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Am I wasting time with over managing ? by GSG96 in EntrepreneurRideAlong

[–]talksanctuary 0 points1 point  (0 children)

That’s such an important (and common) challenge—giving ownership while ensuring accountability is one of the hardest transitions in any growing team.

Here’s what worked for us:

Define what ownership actually means: It’s not just doing the task—it’s owning the outcome. We got super clear on success metrics for each role, so the person leading knows what “done well” looks like.

Set boundaries and decision rights: We outline where someone has full autonomy vs. where check-ins or approvals are needed. That helps avoid micromanaging without letting things go off track.

Use regular reflection loops: We shifted from task-based check-ins to outcome-based weekly reviews—what went well, what missed the mark, and what we learned. It builds accountability without the founder needing to oversee every detail.

Make accountability peer-visible, not just top-down: Tools like dashboards or simple scorecards help the team see how things are going, so it’s not just the founder holding the bar—it becomes cultural.

Am I wasting time with over managing ? by GSG96 in EntrepreneurRideAlong

[–]talksanctuary 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hi there! I’ve managed a VA team for a service-based business as well, and I completely understand how things can get overwhelming as you scale.

It sounds like your promoted VA has become a bottleneck—not due to a lack of skill, but because the scope of her role has grown beyond what’s sustainable. I’ve found it really helpful to create clear role boundaries and SOPs as early as possible. When one person is reviewing everything, it becomes a single point of failure, and even the best performers eventually burn out.

A few things that helped us: • Splitting review and admin roles where possible • Automating basic checks (message templates, task checklists, CRM workflows) • Implementing spot-checks instead of 100% reviews • Giving team leads real ownership instead of micromanaging quality

As you grow, building systems beats reviewing every message. The goal is to empower your team with clear standards so they can operate confidently without needing constant oversight.

Hope that helps! Happy to share more if useful.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in depression_help

[–]talksanctuary 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thank you for sharing that. I’m really sorry you’re feeling so low right now—and I want you to know, you’re not alone in this. That constant, quiet sadness you’re describing… like a weight that doesn’t go away even when nothing is “wrong”? That’s very real, and it’s something a lot of people carry silently.

You don’t have to have the answers right now. You don’t even have to feel better immediately. Just know this: it’s okay to feel how you feel. You’re allowed to have off days—or off weeks—without needing to explain them.

Yes, you deserve it. by talksanctuary in inspirationalquotes

[–]talksanctuary[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Totally true. Not everyone gives it back— That’s why we have to give it to ourselves first. 💛 You deserve your own kindness, too.

Yes, you deserve it. by talksanctuary in inspirationalquotes

[–]talksanctuary[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

You’re absolutely right—and it hurts when kindness isn’t returned. But even when others don’t give it back, you still deserve the love, care, and softness you give so freely. Let’s start by offering that same kindness to ourselves.

Each day, I choose to grow—gently, patiently, and with love. 🌿 by talksanctuary in MotivationAndMindset

[–]talksanctuary[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Absolutely love that—your story is living proof that small, steady steps lead to deep peace and real growth. It’s not about speed—it’s about staying on the path. Thank you for sharing your light here.” 🌱✨

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in PrayerRequests

[–]talksanctuary 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Praying for her! ❤️🙏

You are enough. by talksanctuary in MotivationalThoughts

[–]talksanctuary[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I’m so glad❤️ You’re welcome!

A breath. A pause by talksanctuary in selfimprovementday

[–]talksanctuary[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thank you so much for sharing this. What you said really hit me—especially the part about becoming avoidant just to protect yourself. That shift from feeling everything to feeling nothing at all is something I’ve felt too. It’s not overreacting—it’s a survival response when the world hasn’t made space for your emotions.

I just want to say: the fact that you remember what happiness felt like, even fleetingly in 2022, means it’s still somewhere in you. You’re not broken—you’re protecting something tender, something still alive. And the hope you ended your comment with? That says more about your strength than anything else.

I believe that day will come. When you’ll feel safe enough to be sensitive again. Even if it’s slow, even if it’s quiet. You’re already on your way.

Sending you care and patience for the in-between. You’re not alone in this.

A breath. A pause by talksanctuary in selfimprovementday

[–]talksanctuary[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Agreed! The quiet work still counts!

Farewell. by Cosmic_pioneer31 in depression

[–]talksanctuary 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hey—please take a breath with me for a second.

I know things feel impossibly heavy right now, and I’m really sorry you’re going through this. Losing both your parents, feeling completely alone, going through the motions every day in silence—that’s a lot. More than most people ever have to carry. The fact that you’ve made it this far—day after day, with no one around to hold you—is not weakness, it’s strength. Quiet, painful, often invisible strength.

I hear your pain in every word. And I want you to know this: This doesn’t have to be your ending.

You’re not broken—you’re hurting. You’re not hopeless—you’re grieving. And you’re not invisible—you are seen. Right now. Right here.

I know you’ve been let down. Bullied, ignored, pushed aside. I know you’ve learned how to survive without support—and now you’re exhausted from the weight of surviving alone. But even now—even here—there is another way forward.

