How struggling with my mental health led me to my dream job.

Mental health... It's nearly become a buzzword.

A way to virtue signal on social media or a filler word used by employers to look good when advertising a new job.

But if you're like me, mental health runs far deeper than a buzzword. I'd like to share with you a snippet of what life was like for me around a year ago. A snippet of someone who was struggling so much with her mental health, but couldn't find the help she needed.

I am a snake, shedding her skin.

I am the moon, at the end of her cycle.

I am me, yet I barely recognise my reflection.

This year, I have lived through the beginning of a transformation. A messy, complicated, anxiety-ridden phase of growth. Throughout my adult life, I have been so focused on the growth of my career, my social circle, my travel bucket list and my bank account. My most recent lesson has been one that has stopped me in my tracks; I have neglected the growth of my mind.

I nostalgically look back on my years of being the light of the room, the life of the party and a leader. I reminisce on my fearless attitude. The girl never seen without an ear to ear smile, dancing on bars and sailing on boats across the Adriatic. I remember all of this on the floor of the shower, where my tears effortlessly blend with the disappearing water. Vanishing down the plughole, along with any hope of ever being that girl again.

I dug the deepest hole that I could, and buried my trauma within the darkness. I covered it so well that I had everyone fooled, including myself. I thought I had found a shortcut, a jackpot, a byway to being whole and healed. I thought that by denying my reality I wouldn't need to ever face it. I thought that I was tough enough to do this on my own. I thought that I was okay.

I now can see, I was wrong.

My new reality is one that I could have never dreamed would be me. The new me is someone that has a panic attack before her therapy session. The new me is unable to breathe through the anxiety of seeing a group of friends on the weekend. The new me is someone who cries, alot. The new me is triggered by everyday things that seemed previously insignificant; like the man in front of me at the supermarket who has strong, rough hands. The new me is living in a state of fear. The new me needs escape plans in social situations. The new me has taken over and I feel like I am a shell of my former self.

Trauma has no sense of time. Now that I am unpacking her, she feels blistering hot and too bright to look at. Every part of my being wants to run in the other direction and go back to a life where she was buried and dormant.

I remind myself that everything is temporary and that nothing good comes easy. I tell myself that I will be okay and one day I will look back on this period with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

I have days where I feel downright embarrassed that my confidence has been so knocked that I can't go to the shops alone. I find myself saying "sorry" way more than I should and feeling like a burden. It's rare for my mind to not be running at a million miles an hour, cloudy yet chaotic. It's harder to get out of bed in the mornings and it's harder to be around people.

But I am slowly learning to have grace with myself because there is no denying this process is hard.

I don't want attention, sympathy or pity. I want to put a voice to a journey that so many others are going through in solidarity and in silence. There is a massive stigma associated with going to therapy. It's not cool to openly show emotion or cry or take a mental health day. Uncomfortable conversations are avoided like the plague because we've become so obsessed with maintaining a perfect image so that we don't rock the boat.

We paint layers of make-up, botox, drink, drugs, sex and fake relationships over our skeleton so that others can't see that at our core, we're a struggling human being.

It keeps me up at night imagining the world our children will grow up in. As a society, we already live our life through a 5" screen, moving further and further away from living in the present. We consider connection a red notification saying that someone liked your post. And we think community is how many followers we have on Instagram.

Whilst on one hand, I'm excited for the future, a big part of me feels anxiety over not doing enough to make it a better, safer, healthier place.

What would be the point of being here if not to leave our world in a better condition than how we found it?

I'm choosing to normalise the admission of vulnerability. I'm choosing to accept that whilst I don't have the answers to everything, ignorant bliss is not an excuse for turning a blind eye to what is happening underneath our noses.

I am a snake shedding her skin. And what comes next is still uncertain.

Fast forward to today.

I'm back in therapy. I'm dealing with my trauma. I'm handling conflict much better. I'm becoming more confident in setting boundaries. I'm happier than I have maybe ever been. I'm entirely unashamed to say- I work every single day on my mental health.

And, I'm also working on something that I, quite frankly, adore.

I somewhat serendipitously came across Bravely in August. Like so many facing uncertainties throughout the pandemic, it was at a time I really wasn't sure what was coming next. I hopped on a call with Bravely's co-founder, Mel, and after two and a half hours of non-stop conversation, realized I'd stumbled across something incredibly rare.

I wasn't looking for a job. And Bravely wasn't really hiring. But it was so clear that we were a good fit for each other. A few weeks later, I signed my contract and was officially a part of the Bravely team (and what a team they are!!!!).

Bravely is built by a small but determined team of psychologists, therapists, designers and developers who all know what it's like to struggle with their mental health. I think this is the difference. It's built by people who have walked the long, lonely, expensive, intimidating road to a happier mind.

For us, it's still very early days. The goal to bring better mental health to the world is a lofty one indeed, sometimes it even feels unreachable. But when I look around me, and see nearly not a single person who isn't struggling to some degree, it's plainly obvious that a solution is needed. Not just for me, but for everyone.

Bravely is the tool I wish I had at the beginning of my mental health journey. It's grounded in science, yet is holistic. You won't find cheesy quotes or fluffy advice. It's created by experts and academics but transformed into easy reading for real, ordinary people. It's breaking down the brick wall which usually stands between everyday folk and better mental health.

It's an understatement to say that we're incredibly determined to bring our vision to life - to make mental health accessible for everyone. I'm very proud to say that we're now officially live, and better mental health is just a tap away.

I'd love for you to check it out, let me know what you think.

And to finish, if you're struggling too, I want to reiterate something which really got me through my dark period last year:

It will get better.