Originally posted June 7, 2017 on the previous Little Mountains Blog website.
Little Mountains is a funny name, right? Do those even exist, mountains that aren’t almost entirely too big to conquer?
This name came to me in the middle of writing a piece for this blog, which, primarily, is going to be an outlet for writing about my anxiety. To me, the juxtaposition of “little mountains” describes anxiety perfectly – some moments feel ginormous, feel heavy, feel like they’ll never go away. Some moments feel small, feel victorious, feel like conquering. And to those without anxiety, or those whose anxiety manifests itself differently, your big ol’ mountain may look like a molehill. And in turn, your molehill may look like their mountain.
I was diagnosed with anxiety when I was 18 years old, but I can’t remember a time when my mind wasn’t a whirlpool of “what ifs,” worst case scenarios, and needing to know every little detail. This is just the edge of what my anxiety looks like, and I’m both anxious (ha) and excited to finally have a place to explore this piece of myself.
I will write about other things. I will take advantage of this space to explore my opinions, what inspires me, lessons I’ve learned and lessons I’m still learning. But the driving force behind this project is to face my anxiety head-on for the first time in my life, scared to death or not.
I’m doing this because I have to. Because I’ve been sitting with this piece of myself for too long, silently or in quiet murmurs barely loud enough to make a sound wave. It’s my time to make waves. And it’s my time to move mountains.
Please, follow along if you’d like. I’d love to have you. I hope something here makes your heart say “me, too” or helps you to understand someone else in your life a little better. We’re all part of a bigger conversation on mental health, it only depends on whether or not we use our voice.
So here it goes, here I am, finally using mine.