain around my head. I had my first ‘migraine cocktail” at 17 years old. It’s an IV mixture of Benadryl, anti-nausea, and another hardcore painkiller. It’s uncomfortable to say the absolute least… you have an IV in your inner arm and cold fluids coursing into you. It’s not amazing, but not having a migraine is worth it.

It’s been 5 years since my first migraine. I’ve gone through about 4 different kinds of medicine to try and get rid of them. I talked a little bit about this in a past blog, but I had issues like weight gain, irritability, and other really shitty side effects because of medications used to prevent migraines.

It’s scary when it’s your head too. You can get an Xray to look at the bones in your arm, but when it’s your head, it’s your brain. You can’t see it. You have to get in a big tube to diagnose it. It’s just always a little bit more scary.

Right now, I take about 100 mg of a drug called topirimate. It’s also been helpful when I was waking up in the middle of the night and eating a bunch of stuff. It’s been the most successful of everything that we’ve tried.

This is the most recent time that I’ve needed to get a migraine cocktail. Pardon my french, but it’s the fucking worst. Lately, I’ve been losing my vision in my left eye, sometimes in both. Which makes literally everything that I’m used to doing virtually impossible.

I don’t get them a lot anymore. Which means that the medicine is doing it’s job, thank god. But, as with any medication, there is some hiccups. I would say I get maybe one migraine a month. Which is far better than getting one to two a week as I was. When I do get them, my coworkers have been so helpful in getting shifts covered last minute and understanding that I’m pretty much a walking zombie.

It’s really hard to explain. It’s really hard to go through. But, as with anything on this blog, the sun will shine through tomorrow. It might be shitty now. It might be painful, confusing, and just annoying… but damnit, we will prevail, my little angels.

What do you want hear about next? What’s going on in your life that you might want to read about in a blog? Slide into my DMs on any socials or email me at emydsaliby@gmail.com to recommend a blog!

Pain Meds and an Addictive Personality

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I think I’ve kind of eluded to this on here and the podcast, but I have a really addictive personality. Not in a way that I have ever gotten caught up in serious substance abuse problems, thank god. But, I have seen my addictive personality come out in other ways as I’ve grown up.

I first started to feel a little bit of an addictive personality when it came to show choir – I know, I’m a nerd. Guys, I fucking loved that shit. I was actually really really good at it too.

I loved the rush of performing and putting a huge smile on my face, even when everything felt wrong in the world. It was like a high. My Junior year, I was named a dance captain and I felt this surge of energy go through my veins in getting validation that I was good at something other than school and swim. I’ve always been REALLY competitive. I get that endearing (and sometimes highly annoying) trait from my father. But, I was felt a little addicted to having a hand in the success of the group… and learning how to be a good leader through that overwhelming and obsessive feeling.

Now, I hold a manager position at my job and I’m not really like that. I’ve always considered myself a leader, but my addictive personality has found something else to kind of focus on throughout the years. I’ve gone through: boyfriends, food, and mental illness. It’s so important to be able to see those addictive personality traits in yourself so that when you are using something that could really be a trainwreck, like pain medication, you’re really careful.

So, I didn’t really realize the show choir thing was obsessive until I was more analytical about my mental illness recently. I just thought I was competitive and very possibly, I was just a combination of the two. One way I know I was addictive in a toxic way was with my last long term relationship.

Again, broken record over here, but you know some of the details of that relationship. Very bad. Abusive. Yadda yadda yadda. One of these days, I will take the time to write something out start to finish, but that require remembering everything and dealing with those emotions again in a new, healthy way…. so, for the purpose for this story, it was NOT a good situation. We were not together anymore, but we were very seriously talking. I was under the impression that we were working towards a relationship. He obviously was not considering he was talking to both his most recent ex and the ONE girl he promised was just his friend (who he’s now dating) but that’s irrelevant. Despite how shitty that relationship made me feel, how much I cried, and how much I lost myself in that process of trying to be with him, I was genuinely addicted to trying to get him to love me.

