You Are Not Broken: A Story of Quiet Survival and Finding Strength in the Mess (My Story)

I’ve always loved music. For me, it’s been a way of connecting to myself, to my emotions, to something bigger. So when I noticed I couldn’t feel much while listening to it anymore, when it just became background noise, I knew something was off. That’s often a quiet sign, amongst others I’m not quite myself.

There have been long stretches, on and off, where the things that usually bring me joy like music just don’t land. No emotional spark, no sense of connection. The same happens with basic tasks. Doing laundry, tidying up and the necessities of life things that should be simple start to feel like climbing a mountain . There’s a sense of hitting a brick wall, of being stuck.

And for a long time, I didn’t have the words for it. I just knew that under my calm exterior, I was carrying more than most people could see. Now, I want to begin sharing little parts of my story, even though it’s hard because I truly want to help others through honesty.

The Inner Life No One Saw

I’ve often been described as “the good girl.” People have called me calm, kind, even angelic. And yes, there’s truth in that. But it’s not the whole story.

Underneath that exterior, I’ve always struggled with negative self-talk. I remember feeling unworthy and different from as young as five years old. I shrank myself emotionally, stayed quiet, rarely expressed what I was really feeling. People called me shy, but it was more than that. It was self-protection.

And yet, I wasn’t invisible. I always had friends, I was part of a group. I did well in school and loved learning. But even that came with its own pain, like the time I was avoided by a group of classmates (who i’m now fine with) for doing slightly better than them in my last year of school. I remember trying to dim myself down just to fit in. Eventually, I chose to lean into my passions, even if it made others uncomfortable. But the belief that being fully myself was “too much” stayed with me.

The Chaos I Grew Up In

It’s only recently that I’ve truly come to terms with how chaotic my childhood was. One of my parents, who I love deeply, has been severely mentally ill my whole life and often absent during my early years. I was with childminders most days, moving between homes, while my well parent did their best to care for the family amid impossible circumstances but also wasn't physically or emotionally available enough.

Even though I was loved, the emotional neglect I experienced was real. I didn’t grow up with routines. I didn’t see what adulthood looked like day-to-day. One parent was caught in a legal battle and as a carer to my ill parent, the other was barely around and unwell, and I often felt confused and emotionally untethered.

We lived in a converted shed near my grandparents’ house due to poverty. It wasn’t glamorous, it was cramped and very unconventional. But that was my normal. What hurt wasn’t the situation itself, but how others reacted to it. Cruel comments from classmates. Dismissive words from professionals who supported my family. They didn’t get it. It left a mark.

The Storm Beneath the Calm

On the outside, I’ve always looked serene. But internally, I’ve bounced between emotional overwhelm and anxiety and complete numbness, whilst also experiencing genuine postive emotions. I rarely sat in the middle ground. It was either too much or nothing at all and that’s exhausting.

Only now do I realise this was my nervous system trying to survive. I wasn’t lazy or emotionally immature. I was protecting myself the only way I knew how. Even as an adult, I’ve learned to hide it well. I smile, I show up, I carry on. But behind the mask is someone who has struggled with anxiety, low-level depression, burnout and maybe even PTSD.

The Small Things That Stay With You

There’s one memory from childhood that’s stayed with me so vividly. I was in the school nativity play, in a starring role (which I felt very nervous about) as the Angel Gabriel and my well parent was meant to pick me up afterwards. I was already used to not having my parents come to watch those kinds of things, performances, school events. That kind of involvement was rare. But I remember waiting, feeling so much anxiety when they were late.

It wasn’t just that moment, it was everything it represented. I didn’t have a proper costume either. Just small, simple things that, on the surface, don’t seem like a big deal. But they are. To a child, they matter more than we realise. They become the little emotional imprints that linger long after the moment passes.

The Weight of What Others Can’t See

Sometimes, the chaos I carry inside shows up in the simplest places. Not long ago, I was staying over at a friend’s place, and we were making up the bed together. She looked at me and asked, “Have you never made a bed before?”

And I just stood there for a moment. Because yes, I do these things every day. But maybe what she didn’t realise is how hard I was finding everything, even basic tasks at that point in time. It’s not because I’m incapable. It’s just, I’m very in my head. I’ve lived so much of my life in survival mode or in emotional overwhelm that the down-to-earth, practical stuff sometimes feels like it flies right over my head.And for a long time, I saw that as a flaw. A weakness. Like I should just be able to do these things with ease.