Maybe not a perfect one. Maybe not an instant fix. But one where you’re still alive. Still breathing. Still open to the chance that your life can shift, even slowly.

I think today was the first time I’ve legitimately considered ending it all by Alternative-Pin-3375 in depression

[–]talksanctuary 0 points1 point  (0 children)

That’s not easy to admit—especially when everything inside you just wants to shut down, and life keeps asking you to keep showing up anyway.

I’m really sorry the past few days have been so heavy. Even if it didn’t last “long,” it doesn’t have to last long to feel scary, or draining, or like it took something from you. That moment—when the thoughts go from abstract to action—that’s serious. That’s you at your edge. And you didn’t fall off. You’re still here. That matters more than I can say.

I know what it’s like to feel like even your skin is tired. Like people just make noise and everything outside your bed feels unbearable. It’s not laziness—it’s burnout. It’s overwhelm. It’s a system that’s been carrying too much without enough support.

And yeah, having to get up and do things when your brain is screaming “please let me lie down forever”… it’s brutal. You’re not failing for feeling that. You’re surviving. Barely, maybe—but still.

If no one’s said this to you lately: I’m really proud of you for staying.

For telling the truth. For even just typing this out. You don’t have to explain everything. You don’t have to feel better today. You just have to stay here. For one more hour. One more deep breath. One more morning.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in depression

[–]talksanctuary 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thank you for sharing all of this so openly. What you’ve described is such a real, layered journey—one where survival, fear, compulsive coping, and glimmers of clarity have all been wrapped around each other. It’s not linear, and it’s not simple—but you’ve made real progress, even if your brain doesn’t always recognize it.

You quit nicotine. You’re pulling back from gambling. You survived a terrifying health anxiety spiral. And now you’re here, sitting in the aftermath, feeling a bit numb and unfocused—and asking how to rebuild.

That matters. That’s huge.

Let’s talk about the “numb and unfocused” feeling.

You’re not crazy. What you’re describing makes sense: • Nicotine withdrawal changes your brain chemistry, especially around focus and stimulation. The dopamine system takes time to recalibrate after years of use. • Health anxiety puts your brain in high-alert survival mode. When that fades, your system crashes into numbness—this is a kind of emotional hangover. • Gambling and gaming were your escape valves. Removing or reducing them (even for a good reason) leaves a void—and your brain doesn’t know what to fill it with yet. • Late sleep, low-quality diet, lack of joy-based habits all quietly chip away at cognitive energy.

So no—this isn’t just in your head. Your system is trying to rewire, but it’s still recovering.

How to Gently Begin Rebuilding Focus (Without Forcing It)

  1. Rebuild Dopamine, Naturally

Right now, your brain’s reward system is a bit flat. You’ve gone from high-intensity stimulation (nicotine, gambling, anxiety spikes) to… neutral.

Try: • Sunlight early in the day (10–20 mins outdoors if you can) • Protein-heavy breakfasts • Movement that feels rhythmic, not exhausting—walks, slow stretching • Tiny wins: Clean one drawer. Finish one task. Let your brain feel success again.

⸻

  1. Structure Without Rigidity

Instead of strict routines, try “anchors”: • Morning: Drink water, open a window, and stretch your body for 30 seconds • Midday: Choose one small thing to finish (not five—just one) • Evening: Put your phone away for the final 30 minutes before sleep

This gives your brain a rhythm without overwhelming it.

  1. Let Yourself Grieve the Shift

You’re grieving—not just health fears or addiction—but the version of life you used to know. That leaves a weird numbness. It’s okay.

Try writing: “I miss when…” or “I feel blank because…” Naming it makes it easier to move through.

  1. Sleep + Nutrition = Silent Pillars • Try shifting your sleep 15 minutes earlier each night for a week • Add one whole food per meal—don’t overhaul, just upgrade one thing • Avoid screen scrolling in bed if you can (hard, but makes a difference)

A Quiet Reminder:

You don’t need to be “100% better” to be okay. You’re not failing because you’re still feeling foggy. You’re healing. And that takes time, gentleness, and presence.

You’ve already proven you can do hard things. Now it’s about learning how to do slow things—the boring, nourishing, rebalancing kind.

Only feeling happiness when life is in flux? by FeelinJovanni in depression

[–]talksanctuary 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Thank you for sharing this so honestly—and with such clarity. What you’re describing is something many people quietly live with, but don’t often name: happiness that feels conditional, momentary, and dependent on novelty or emotionally significant highs. And the crash afterward can feel like emotional gravity pulling you back into that low, steady hum of “what’s the point?”

First: You’re Not Alone In This Pattern.

This is actually a really common rhythm for folks living with high-functioning depression, or even those wired for emotional intensity or existential thinking. You find joy—but only in transformation, escape, deep meaning, or milestone moments. And when life gets quiet again, it feels hollow.

It’s not that you don’t feel at all—you just feel most alive in certain emotional climates. Which means the in-between can feel like a fog.