I would say and do just about anything for him to spend time with me or give me attention. Again, he didn’t make me feel good and the relationship wasn’t good. No one approved of us even spending time together after all the bridges he’d already burned, so why? I was just addicted. I was addicted to the idea of someone wanting me. I was addicted to the chase. I was addicted to the idea that I could get him back. Most of all, I was addicted to blaming myself, so I was always trying to right those wrongs… even if there really wasn’t any solutions to be had there.

I wasn’t addicted to our relationship. Truthfully, I don’t even think I really wanted it in the capacity that I once had it. I was addicted to filling the void. For example, people with nicotine addictions don’t like love that they are addicted to nicotine or want to constantly want a cig. What they want is that high, that feeling, that fills the void – even if it’s just until you light up the next one.

Like I said, I used food to fill that void too. Sometimes, I still do. But, there was a time that I was addicted to eating food – way too much food. Honestly, I’m typing this after a night of binging on Reese’s peanut butter cups… so I don’t know if I’m totally over that addiction. I know that it’s been much worse – where I would turn to it out of boredom, stress, happiness, and even just because. Now, its just a remaining issue with a poor relationship with food.

These days, I would say that I most struggle with an addiction to my mental illness. I know that that’s a little confusing when you’re just reading it, but let me explain. For so long, I’ve not been okay. I genuinely don’t remember a point in my life where I didn’t hate myself, my body, or my mind. I’m NOT saying that as an invitation to my pity party – just the opposite actually. Because I haven’t been okay for so long, I started to get a little addicted to my mental illness in a number of ways. I started to get addicted to stress because I was scared of depression and sleeping my days away again. Maybe it’s not always a bad thing in this chosen path, because it can help me fixate on one thought, feeling, or emotion until I’m able to blog or podcast about it. But, it’s always hard to then leave that in the past.

As I said before, I’ve never really had a substance abuse problem. I have had little benders when I would get way to drunk literally every single time I drank, but part of that was just being young, stupid, and depressed. I didn’t HAVE to have a drink in the morning to function or to spill my emotions to the first person that would listen. That doesn’t change the fact that I have to understand that my addictive personality COULD make that a very easily habit to pick up.

I recently got my wisdom teeth out. Yes, it is as bad as they say. No, I didn’t get dry sockets. But, it hurt like a bitch to put it lightly & they gave me hydrocodone to deal with the pain. In my defense, they gave me 8 pills and I could take them every six hours…. so I was supposed to be not writhing in pain after 48 hours? I call bullshit. They said the swelling wouldn’t even start until after then!! So, I wanted more hydrocodone that I could take before a super long shift…. and it got me worried… was I developing an addiction? Was I dependent on these drugs to feel normal? I mean, I had tried to go just to ibuprofen and I couldn’t get through my day…

It didn’t help that my dad kind of joked about the same thing when I came home to get some stronger pain medicine. “It can happen to anyone,” he had said. It was clear that he was kind of kidding, but also a little worried about pain management while being stressed, taking other prescription medications, and living alone.

If I would have sent this to my oral surgeon, do you think he would have refilled my prescription?

Listen, to say that I struggled with pain medication would be a lie. I didn’t. But, it really got me thinking about how having an addictive personality can be both tangible and intangible. You can see the side effects of withdrawal from medication that’s no longer pumping through your system or you can feel a withdrawal from not having a toxic relationship constantly in your life. You can take a pill or puff to get your fix, or you can stalk an Instagram or maybe even eat 10 portions over what’s recommended.

I wouldn’t even call myself an addict, but I would absolutely say that I have a very addictive personality that can absolutely bite me in the ass sometimes. Like always, knowing my mind and body is so powerful in this ongoing journey toward better health. If sharing in this realization can get your little brain motors moving, well I just might have done my job today.