The truth is, she wasn’t wrong for asking. She was just being normal. It was a casual comment, not meant to hurt me. But it hit me because in that moment I realised just how fragile I still was. And how well I’d been hiding it, even to myself. It’s strange how the smallest, most ordinary things can carry so much weight.

In that moment, I thought: It doesn’t matter. Not really. Because i’ve realised that while practicality is useful, its not a measure of character. If she knew how much I’ve been suffering inside, how hard it’s been just to get out of bed some days, she wouldn’t have made that comment. Just showing up, being there, making conversation, that was already a huge act of courage.

The Risks I Took to Feel Something

At times, I’ve taken risks, nothing extreme, but moments that could have turned out badly. Not because I’m reckless, but because I was numb. I wanted to feel something and I had moments where I felt I don’t care anymore. Those choices weren’t brave they were coping mechanisms. I don’t judge myself for them. That version of me needed care, not criticism.Thankfully, I’ve mostly made sensible choices in life. I haven’t taken things to a dangerous extreme. But there have been a few times where I’ve looked back and thought, What was I doing? Something bad could have happened.

And it wasn’t just about actions I took, it was also about who I let into my life. I made poor choices in trusting people who, because of their own unhealed chaos and pain, ended up hurting me deeply. Sometimes it wasn’t intentional on their part but the impact was still there. I was in a vulnerable place, and I didn’t always have the tools to spot what was unhealthy or unsafe. I believe this is strongly connected to the patterns and internal messages about myself that I learned and created unconsciously. Messages like I’m not worth protecting, this is the love I deserve, or I have to accept whatever is given. These beliefs were never consciously chosen but they were shaped by my early experiences, and for a long time, they quietly guided the way I let people treat me.

Now I’m learning to rewrite them, with more self-awareness, more gentleness, and a lot more care but it is still not always easy.

What I’ve Managed to Do Anyway

Despite everything, I’ve achieved things I’m proud of. I got my degrees, even though university was a rocky experience with ups and downs. And honestly, i’m proud of that. I’ve spoken on podcasts and blogs about supporting a loved one with a mental illness and to try and reduce stigma . I’ve taken part in awareness campaigns, served as a trustee as a young adult, been a guest panelist, and spoken to hundreds of schoolchildren about mental health. These moments helped me see my value and inspired me to start this blog and i’m grateful to those who say something in me and gave me opportunities. When I was a guest on a local radio show raising awareness, the interviewer said to me, ‘You should do a podcast to talk about all of this’. At the time I tucked the idea away. But now, I feel ready to share something, ready to speak more openly about the things i’ve carried and the lessons i’ve learned. And the reason I share my achievements is to show you that it’s possible to turn your pain, your difficult circumstances, into something meaningful. You can shape a life that you are proud of, even if it’s been messy or hard. I’ve done that and I want to keep doing that even more.

To See Someone Like That Misunderstood or Dismissed because of their Illness is Soul-Crushing

But behind those moments and even now there is chaos. My ill parent’s condition has been severe, multiple suicide attempts, hospitalisations, going missing and being found by the police several times and more things that are shocking and distressing to me who knows the situation inside out, let alone others.

This parent is the most sensitive, deeply creative, sweet and kind people I know, an inspiration to me. That’s why it frustrates me even are that there is still so much stigma around mental health, especially when illness is severe, long-term and at times invisible. My parent isn’t always seen as being on the same level as others. They’ve been spoken to as as if they are less capable, less human, less deserving. However, I must acknowledge that there have also been people, especially in hospitals who have been amazing: empathetic, kind and understanding. Those people have my deepest admiration.

Healing, Grace, and the Journey Back to Myself

Eventually, I burned out completely. I left my job, not just because I wanted something new, but because I didn't have much left to give. It was a chance to breathe. Unexpectedly, the pain I’d been holding hit me all at once. I was emotionally and physically drained , not only from being there for my parent and constant stress and unpredictability, but also from the grief I was carrying. Over the last few years, I’ve experienced a lot of loss, including bereavements of people who meant a great deal to me. And all of it, combined finally caught up with me. For months, I sank into a deep low and at the time of writing this,I still am a little low. But that crash began my true healing, as painful as it was and I needed that pause.

Now, I’m learning to create emotional safety. To build gentle routines. To nourish my body and finally treat myself like I matter. I still bury my true feelings sometimes. I still find it hard to let people in. But I’m trying. Slowly, but surely.

You Are Not Broken

If you’ve grown up in chaos, if your story doesn’t fit the mould, please hear this: you are not broken or weird. You are human. And your life doesn’t have to look perfect to be valuable.