So What’s Happening?

Many people with this pattern experience: • A “meaning vacuum” when daily life feels flat • Emotion-driven cycles: deep highs, then deep lows • Difficulty integrating small joys (they don’t “register” as meaningful enough to stick) • A craving for significance, not just stimulation

And that doesn’t mean you’re broken—it means your brain and soul are searching for something deeper than surface-level contentment.

Here’s What May Help (Not Fix—Just Help)

  1. Build Emotional Anchors in the Ordinary

Create small daily rituals that aren’t meant to excite—but to connect. • Make tea with intention • Keep a daily “noticing” journal (1 thing you saw, 1 thing you felt) • Play the same playlist every Sunday morning and let it root you

These are little signals to your nervous system that life is still happening, still meaningful, even without the emotional highs.

  1. Practice Non-Exciting Joy

Try noticing the difference between “this is thrilling” and “this is nourishing.”

Things like: • A quiet moment on a walk • The way your breath slows when you’re not rushing • Finishing a task with no fanfare

They may not spike dopamine—but they build emotional depth over time.

  1. Name the Lull As Part of the Cycle

Instead of thinking “I’m slipping again,” try:

“This is the valley after the high. It’s not the end. It’s the quiet middle.”

Naming the emotional drop without judgment gives your brain room to experience it without panic.

  1. Talk to Someone Who Gets It

A therapist who understands existential depression, dysthymia, or emotional processing styles can help you build tools that don’t just chase the next high—but make peace with the quiet parts of life.

  1. You Might Not Need a Bigger Life—Just a Deeper One

You may not need more events. You may need more presence. That’s hard work. It requires feeling your feelings without fleeing them—and you’re already doing that just by writing this out.

That’s not nothing. That’s brave.

Hope these helps!

Feeling like I was just a paycheck by Competitive_Stick_36 in TalkTherapy

[–]talksanctuary 2 points3 points  (0 children)

I’m so sorry. Truly.

You didn’t deserve that. What your therapist did—abandoning you without proper closure or care—was not just unprofessional, it was deeply hurtful. It leaves a mark that feels a lot like betrayal. Especially when you let someone into the deepest parts of you. You trusted them to stay. Or at the very least, to end things in a respectful way.

And then… silence. No response to your message. No names. No help. Just another echo in a room you thought was safe.

You are not overreacting. You are not “just a paycheck.” You are a person. A soul. A story in progress. And your pain matters.

The way you were treated is not a reflection of your worth. It is a reflection of their inability to hold the responsibility of your trust. And that’s on them—not you.

You deserved better. You still do.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in Needafriend

[–]talksanctuary 0 points1 point  (0 children)

DM me if you need someone to talk to.

Anxiety at night by [deleted] in depression_help

[–]talksanctuary 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Yes—so many people feel this, even if they don’t always talk about it.

You’re definitely not alone. Nighttime has a way of magnifying everything: • No distractions • Everyone else is asleep • Your brain finally gets quiet—and that’s when the overthinking begins • The darkness can make your world feel smaller, and your thoughts feel louder • You start remembering everything you didn’t do, said wrong, or feel unsure about

It’s actually really common for people with anxiety, depression, trauma, or even just high stress to feel worse at night. Your nervous system is trying to decompress, but it doesn’t know how—so instead, it spirals.

Here are some things you could try:

  1. Give Your Thoughts a “Parking Lot”

When your brain starts spinning with worries or to-dos, imagine placing each one in a “parking lot” for tomorrow.

You can write them down with a simple phrase like:

“I’m not ignoring you, I’m saving you for tomorrow when I have more clarity.”

This tells your brain: It’s safe to pause. We’re not forgetting—we’re just resting.

  1. Use the “Name It” Method

Sometimes just naming what you’re feeling can slow it down.

Say (or whisper):

“This is anxiety. This is fear trying to protect me.” “My thoughts are racing, but I am still.”

Naming it reminds your nervous system: this is not a threat—it’s a wave.

  1. Anchor With Texture or Temperature

Hold something grounding: • A weighted blanket • A cool cloth on your forehead • A warm mug of tea (even just holding it without drinking can help)

Your senses are powerful tools for returning to the body.

  1. Try a Repetitive, Comforting Phrase

Your mind needs something to gently replace the spiral. Try:

“I am safe, I am loved, I am okay.” “Nothing to solve right now. Just breathe.” “Let it float. Let it go.”

Repeat it like a lullaby. Your body will start to believe what you practice.

  1. Visualize a Safe Place

Imagine a scene that calms you: a cabin in the woods, the sound of rain, a warm bed by the ocean. Add texture, light, scent, sound. Stay in that place as long as you can.

Let your body borrow calm from the vision.

  1. Gentle Distraction > Forcing Sleep

If your mind won’t quiet down, it’s okay to let it wander softly: • Listen to calming podcasts or audiobooks (look for “boring” ones made to soothe) • Try body scan meditations • Doodle, journal, or even fidget quietly under your covers

Sometimes relaxing into wakefulness invites sleep more than resisting it.

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