What do you want to hear about next? Hit me up on any of my socials to suggest a blog that might better relate to YOU and YOUR LIFE! Follow, like, and comment for constant

Slowly but Surely, You’re On Your Way

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The last month or so has been utter chaos. Some days, I’ve been thriving in it. Others, all I’ve wanted to do is shut down. No one likes that icky feeling of having too much to do and not enough time to do it. In moments when time does not seem to be on my side, I think of what my used to say when I was pressuring her about getting me to school faster in the busy morning hours of middle and high school.

Imagine this 8th grade face trying to hustle you drive them to school every morning. God bless my mother, for real. She’s a saint.

“Emily, the car is currently moving forward. I’m in the process of getting you there. I can only go the speed limit & I have to stop at all the stop signs. You will get there. I promise.”

In those moments, it pissed me off. Usually being late was my fault because I still sleep to the last possible minute of time. Honestly, that’s still why I’m late to this day. About ten years later, though, my mom’s words mean something a little different.

Time isn’t always on our side. Sometimes, we’re expected to do 100000000 things in time that doesn’t even seem like enough to breathe or think. It happens in our workplace, at home, and at school. When you have a hard time saying no, this problem only gets worse. Not only do you have all the responsibilities that come with just being you, but then you’ve added on some new ones that you resentfully said yes to completing.

Lately, I’ve been trying to get used to a new place and new schedule in which a big portion of my time isn’t taken up by school. In a perfect world, I should be able to deal with chaos MORE gracefully than before. I mean, I have the time and the energy that I could turn my focus to it. Without a set schedule or syllabus to keep me in line, I’m feeling a lot of chaos that I wasn’t necessarily prepared for in entering this chapter of my life.

In my head, I thought I’d have all this time to plan out the blog, social media posts, and the podcasts. Since I’m not dragging around a backpack full of textbooks on public policy or astrology, I thought I’d have the opportunity to really lazer in on what I love without a second thought. Let me just tell you, it DOES need a second thought. All this time is amazing, but it’s easy to get sucked into like an addict and a substance. If you walk into the chapter thinking that all you have to do is sleep and work, all you’re going to get done is sleep and work – seems natural, right? There’s no shame in sleeping and working – you do you, boo boo. But, if you think that because the time is there, it’s going to automatically allocated to the new side hustle, hobby, or interest without a little bit of refocusing or recentering…. that’s just not realistic in my world.

I’ve realized this is kind of the same with friendships too. When I was in school, I was seeing the people I loved as much as possible but had these legitimate things in the way from me seeing them all the time – homework, quizzes, exams, whatever. I thought when I moved closer & didn’t have any of those things, I would see them everyday without any added effort.

Truth is, sometimes you have to kind of refocus your social life too! Like, if you want to see your friends more or want the invite to the bars & that wasn’t your scene in a previous chapter, you’re able to make it your scene now!

I had this big assumption that I would move and I would automatically fall into the perfect schedule for a new business and a full-time job and a more involved social life. I assumed that that would require little to no work from me. I was way wrong & it just kind of caused chaos that was hard for me to wade through and understand for a while.

Like my mom said, though, we are on our way. The car is moving forward. We might have to come to complete stops in understanding what’s holding us back or dealing with some trigger, but you are still in the car on the way to where you’re supposed to be. You also can’t drive way above the speed limit. Sometimes, we’re so obsessed with speed through life to get to a certain checkpoint, that we take the roads that we’re traveling in ways that aren’t safe or effective to us. It just causes more chaos.

We are all moving forward. We are on our way and we can’t just jump through this journey. So it might be bumpy or smooth, but dammit, you’re on your way.

What do you want to hear about next on the blog? Tweet me, message me, or slide into any of my DMs on socials: @EmyDBlog. You can also share your story and email me at EmyDSaliby@gmail.com!

I Fear My Own Success

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Recently, I’ve been listening to a podcast called “The RISE Podcast with Rachel Hollis”. If you recognize the name, it’s because she’s written books like Girl, Wash Your Face and Girl, Stop Apologizing. Her and husband also run a multi-million dollar media company that they essentially started from scratch aka MY DREAM.