I’ve grown more compassionate because of my pain. Am more patient. More open. My childhood lacked structure and safety, but it taught me how to feel deeply, be empathetic and open minded, how to love hard, and how to keep going.

I’m using that strength now. To heal. To help. To become more myself.

And if you’re still here, still trying, that’s your strength too.

Burnout: A Personal Reflection and a Path Towards Healing

Burnout can manifest in both emotional and physical ways, and it looks different for everyone. For me, it stemmed from a prolonged period of distressing life events. I tried to carry on as if everything was normal, but eventually, I crashed. Everyday tasks that once felt easy became overwhelming. I struggled to care for myself. It was debilitating. I felt ashamed but I also hid it.

This experience forced me to reassess my life, my limits, and my priorities. Recovery wasn’t instant. Even as I write this, I’m still healing, but things have improved a lot. Over time, I introduced small habits and routines that helped me regain energy and feel like myself again.

If you’re experiencing burnout, know that things can get better. You are not lazy or a failure, you are human. Burnout is an invitation to pause, reassess, and offer yourself the compassion you’ve long been giving to everything and everyone else.

Recognising the Signs of Burnout

Burnout can creep in slowly. Here are some common signs to look out for:

• Loss of motivation or purpose struggling to find meaning in things that once brought joy.

• Persistent self-doubt a loud inner critic telling you that you're not good enough.

• Emotional and physical exhaustion feeling drained even after rest.

• Difficulty with everyday tasks simple things like cooking, cleaning, or replying to messages feel too much.

• Feelings of helplessness or defeat a sense that things won’t improve.

• Procrastination and avoidance putting things off because they feel too daunting.

• Neglecting self-care letting hygiene, nutrition, and movement fall to the side.

• Withdrawal and isolation pulling away from friends, family, and your support network.

• Difficulty concentrating trouble focusing or remembering things.

• Physical symptoms headaches, muscle tension, sleep issues, or digestive problems.

If several of these resonate with you, it might be time to take a step back and prioritise your well-being.

Suggestions for Burnout Recovery

1. Be Gentle with Yourself

One of the most important things I’ve learned is to stop being so hard on myself. Burnout doesn’t mean you’re weak, it means you’ve been carrying too much for too long.

Create a flexible routine instead of a rigid one. Keep your to-do list short 1–3 manageable tasks per day. If you do more, great. If not, that’s okay too. Progress is still progress.

Let yourself have unstructured time without expectations. Follow what feels good, whether it’s resting, being creative, or going outside. Listen to your body.

Burnout is an emotional and psychological crash. You need rest, stillness, and a feeling of safety to rebuild your foundation.

2. Set Boundaries to Protect Your Energy

A lack of boundaries is a huge contributor to burnout. Learning to protect your time, energy, and mental space is essential for recovery.

At Work:

• Use phrases like:

  • “I can do this, but I’ll need some time.”

  • “I don’t have the capacity for this right now.”

  • “Can someone else on the team help with this?”

• Prioritise: List urgent tasks vs. what can wait. Be realistic.

• Respect your work hours and take your breaks.

• Focus on your strengths. If creativity is your thing but admin drains you, structure your day accordingly.

Reminder: Many workplaces may value you, but you're still replaceable. Your health isn’t. Don’t sacrifice it to prove your worth.

In Relationships:

This applies to friendships, family, romantic partners, and others.

• Say “no” without guilt. You don’t owe lengthy explanations.

• Say: “That doesn’t feel right for me,” or “I can’t commit to that right now.”

• If someone drains you, it’s okay to set space or walk away.

• Journal: Write down what leaves you feeling drained or disrespected, then note how you want to be treated. This helps define your boundaries.

Build a relationship with yourself. Give yourself the love, validation, and kindness you might crave from others. You can show up for yourself, through small acts like buying yourself flowers, taking yourself on solo dates, or simply speaking to yourself gently. This self-connection makes it easier to uphold your boundaries and not settle for less than you deserve and potentially be drained by someone else’s behaviour.

3. Reintroduce Joy and Comfort into Your Life

Burnout can make life feel grey and exhausting. Reconnecting with joy, even in small ways, can be incredibly healing.

Ask yourself: What made me feel alive before? For me, it was moving my body, alone time, creativity, being in nature, and connecting with people I love. I revisited passions from childhood and remembered what makes me, me.

