Emotional wellness is basically the only reason I didn’t yeet my phone into traffic last Tuesday. I’m sitting here in my Denver apartment—wait, is it Thursday now? Whatever—fan still whup-whup-whupping like it’s paid to narrate my anxiety. The mac ‘n’ cheese is cold, the plant (Chad, yes still named after that ex) is dramatic, and I just realized I wore mismatched socks to Target. Again. Emotional wellness for me started when I stopped pretending I had it together and just… admitted I eat feelings.
Why Emotional Wellness Feels Impossible Some Days (Spoiler: It’s Not)
I tried the gratitude thing. Wrote “grateful for coffee” five times then accidentally wrote “grateful I didn’t text him back” and cried into my mug. But like—those dumb little notes? They worked. My therapist says emotional wellnes is built in the cracks, not the highlight reel. So now I leave myself voice memos when I’m not a total disaster. Current record: 52. Three are just me whispering “you’re okay” while hiding in the bathroom at work.
- The 3 a.m. carb confession: Emotional wellnes sometimes means eating directly from the pot. The steam fogs my glasses. I feel human.
- Phone curfew (that I break): Set it for 10 p.m., wake up at 2 a.m. scrolling. Progress, not perfection, right?
Emotional Wellness When Your Brain’s on Fire
It was 70 degrees in November here, which should’ve been great for emotional wellnes but just made me panic about wildfires while walking the dog. I started yeeting my phone across the couch when the news gets bad. The crack in the screen? A trophy. Emotional wellnes: 1, Doomscrolling: 0.
The Target Bathroom Breakdown That Changed Everything
Downloaded a breathing app mid-panic in the Target bathroom—yes, the one by the paper towels that always smells like despair. British lady tells me to “inhale peace” and I’m over here realizing I’ve been clenching my jaw since 2017. Emotional wellnes unlocked: I can unclench. Who knew?
Emotional Wellness Hacks I Swear By (Even When I Don’t Do Them)
Forest bathing gave me poison ivy. Meditation apps? I fall asleep and drool on my phone. These actually stick:
- The unsent text draft: Write the unhinged rant, save it, delete tomorrow. Emotional wellnes through restraint (and mild pettiness).
- Water the damn plant: Chad gets water when I remember I exist. We’re both hanging in there.
- Parking lot therapy: Windows up, scream-sing to Olivia Rodrigo. The Subaru next to me pretends not to notice.
When Emotional Wellness Means Muting the Chaos
That group chat with my high school “friends” who still roast me for crying at graduation? Muted. Deleted. Emotional wellness isn’t always gentle—it’s sometimes a hard boundary with a side of guilt. But the quiet? Chef’s kiss.
Emotional Wellness: Still a Work in Progress (Like Me)
Look, some days emotional wellnes is brushing my hair before 3 p.m. Other days it’s running until my lungs burn and I feel… alive? Weird. Chad’s got new leaves, I haven’t cried in the dairy aisle in two weeks, and I’m writing this at 2:47 a.m. because tomorrow-me needs to know it’s okay to be a mess.
Try one thing. Just one. Text yourself “you’re doing better than you think.” Water something green. Mute the noise. Your brain’s been through it—give it a breather, yeah?
Real talk backed by people who know more than me: NAMI’s emotional wellness tips and this Psychology Today piece on self-compassion. My version’s messier. You’ve been warned.
Outbound Links:
Headspace’s 3-minute SOS breathing exercise – the one that saved me in Target’s bathroom
The Gottman Institute on emotional regulation – nerdy but gold
Verywell Mind’s guide to toxic friendships – for when you finally hit “leave group chat”