When I listen to podcasts, it’s usually while I’m doing 15 other things to be completely honest. Like, I’ll be folding laundry or cleaning and listening. Or, I’ll be bullet journaling and “listening”. In those instances, I find myself missing some stuff and having to go back every so often. If you haven’t found out yet, humans aren’t good multitaskers (but that, is for another day, another blog.) With this podcast, I have to listen to it when I’m doing literally nothing else OR I have to have my iPad near me to jot down some notes if I feel so inclined. Listening made me realize that that’s the kind of information that I want to give you. Yes, of course there’s an entertainment level about all of this. But, if I want to start making a real difference, I have to pull out all the stops and just completely give you what I know.

I was listening to “What’s Keeping You from Making a Million Dollars?” when I kind of realized that I’m terrified of my own success. Not in a way that I don’t want money, I don’t want people to download the podcast, or that I don’t want people to follow my media platforms. No, I’m starting to realize that I’m terrified by what real success represents in my life.

This is because I’m terrified of both change and the unknown. I journaled about this today, so I feel like I understand my inner dialogue a little more. But, truthfully, I would rather sit in the comfort (or even discomfort) of where I am right now, then be successful and change my lifestyle. Think about it, when you’re abundantly successful, everything changes. Your home life, your schedule, your work load, your relationships, and everything in between. In order to be successful, you have to also welcome those changes. This is something I haven’t been doing at all. Like yes, I want to make more money, but I’m not willing to give up the flexibility in my schedule that I currently have if I do become that successful. Or yes, I would love to make this a more permanent livelihood, but I’m not sure I would be ready to move.

None of this is to say that you don’t have a say in how you are successful. You are the queen of your own journey – in whatever that journey is. BUT, it’s more a realization that with levels of success comes natural changes to lifestyle, schedule, work ethics, and just plain life. Fear of those changes will ward away a certain level of success that is absolutely obtainable if you’re “all in” as they say.

Since I was a kid, I have felt in my bones that I was supposed to be heard. When I was younger, that dream was about being a singer and famous. As I grew up and entered dark stages of my life, I genuinely didn’t think I would make it to a point that I could stand in front of people and be heard – so I wrote. In the last few years, I’ve gone from wanting to be a politician to just wanting to be an advocate for those struggling to find their own. Now, I feel this fire in my soul that what I have to say is meant for more than just a couple hundred followers. I have this eye on a prize of success, when I don’t really know what that means yet. I say this to my family and close friends all the time, but this journey really does feel like a time bomb that’s just waiting to burst onto the scene. Maybe, the reason this bomb hasn’t exploded is because my fear of the aftermath.

I’m writing this with so much certainty in my tone not because I’m naive of the chance of failure, but because this finally feels like the spark I felt as a kid is getting bigger. It finally feels like I’m growing into the person that 5 year old Emily would be proud of. When abundant success does happen, life will change. BUT, those key people, aspects, and players will change along with it; to adapt to this new found success. So, my little sweeties, this is the year I welcome success and consider all the forms it’s presented to me in. Change is scary as fuck – business or no business. But, the only way I can keep this spark growing is if I allow the flame to build and other parts of my life to catch on fire along with my soul.

So, I just realized I fear my own success… and I’m not scared anymore.

OMG Just Journal About It

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Sometimes I have a hard time thinking of a blog that is worthwhile to type. Is this going to relate to anyone else? Is someone going to read this and feel something? I mean, how stupid is it that I get self conscious about a BLOG?! For fuck’s sake, if you didn’t want to read it, you wouldn’t. Sure, I love when people tell me that my words matter, but writing is something I started doing for myself. It’s something that I felt so drawn to do because I could eloquently say what I was feeling without crying. For a long time, though, I wasn’t blasting the closet doors open to share all my skeletons with the world. Honestly, I wasn’t even using technology to write these words down.