Some simple things to try:

• Spending time in nature (trees, water, sunlight)

• Cuddling a pet

• Listening to music that lifts your mood

• Watching a comfort movie

• Dancing around your room

• Taking a warm bath or doing a skincare routine

Joy won’t return overnight but the tiny moments add up.

4. Let People In

Letting others help me was one of the hardest and most healing parts of recovery. At my lowest, I felt ashamed. But I was often met with unexpected kindness.

You are worthy in all states, even when you're struggling.

Start small: text a friend, talk to someone you trust, or seek professional support like therapy or counselling. You don’t have to do this alone.

Final Thoughts: Healing Takes Time

Recovery from burnout isn’t linear. Some days will be better than others. That’s okay.

Be patient and kind with yourself. Every small step matters. Slowly but surely, you will feel better again.

New Eyes:The Power of Travel

I never travelled abroad growing up. Due to my family circumstances, it just wasn’t an option. My first real taste of travel came during a university trip to Rome, for four days. I experienced something totally different for the first time, and even though it wasn’t until more recently that I began to travel more but that trip opened the door. Since then, I’ve made it a point to see a little more of the world, and each journey has changed me.

Travel, to me, is so much more than reaching a destination. It’s a path to understanding others and rediscovering myself.

Whenever I travel, I try to make it meaningful. I seek out experiences that speak to my soul: spending time in nature, visiting spiritual places, learning about different cultures and people and, of course, enjoying each moment.

A Gift to My Inner Child

Each trip feels like a gift to my younger self. I didn’t grow up traveling, but that never made me less curious or capable. I simply had fewer opportunities. Now, every adventure is something I once only imagined. Bit by bit, my world has opened up.

Travel has been especially meaningful for me as someone with dual nationality. It’s helped me connect more deeply with both sides of my identity and appreciate the cultures I come from. It’s also made me more curious and open to other cultures far beyond my own heritage.

Why This Trip Mattered

A few months ago, in autumn, I visited family in Mexico and the U.S., relatives I’d never met before and then travelled solo through parts of the U.S. and Canada. That trip gave me more than just memories. It:

Forced me into the present

Away from my day-to-day routine, I could finally breathe. I got to be myself and move at my own pace, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Just being present was a relief.

Sparked constant curiosity

Tiny things like unfamiliar foods in supermarkets, fascinated me. Bigger moments like seeing landmarks or talking with strangers, filled me with wonder.

In Mexico, I stayed in an area that isn’t touristy, which gave me a more authentic view of people’s lives. Often, we only hear negative things in the media, but I found warmth, vibrancy, and a rich mix of tradition and modernity. Yes, caution was necessary, but so is nuance and what I saw was beautiful.

In the U.S., I loved the energy, the feeling that anything was possible. There was so much joy and aliveness.

In Canada, I was struck by how polite and helpful everyone was. The people I met seemed genuinely passionate about social justice, which inspired me. I appreciated the chance to learn about their values and initiatives.

Became healing, not just a holiday

I’d been going through a lot before I left, emotionally and mentally. This trip wasn’t just a break, this was time to process.

Hiking through forests and waterfalls in British Columbia and the Pacific Northwest, wandering among cactuses and watching the sunset over Lake Chapala in Mexico all of it helped ground me and felt like the kind of peace you don’t realise you need until you experience it.

There was something about the wild, vast nature in Canada and the U.S. that stirred something in me and connected to something greater.

In Mexico, I happened to visit during preparations for Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), and witnessing it was very moving. Families were building altars for their loved ones, including pets. There was beauty in how death was embraced not feared, but honoured and celebrated.

Connected me to my roots

Meeting my relatives in person filled in the blanks in stories I’d only heard secondhand. There was an instant warmth and familiarity and felt a sense of belonging.

The Transformative Power of Travel

Travel, in any form, has the power to:

• Foster emotional, mental, and spiritual growth

• Challenge your comfort zone

• Build resilience and self-trust

• Encourage creative problem-solving, especially through language and cultural differences

• Shift your perspective on what’s “normal”

• Help you rediscover forgotten parts of yourself

• Introduce new habits, values, and relationships

• Create fun and unforgettable memories, which is priceless

You come home changed. And the transformation often continues long after the trip ends.

Takeaway

Travel taught me that life is magical when you slow down enough to notice and appreciate the little things. Meeting family and spending time alone gave me freedom, perspective, and healing. If you’re considering a trip and it is on your heart, but something is holding you back fear or doubts and you can make it happen, go. You’ll come back changed and richer in ways that go far beyond money.