Ever suffered a mental health disruption?

I’ve had this little blog sitting in the background for a while. Honestly, I hesitated to write and post it because I was embarrassed. But that mindset doesn’t serve the goal I’m trying to achieve for The Grind Gang at all!

What’s that goal? To make us all in the thick of the grind feel less alone.

When you’re deep in the grind, there’s rarely time to pause, reflect, or acknowledge what’s really going on. The grind looks different for all of us—maybe you’re running kids around for sports, school, and social events. Maybe you’re working massive hours, chasing career success, or juggling a business while trying to stay healthy. Whatever it looks like, it can feel isolating.

For those who know me, you’ll know I’ve been open about my struggles with mental health. I’ve seen it impact my family and close friends—some of whom didn’t survive. Mental health struggles can feel relentless, like a weight that never lifts.

Then, about a year ago, I heard someone refer to their mental health struggles as a mental health disruption. And wow—did that change my perspective. Before that, I assumed anxiety and depression were just permanent fixtures in my life. Who would have thought you could put a timeframe on it? I never did.

Now, when I face mental health struggles, I remind myself: this is temporary, I can work through this. This is just a disruption. I don’t want to sound preachy—because I know when you’re in the thick of it, it’s hard to tell yourself it’s temporary. But truly, this is not your forever.

Mental health disruptions can be triggered by events—or sometimes, they seem to come out of nowhere. One of my worst disruptions came from a toxic work environment. My direct manager had a brutal feedback style, the business was losing clients, and the pressure to build a solution to massive problems—something that was not a one-person job—fell on me. I raised concerns, including potential legal risks, but instead of support, I was met with disdain. One day, I even arrived at work to find my desk dismantled, leaving me nowhere to sit. That experience crushed me.

Shortly after, I started a new job while still battling that disruption. It was rough—crippling anxiety attacks, sneaking out for walks, hiding in the bathroom. And through it all, I had to prove myself. I felt like I failed at everything. It was embarrassing.

But here’s the part that gets better—I recently ran into a former colleague from that job. I actively chose to go up and say hello. She was delightful and chatty, and guess what? The sky didn’t fall in. For the longest time, I had been ashamed to run into anyone from that period of my life. But in that moment, I realised I had wasted so much energy worrying. I can’t control what people think of me—but I do know now that embarrassment is an emotion I can overcome.

I walked away from that interaction feeling proud, like I could take on anything that day.

I wish that feeling for anyone who’s ever felt ashamed of their struggles. You are wonderful, strong, and a good person.

And here’s the best part—I’m in a completely different place now. I’ve built a life that excites me, filled with challenges that fuel my growth rather than drain me. The Grind Lyfe is thriving, I’m chasing goals that align with my purpose, and most importantly, I’m surrounded by people who lift me up. I no longer let past struggles define me—they are simply part of the journey that has made me stronger.

I don’t know who first used the term mental health disruption, but thank you. It changed the way I see my own journey, and maybe it can help someone else too.

If you ever need a friendly ear, I’m here. I’m not a mental health professional, but I do know some great avenues for support and can point you in the right direction.

Keep Grinding,

B-Glow xx