I thought that journals were like the hipster’s way of saying a diary. It annoyed me to even think of the prospect of only talking about a crush in the words of a notebook for someone to find and tell the whole school about. I didn’t realize that diaries, journals, notebooks, whatever are much more than just spilling your butterfly-filled crushes. For me, at least, the pages of my journal are bright and chipper, then dark. They directly resemble my mood without the filter of society or social norms – it is truly the only place that I can be myself without worry of judgement.

I very rarely go back in my journal. 1) The words that I wrote in one day are just that – one day. They don’t need to play a part in how I act today or tomorrow. 2) I vent in my journal, like a lot. It might make me repissed at someone or even myself if I go back and read.

The only times that I have gone back are to count the number of bullshit ass entries that I had about my ex. In moments where I didn’t really know what to do, whether to tear the walls down and let him in or keep myself safe, I would go back and see just how much hurt he was causing me in those moments of self reflection. That day, I realized that he was the only thing that I was talking about in my journal… he was taking up all of my thoughts and worries. So much so, that things I should have been analyzing and decompressing just weren’t happening.

Any mental health professional will tell you that journaling is a good key into the complex maze that is your mind. What they don’t tell you, though, journaling can be the the light that leads you through that maze. When everything seems a little hazy, letting your mind just kind of write can give you a lot of clarity.

My trusty little journal. I’ve filled a couple in my years. It’s dirty, some pages are ripped, but I bring it almost everywhere on the off change that I just need to get the words onto the page.

People journal for different reasons. One of the online mentors that I look up to a lot chooses to do her journal in the morning because it feels as though she’s setting intentions for the day. She feels the most clarity and analytical with her thoughts right after she wakes up. Some people, want to wrap up their day with a journal entry. To them, it feels like a good way to actually chew and digest all of the parts of the day. I’m gonna be real with you guys – I have a very specific mood I need to be in to successfully journal and get something out of it. I have had so many of those rambling entries where I’m talking about shit that doesn’t matter because I forced myself to write one page about the day. In every day, there’s a moment where I feel the capacity to get really analytical or I’m motivated to get some brain juices flowing – THAT’S my time.

I try to be a role model in all that I do. When I fail, I try to share that failure with the world, normalize it, and start again unaltered. If there’s one thing that I would tell ANYONE struggling to do, it’s write it down. Seriously, you’ll be so surprised what you can learn about yourself and your mental state by letting your mind just kind of go. If you’re not into long journal entries that dissect all the parts of your day, write one word. One word to describe your day. It’s so helpful to have something tangible to remember how your really felt in a moment. Therapists/Counselors will do an intake with any new clients where they ask questions like “Out of the last month, how many times have you felt sad, down, or depressed?” ENTER JOURNAL!!!

As human beings, we remember these big moments in our lives and the feelings that revolved around them. When you’re trying to recall how you felt in a specific day, you’ll probably take a tally of all the things that happened and judge it on those events. Truth is, that’s not how you felt about the whole day and things that affected your mood or psyche in that day might not even be on your radar anymore – but are important to analyze and realize about yourself!

So, don’t be scared to write it down. Vent about it to the lines of a journal or safe space. Type. I don’t care. But, don’t feel like you have to keep that stuff inside you. Maybe your thoughts aren’t exactly pretty or nice, but getting them out in the world (in a way that they can’t hurt others) is the best way to forgive, heal, and start to move on. I promise!

Do YOU have a journal? Do you do a mood tracker? If not, is there something stopping you from writing down your thoughts for a quick minute? Or, do you even feel like you need it? Share your thoughts with me @EmyDBlog on Insta, Twitter, and FB. I’d looooove to chat about it! You can also have a one-on-one email conversation with me by emailing emydsaliby@gmail.com!

