New beginnings: Learning to Mourn and Move Forward

 

One of the hardest parts of the rediscovery phase is learning to mourn and move forward. With everything in life, there’s this linear manual of continuous progression, but grief and growth? It’s an endless cycle.

Some days grief looks like changing your hair or watching Insecure for the 50th time. Other times, it’s silent, and to everyone else, it may seem like you’re not grieving at all. Yet, somehow, while you’re mourning, the world keeps moving.

We do everything to replace the pain, but the reality is the only way through it is through it. The journey is figuring out what “finding your way through it” looks like.

While we’re in this new era of moving forward, I sometimes look back and think, “WTF was that?” The past 8+ years made it loud and clear that I had been running—from myself, my potential, my childhood. Always searching for uniqueness, fulfillment, intensity, and a reason to feel connected outside of myself.

Even though I’ve molted the skin of the girl I used to be, I’m still in the process of healing. Pieces of her skeleton still hide in my closet. I still have wounds to heal, emotional ties to release, and mistakes to forgive myself for. I’m still learning to be self-compassionate, releasing the shame and guilt from accepting things I thought I deserved because I didn’t feel like I was enough.

I had been pushing through for so many years, I didn’t realize that this mindset of resilience or survival mode was part of my downfall. I was moving from phase to phase without truly releasing emotions. I wasn’t present. I was surviving, not living.

After all the running, I hit a wall and in 2020, I had reached my breaking point. Right before the pandemic, I had a major mental breakdown and was diagnosed with bipolar/schizoaffective disorder and forced to move to the place I'd been running from—home. 

After years of chasing the next accomplishment, striving for grades, organizations, and leadership titles—Suddenly, I had an epiphany.  I realized that I had been using busyness as a coping mechanism, running from my pain and myself.

Having to withdraw from school, I felt like I failed.  I was mad at God, mad at myself, mad at everything. After being admitted to 4 hospitals and relearning cognitive skills, I had to confront what I had been avoidingand come to acceptance that the girl I once was was gone.

I was mourning the loss of my old self. I was angry about my psychosis and how it changed me—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I was angry at the weight I gained, at the medicines with side effects that stunted my growth, and most of all, I was mad at God for putting me through this.

But in hindsight, I realize I wouldn’t have taken a break if He hadn’t forced me to stop. I was moving too fast. I had reached my capacity. The biggest lesson I’ve learned is to take things slowly.

As I grieve the person I used to be, I’m also learning to forgive myself for everything I did in survival mode. Forgiving myself for what I allowed, for the things I couldn’t control, and for not being the person I once was. It’s a process, but it’s necessary for my growth.

In this society, we’re constantly told to go and push through, but rest is just as important. The tortoise won the race, not because he rushed but because he had faith in his timing. Sometimes, we need isolation to slow down and truly heal so we can arrive at our next destination, ready to bask in our victory.

So as we wrap up the year, I encourage you to grieve. Write a letter to your younger self. Make a collage of your darkest moments and burn it. Book that therapy session. Revisit that playlist from 2015. Cry if you need to. Because grief isn’t just about loss; it’s about love preserving.

At the end of the day, we’re all navigating our own journeys of growth and healing, and it’s not always pretty.  Numbing and trying to avoid the hurt may seem to "work" now but that’s not where true healing lives. Burnout, chasing perfection, avoiding healing, and suppressing grief? All against my soul.

This journey requires facing the hard truths and embracing the fullness of who we are—flaws, scars, and all. In the end, it’s only through acceptance, self-compassion, and making room for God’s work that we can truly grow into who we’re meant to be.

It’s been a while, but Antisoulcial is FINALLY here—and we’re not just a brand, we’re a movement. This space is for anyone who's ready to break free from the cycles of survival and step into a life of true living. We’re here to challenge the norms, reclaim our time, and build a community where healing, self-discovery, and creative expression are everything. We're all about embracing the messy middle of growth, releasing shame, and finding strength in vulnerability. Join us as we continue to walk through it all, together.