As I sit here writing tonight's blog, the clock reads 9:14 PM. Another day is nearly in the books.
The day has been filled with answering emails, responding to messages, making notes for future videos, and brainstorming new ways to encourage others through my YouTube channel, Facebook page, podcast, and support groups. A large part of my day is spent thinking about how I can make someone's burden a little lighter, offer a little hope, or simply give them a reason to smile.
What most people don't see is the physical and mental toll that comes with it.
Helping others is something I genuinely love to do, but as a brain injury survivor, every conversation, every message, every decision, and every creative idea requires energy. Sometimes more energy than I realize I'm spending.
The funny thing is, I often give advice that I struggle to follow myself.
I know I need to rest. I know I need breaks. I know I need to pace myself.
Then the phone rings.
A message pops up.
Someone needs encouragement.
Someone has a question.
Someone is struggling.
Before I know it, hours have passed and I've once again pushed myself beyond what I should have.
I don't do any of this for praise, recognition, or attention. Those things have never motivated me. In fact, before my brain injury, I was probably one of the shyest people you would have ever met.
The injury changed many things, including my filter.
These days, what you see is what you get. If something is on my mind, chances are I'm going to say it. If you want honesty, ask me. If you're looking for someone to tell you only what you want to hear, I'm probably not your guy.
Lately, I've been realizing that I need to start taking my own advice.
Not every distraction deserves my attention.
Not every notification requires an immediate response.
Not every problem is mine to solve.
If I want to continue helping others, I have to make sure I'm helping myself too.
An engine can only run without oil for so long before it eventually locks up. The same is true for people.
I've spent years encouraging others to practice self-care, set boundaries, and listen to their bodies. Maybe it's time I start listening to my own words.
So that's my goal moving forward: to be more intentional with my time, protect my energy, and remember that taking care of myself isn't selfish—it's necessary.
Tomorrow is another day, and hopefully a better-balanced one.