Must Be Funny, In a Rich Man’s World

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I don’t have a relationship with money. Even when I have plenty to pay all my bills, save some, and do fun stuff, it never really feels like enough. I read a book once that said that you have stress about things that were surrounded by stress in your formative years.

I knew that I always had food, a warm bed, clothes, and my own bed every single night. I was able to do a lot of things that children around me couldn’t. Being hyperaware, though, has always been a curse as well as a blessing. My parents never talked about money with me. Never told me if they were struggling – on the contrary, my dad always said “you can always make more money” or “we will make it work”. That being said, I don’t come from a long line of royalty or business moguls either. I don’t have a trust fund & the value of a dollar became very apparent very early on.

Literally the cutest family ever. Sullivan did make it cuter I will admit.

My parents worked their asses off to get where they are. Like many in their generation, they don’t have these Masters degrees in their field, but were able work their way up. I spent my childhood watching my parents move up into jobs that valued you them more, paid them better, and that they loved doing. At 14, I wanted to be able to *kind of* provide for myself. I got a job in childcare at our church. My first paycheck I became obsessed with the idea of saving, not having enough, and having more.

Some of my friends never had to, and still don’t really have to, worry about a job. They have a credit card linked to their dad’s personal checking account for when times get too tough… and if that’s you, God bless you, dude. Good for your parents. Good for whoever made the fortune for the family – you and I just live very different lives.

At 14, I started to get worried about saving for college. 14 years old. I mean, I had to go to school and I could only work X amount of hours in a week. The thought of my parents paying my way made me sick to my stomach. Again, if your parents had that ability or that was your family’s plan, more fucking power to you. It just makes me REALLY uncomfortable. In my head, my parents are supposed to make sure I have food, shelter, and love. Even that, is more than some people have. I didn’t want or need them to pay for school… I could do that myself.

Let’s not get it twisted; my parents did put their credit on the line to co-sign on a lot of bullshit for me. Especially these student loans, so again, couldn’t have done it without them. After 4.5 years, I was happy to receive my diploma on my own merit, payments that I had made, and debt I had taken on myself.

My parent’s graduation gift to me was paying off a couple private loans. That gift cuts one of my monthly payments in half and takes care of thousands of dollars of school debt. I didn’t feel like I could accept it, even if it was a gift. It was their money – money that they could use to take trips, buy something lavish, or just save.

As I’m writing this, I’m thinking about rent, utilities, my car payment, loans, credit card, and just the price of being alive. There are huge steps I need to take in learning better ways to save money. I need to take better advantage of my monthly budget. God knows, I need to cool it on eating out so much. BUT, the first step of making money and having a good relationship with it has been instilled in me since I was a kid – work your ass off.

Spending someone else’s money is fun and exciting, but earning your own and supporting yourself is soooo empowering. So, if you find yourself spending a lot of money on things that seem temporary, I would challenge you with the question: Do I value one dollar? Do I value my time as a means of making money? Am I spending money to cope with something else? Odds are, one or more of those questions will lead you to some pretty vulnerable realizations about your relationship with money.

I actually really like current my job. I work with my best friends and I’m good at what I do. PLUS, sometimes we get to meet sweet baby angels like these puppies. But, I don’t see myself doing this forever.

I still struggle with moments of stress when it comes to money. I question the path of content creation I’ve chosen and whether it will be as fruitful and successful as I imagine my later life to be. And sure, I could join a corporate office that draws on my majors and make a salary and have a lot less unknown. I made a decision, though, that I would rather be happy, doing what I love, and living a somewhat more restrictive life in terms of finances than working in an office, feeling stale and unhappy, but having extra money in my bank account.

I’m recently listening to the RISE podcast with Rachel Hollis who is a multimillion dollar business owner with just a high school degree. She’s the author of books like “Girl, Wash Your Face” that have become all the rage in today’s younger success-hungry demographic. I listen and actually TAKE NOTES on her words, because her path is something I’m striving for. She always says “there are a LOT of ways to make money and pay your bills.” Which is so true! Money is circling around every industry, every career, and is waiting to be given to driven, motivated people. So, even if the moments now are stressful, I have to remember the end goal is getting paid for doing what you LOVE rather than settling for what you like.

