Been Home For A Few Weeks Now And I’m Feeling Better. It’s Good To Be Back In The Province Vs Living

April 6, 2024

Day 3:

Grief is a relentless companion, haunting every corner of my existence. It lurks in the shadows, waiting to pounce when I least expect it. Today, I found myself reaching for the phone to share a funny anecdote, only to remember that the one I wanted to call is no longer here.

It's in these moments of solitude that grief truly rears its ugly head. The silence is deafening, echoing with memories of happier times. How do you fill the void left behind by someone you loved so deeply?

Sometimes, I feel like I’m living a life I don’t fully deserve. No matter how many achievements I rack up, or how many times people praise my work, there’s this persistent voice in my head whispering that it’s all a fluke. That I don’t belong here. That I’m fooling everyone.

Imposter syndrome is like an unwelcome guest that shows up in the quiet moments, casting doubt on everything I’ve accomplished. It tells me that my success is an accident, that eventually, someone is going to figure out I’m not as capable as I seem. I look at others who seem to move through life with ease, confident and self-assured, and wonder how they do it—how they walk around without the constant fear of being “found out.”

For me, every new challenge feels like a test I might not pass. Even when I’ve prepared, even when I know my stuff, there’s that nagging feeling that somehow, I’m not good enough. The worst part is how easy it is to downplay my own efforts. I’ll tell myself, “It wasn’t that hard,” or, “Anyone could’ve done that,” as if minimizing my work will shield me from the possibility of failure.

But that doesn’t make the fear go away. It just hides it beneath layers of self-doubt. Instead of celebrating my victories, I question them. Instead of owning my success, I attribute it to luck or timing, convinced that at any moment, everything could come crashing down.

The thing is, I know I’m not alone in this feeling. So many of us walk around with this invisible weight, afraid that one wrong step will expose us. But I also know that those feelings aren’t truth—they’re just fear disguised as fact. And though I struggle with it, I’m learning that I don’t have to listen to that voice. I can acknowledge it without letting it dictate how I live.

Because the truth is, I’ve worked hard for what I’ve achieved. I’ve earned my place, even if it doesn’t always feel like it. And just because I grapple with feelings of inadequacy doesn’t mean I am inadequate.

It’s a journey, learning to silence the imposter in my head, but I’m on the path. Every day, I remind myself that I’m not just faking it—I’m showing up, doing the work, and becoming the person I’m meant to be.

I broke my own heart that day.

He was kind. Nice. And I’m sure he’s a great friend. I saw him for the first time today, and I never thought it would be the last time I’d ever see him.

There was something about the way he smiled, the way his voice carried warmth like a quiet melody. It wasn’t a grand moment—no fireworks or fated encounters—just a fleeting interaction that somehow left its mark on me. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

I knew from the beginning that I couldn’t have him, that we were just two strangers passing each other on the street of life. But the heart has a strange way of getting attached to possibilities that never were. It was my own mind weaving stories where none existed, my own emotions building a bridge to nowhere.

And that’s where the heartbreak came. Not from anything he did or said, but from my own actions, my silent hopes. In the end, it was him who chose to walk away, and I, knowing there was no path forward.

But it still stung, that quiet realization: I had broken my own heart, in a moment that no one else would ever know existed.

Is Happiness an End Goal or Simply a By-Product of Other Things?

Happiness is a concept that has puzzled philosophers, scientists, and everyday people for centuries. We often hear about the pursuit of happiness, as if it's the ultimate end goal of life. But is happiness really something we should strive for directly, or is it more of a by-product of other pursuits and experiences? Some people believe that happiness should be the ultimate goal in life. They argue that everything we do, whether it’s working hard, building relationships, or pursuing hobbies, is ultimately driven by the desire to be happy. From this perspective, happiness is seen as the final destination. We set goals, achieve them, and then experience happiness as a reward. For many, this direct pursuit of happiness involves focusing on positive thinking, mindfulness, and self-care, all aimed at creating a state of well-being.

On the other hand, there is a growing belief that happiness is not something we can achieve by directly aiming for it. Instead, it’s a by-product of other activities and pursuits. According to this view, when we focus too much on trying to be happy, it can actually make us feel more stressed and less satisfied. Instead, happiness often comes from living a meaningful life, engaging in activities we are passionate about, and building strong relationships. When we immerse ourselves in things we love and care about, happiness naturally follows.

There’s also the idea that happiness is fleeting and dependent on various factors outside our control. Life is full of ups and downs, and it’s unrealistic to expect constant happiness. Instead of chasing an elusive state of perpetual happiness, some suggest focusing on building resilience and finding joy in small moments. This approach acknowledges that while we may not always be happy, we can cultivate a sense of contentment and gratitude that helps us navigate life’s challenges.

In my opinion, happiness is more likely to be a by-product of other things rather than an end goal. When we shift our focus from trying to be happy to engaging in meaningful activities, building strong relationships, and pursuing our passions, we often find that happiness naturally follows. It’s about finding joy in the journey, not just the destination. By living authentically and embracing the present moment, we can experience a deeper, more lasting sense of fulfillment and happiness. Ultimately, whether happiness is seen as an end goal or a by-product may depend on personal perspective and life experiences. What’s important is to find a balance that works for us individually, allowing us to live a fulfilling and joyful life.