Money is stressful. It’s a huge part of everyone’s mental health. But, you can always make it.. you WILL figure it out, and regardless of what your bank account looks like, you’re worthy of happiness, relaxation, and serenity. This is just as much a reminder for me as it is for all of you.

A Little Medicine Mishap

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I’ve posted a blog about my medicine before and I’ve talked a lot about it on the podcast as well. Recently, someone asked me my opinion on prescription drugs for mental illness. Though I’m very loud and proud about how helpful prescription antidepressants have been here for me, that question made me realize that some people are either liking the medical treatment that they are receiving, or they’re struggling with the side effects or stigma of medicine.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a success story. Finding the right dosage and the right medicine has been a hell of a struggle, but I’m finally in a place where I’m comfortable with all of it. I truly know that I’m one of the lucky ones, as some people struggle with finding the right fit (or not finding one at all) for years and years longer than I did.

That’s not to say that I don’t have days or moments when I don’t wanna throw the whole bottle away. When I introduce new products, medications, or regiments, I have to be really really aware of my mood changes. In the past, when I’ve changed birth control methods, it drastically effected my mood the days immediately surrounding my period – like my antidepressants were just a wash. Most recently, I had a huge issue with migraines. Let me just tell you, finding a headache medicine that didn’t make me feel like either a Zombie or She-Hulk has been a hell of a time. I settled on a pretty big dosage of Topirimate.

Coincidentally, this medicine effects my current birth control method AND my hormones!!! So, I was sporting THIS for a good amount of time before I had enough:

I’m embarrassed that this pic is even going anywhere on the Internet. But, you guys follow me to be real with you! This painful cystic acne was a result of taking 100 mg just to not get a migraine every day for 10 days.

Grand scheme: this isn’t that big of a deal. I bought some expensive full coverage foundation and did some more cleansing face masks in an attempt to rectify. However, the medicine was working to quickly, and my skin & hair were NOT fans. Of course it’s TMI, but I also went from almost never having a regular period, to having one for 3 weeks straight. Hell. on. Earth.

Again, having a good relationship with medical personnel is always a benefit. I was able to shoot my primary care doctor and my psychiatrist about the problem. They advised to half the pills and see if the problems persisted… which puts us to right about now. I have gotten more headaches and migraines because of the lower dose. My skin, hair, and menstrual issues have cleared up though. So, it’s really weighing my evils at this point – deal with migraines as they come occasionally and experience a little pain before I can stop them OR going through puberty for what feels like the second time & be worried about my birth control being ineffective sometimes. I chose the former.

End of the day, even the people who have a good fit when it comes to one medicine, might find it really hard to ever take antibiotics or other prescription medications. I’ve dealt with the physical icky feeling, the absolutely impossible to deal with acne, weight gain, and changes in birth control because of the medicines that rectify one issue in my body. It’s so so so hard. It sucks. It also sucks that some people’s bodies need these little boosters in the form of pills while others don’t. It just further adds to the stigma that is mental illness medication. Sometimes, medicine isn’t the right path for you. Holistic approaches can also be really helpful for mental health specifically (I’ll do a blog about some that I’ve experimented with very soon!)

My face when I’m expected to act normally but the medicine that fixes one part of my being makes my skin hate me, my hair feel like straw, my sleep suck, and my period go haywire.

No matter what your path may be, stick with it. Work with the medical professionals in your life to find the right fit because I promise it does exist. Even people who are thriving at one end of the medicine spectrum might not be thriving at other parts of their medical well being. As much as it sucks, you are strong and you can persevere. You’ve gotten through all the moments to make you brave enough to reach out for medicine or make the professionals prescribe you with some. You deserve the feeling of finding a good fit for YOU and YOU only.

Next blog goes up on Tuesday! Anything specific you want to hear about? Hit me up on socials, slide into any of my inboxes, or email emydsaliby@gmail.com if you want to chat about anything going on in your life!

A Goodbye to 2019

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The last few New Years, I’ve entered feeling a sense of dread and emptiness. I always thought that the year had been this big failure. I didn’t get skinny, rich, or super successful…. so it was a wash, right?

I will say, I looked good at the start of 2019. But, I had my doubts..

This year, I felt different about the promise of a new year though. Maybe I’m still on this high of graduating and feeling like everything is going to change in this big ah-ha moment. I just felt like this year I learned a lot that was actually substantial to who I’ll become.

This year, I learned that being alone doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re lonely. I spent the first half of the year talking to, seeing, and worrying about my ex – as if one day, our broken foundation would just fix itself and we could be happy. If I’m being honest, it wasn’t really me that chose to move on either. It was thrust upon me with words that felt like bullets. It was like I had hit rock bottom so many times, that I was numb to the feeling. If someone can say things and treat you in ways that they don’t even value your life or safety, RUN FOR THE HILLS. I was with him because it was comfortable, because he was all that I felt I deserved in my moments of self hatred. However, 2019 showed me that being alone isn’t necessarily this scary thing that I’ve built it up to be in my head. My value doesn’t come from men messaging me on dating apps. I must feel my value if I want to attract people that will uphold that standard. I spent time with some amazing guys & past Emily probably would have been into anyone that even breathed in her direction. 2019 taught me that being alone is an opportunity to find yourself, rebrand, and reenter the world as the person you want to be. More importantly, being single gives you the opportunity to fully understand the people that are worth your time and those who are not.

2019 also taught me that sometimes, you have to be fucking selfish. For a long time, I thought that being an ally in mental health meant being understanding of every action someone has against you. Part of being an ally, though, is being an ally for yourself. It’s being empathetic and compassionate without allowing your dreams or goals to take a back burner. For most of my adult life, I’ve been so emotionally invested in others or their struggle, that I failed to deal with my own. I realized that decisions that effect those around you are going to work out when made confidently and from a place of love. I have this business where I just want to help as many people as I can… but part of that is knowing when to say no, when to step away, and when to just chose you too.

2019 taught me who I really want to be – not who I want to be with someone, because of someone, or because it made the most sense. 2019 taught me that I don’t have to get married to my high school sweetheart, pop a couple kids out, and live in my hometown to be successful. If anything, 2019 made me realize that going off this path that I had felt like was my own for so long, was actually the best thing for me. It made me realize that I was achieving for everyone else but me. I had goals in my life purely because I wanted to be better than the girls my ex was sleeping with behind my back. I had some goals purely because “that’s just what you do” as a Midwestern girl. 2019 made take a crazy path of starting a new blog, starting a podcast, and having this unwavering belief that it was going to explode.

2019 taught me how to forgive and move on. It made me realize that I had to feel that anger, hurt, and hatred for those toxic forces in my life in their entirety, before I could allow myself to forgive them. Before I could move on. 2019 gave me a reason to believe that something much bigger and better is out there, even if it’s just a feeling in the pit of my stomach right now. 2019 is learning to forgive the people that you never ever want to see again – even if it’s only so that you can deal with the anger and walk away. 2019 was forgiving a man that I felt destroyed by, only to be thankful that he made me learn strength and perseverance. The year was about forgiving myself for being someone I wasn’t for so long. It was about dealing with the hatred that I had for past decisions and actions, so that I could finally move on and reach a potential meant for me.

Most importantly, 2019 taught me to not give a single fuck what anyone else thinks. It taught me to dive so hard and powerfully into the unknown, regardless of what anyone around me thought. It taught me to say what I meant, without this worry of rejection. It taught me to post what I felt good about, wear what I felt good in, and only be around people that made me smile. 2019 taught me the one and only person I need to have on my side, is myself.