I thought I was ok. Then he suddenly crossed my mind. I kept crying again. So I stood up, looked in the mirror and remembered the way he made me feel—that I wasn't worth the wait.

"The two most powerful warriors are patience and time." - Leo Tolstoy

The restaurant was charming, the kind of place you’d only stumble upon if you knew exactly where to look. Warm lights cast a soft glow over the table, and the hum of quiet conversation filled the space. We had been talking about everything—our favorite places to visit, the movies that shaped us, even our love-hate relationship with dating apps. It was one of those nights where everything felt easy. Until the food arrived.

The waiter approached, carefully setting a large, beautifully arranged seafood platter between us. Shrimp, mussels, oysters—the works. The kind of dish that would impress any other date. But for me? It was like watching a horror show unfold in slow motion.

I froze, staring at the plate as my stomach sank. The last time I’d come into contact with seafood, I ended up in the hospital, my throat closing before I could even realize what was happening. The mere sight of it was enough to send my heart racing.

“Everything alright?” he asked, noticing my hesitation.

I glanced up, not wanting to make a scene, but there was no avoiding it.

“Uh… I’m actually allergic to seafood,” I said, my voice quieter than usual.

His eyes widened in shock, and for a split second, I saw the panic flash across his face.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he said, his hand immediately going to his forehead like he couldn’t believe his own mistake. “I didn’t even think to ask. I swear I’ll double-check next time!”

I couldn’t help but smile, even as the waiter, who overheard, swiftly took the plate away to replace it with something less life-threatening.

“It’s okay,” I replied, waving it off, though I couldn’t quite hide the nervous laugh that followed. “Happens more often than you’d think.”

He looked relieved, but the guilt still hung in the air. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, his expression sincere.

“No, really, that’s on me. I should’ve asked. I don’t want to accidentally kill you on a first date,” he said with a grin, though the joke barely masked his embarrassment.

I laughed, the tension breaking a little more. “Yeah, that would definitely put a damper on things.”

As we waited for the replacement dish, the conversation flowed again, though with a few seafood-related jokes sprinkled in.

“I’ll be sure to stay far away from shellfish from now on,” he added with a sheepish smile. “You’ve made me rethink my entire seafood-loving existence.”

“Well,” I said, “at least you’ll never forget this date.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No chance. Next time, I’m asking about everything. I’m talking allergies, preferences, zodiac signs—whatever I need to know to avoid another seafood disaster.”

I couldn’t help but be charmed by how quickly he turned the situation around. It wasn’t just that he apologized; it was that he genuinely cared. He wasn’t trying to brush it off or make me feel like I was overreacting. He was thoughtful, and the way he handled it—so effortlessly kind—was something I didn’t expect but appreciated more than I could say.

As the night went on, it became less about the seafood mishap and more about how we laughed through it. That small moment could’ve been awkward or embarrassing, but instead, it brought us closer. His genuine concern and the way he quickly promised to do better next time told me a lot about who he was.

When the new dish finally arrived—this time a seafood-free option—he grinned. “Now, how’s that for a safer choice?”

I smiled back. “Perfect."

The night wrapped up, and as we left the restaurant, the cool breeze brushing past us, I found myself thinking about how one small mistake revealed so much about someone’s character. It wasn’t about avoiding errors or being perfect; it was about how we handle those little bumps along the way.

As we said goodnight, he leaned in and said, “Next time, it’s on me. And I promise, no seafood.”

“Deal,” I said, laughing. “Just steer clear of lobsters, okay?”

We parted ways, and as I walked home, I realized something. It wasn’t the flawless date that stuck with me—it was the way he turned a near disaster into something that felt like the beginning of something real. A small mistake, yes, but one handled with so much care that I couldn’t help but look forward to whatever came next.

February 16, 2024

I find myself feeling a bit bored and lonely lately. It seems like work has taken over most aspects of my life, and I often crave some time alone to reset and find a sense of peace. Moving on from a heartbreak has proven to be quite challenging, and I genuinely wish no one had to endure the pain that comes with it. It's a difficult emotion to navigate, and sometimes it feels easier to succumb to it rather than fighting against it because it demands to be felt.

Love, as beautiful as it can be, sometimes has an expiration date. There are moments when you're overflowing with love for someone, only to wake up one day realizing that the feelings have changed. It's a tough position to be in, and as one-half of the relationship, letting go becomes the only viable option when it becomes one-sided.

Reflecting on being single, I wonder if it's a stroke of luck. In this state, you can avoid the potential heartache and solely focus on caring for yourself. Enjoying your own company becomes a gift, especially when friends are occupied with their own lives. It's liberating not to worry about upsetting someone just because you didn't get back to their messages. On the other hand, while it can feel lonely at times, I understand that people have their own lives and priorities, and I respect that.

Surprisingly, the highlight of my days is conversing with my therapist. It struck me as amusing that lonely individuals seek solace in paying therapists to listen, and I find myself falling into that category. Loneliness is a challenging emotion, and having someone to talk to about it has become a source of comfort for me.

8 Things You Unconsciously Do When Depressed 

Feeling queasy.