Tag: Mental Health

Emotional Cartography

Heavy Days: A Spotlight on The Depression Beast

Mell D'Clute
SuperMell moves forward through a foggy landscape symbolizing heavy days, with the Depression Beast quietly following behind and Diana the cat waiting ahead, representing resilience and steady progress.

Progress… and Something Else

Heavy days are difficult to deal with. This week has shown some significant improvements at work. I’m improving my speeds on my tasks, and I’m learning new things. I’m adapting. So… why do I still feel stuck?

In this post, I’m going to dive deep into the very first emotional cartography character I ever created: The Depression Beast.

🐾 Introducing The Depression Beast

For most of my life, I have struggled with depression. I had some rough experiences in my childhood. In an attempt to try to understand it better, I started referring to it as The Depression Beast. It was a way I could separate it from myself.

Initially, I described him as a ferocious beast who liked to sink his claws in me. To me, he felt like a big, scary monster who stalked me constantly. While there would be some battles he would win occasionally, I always thought of it like he just won a battle, not the war.

Now I want to try to understand him, as I’ve done with The Procrastinator, Dr. Anxiety, and Captain Rage. Why does he stalk me so much? Will he ever really go away? Or is there a reason he’s here?

How would I describe him? He’s like a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. He’s big, blue, and has sad eyes. His energy is very subdued, but his mere presence is impactful. He’s not as sharp as Dr. Anxiety, and not as quick as Captain Rage. But he is… heavy.

🧱 What He Feels Like

The Depression Beast feels like he’s constantly there, hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to approach. He’s a little timid, and sometimes I don’t see him coming, as he’s also quite stealthy. But when he shows up, he definitely makes his impression.

Here’s what it feels like to me (it may be different for you):

  • A lack of motivation to complete tasks
  • Difficulty getting started—or even getting up at all
  • Emotional heaviness, where energy and willpower feel drained
  • Not sadness, necessarily, but more like gravity getting heavier

For a couple of shifts at work, I wasn’t working particularly fast as I felt this heaviness come over me. Everything felt like a difficult chore.

At home, I didn’t do much of anything in terms of improving my home base. I couldn’t figure out how to hang command strips up on my walls to hang pictures. That setback pushed me deeper into my depression, so I thought I would start by shifting from Phase 4 to Phase 5 of the organizing my home base project: cleaning. But that so far hasn’t happened.

It feels like The Depression Beast has made his presence known.

⚖️ The Paradox

I made some progress at work. Putting down start and finish times is helping me keep track of how much time I actually spend on some tasks. Also, once a week, I get one-on-one training with a coworker where I can see what he does differently or ask questions about the machines I don’t quite understand. Yesterday near the end of my shift, I had another meeting with the bosses and it went well.

The Depression Beast doesn’t care about this. He’s still listening to the terrible review I had and making me feel like things are hopeless. This is why I’m struggling to get myself up and clean the apartment. That heavy feeling that things are hopeless is weighing me down. And that’s the paradox.

🧠 What He Might Be Doing

Perhaps he’s here to remind me to rest occasionally. Maybe he’s helping me process things and figure out what can be done differently. Then again, maybe he slows me down on purpose so I don’t wind up burning myself out.

As I’ve said, I’ve struggled to understand him most of my life. What does he gain by being here? Who am I without him? Would I even recognize myself if he wasn’t here?

Of course I have tried so many things to try to pull myself out of these funks. So many self-help books are on my bookshelf. I’ve also tried medications, some of which work for awhile. Then I hit a roadblock, like the bad review, and it resets itself.

Am I doomed to feel like this forever?

🧭 What I’m Learning

As a person with ADHD, I also tend to struggle with RSD, or Rejection Sensitivity. It hits me much harder than it should. I do believe it’s tied to my many years of being bullied, and my inability to reconcile with it. Maybe they were right about me… Is there any hope for someone who feels this broken or unworthy?

So it feels like it’s tied into my self-esteem. How do I feel about myself? Why do I take criticism too personally? Does it just keep bringing up these feelings of unworthiness? Hmmm…

I had the best shift yesterday and they noticed. I also noticed. So maybe progress is showing up and trying your best. It doesn’t have to show up everywhere to prove itself. Sometimes it shows up in little steps at a time. One area of improvement is a good thing. It should be telling me I can dig myself out of this hole. Should. So why isn’t it helping?

Life is very much like an ocean. It ebbs and flows, has ups and downs. Sometimes it feels like I never have any ups, but I know that’s not the case. That’s how the Depression Beast likes me to feel. But perhaps he just wants me to take a step back and evaluate what’s most important to me in this moment. Clearly, making progress on my home base wasn’t the most important thing for this week. Maybe it showed itself in my improvements at work, once I was able to buckle down and get it done.

Maybe I’m just too hard on myself…

🐈‍⬛ Diana’s Wisdom

Diana would like to remind me that when she was lost and alone, I came into her life and made her feel like she’s a queen. Which of course she is. I’m the only person she trusts. This has to mean something. There are some good qualities in me, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.

🌅 Final Thought: Heavy, But Moving

Heavy days aren’t easy. They exist for a reason. Sometimes trying to figure out that reason is more than half the battle. I may not have all the answers, or know quite how to pull myself out of this funk, but I know eventually it will subside. The Depression Beast doesn’t always roar into the scene, but he does know when he’s not wanted. Even on the days when I feel stuck, something is still shifting beneath the surface.

How would you describe depression? What do you do to pull yourself out of a bout of depression? Please feel free to share in the comments. I’d love to hear about it. Sometimes it helps knowing you aren’t alone in this battle.

Emotional Cartography

Tomorrow’s Problem: A Spotlight on The Procrastinator

Mell D'Clute
SuperMell stands confidently in her black and purple superhero suit with a stylized “M” on the chest, glowing with breakthrough energy as faint chains of light break behind her. Across the room, The Procrastinator lounges in a comfortable chair wearing casual clothes and scrolling on his phone, surrounded by small distractions and a crumpled to-do list on the floor. Diana, a black cat with golden eyes and a white chest tuft, sits calmly beside SuperMell, watching the scene with quiet focus.

The Voice That Says “Later”

By all accounts, I really should be working on setting up my Creative Studio. Instead, I’m sitting here writing about procrastination. It feels like the task that refuses to go away. I know logically that if I tackle the project with full gusto, I can complete it and move on to phase 4 of the organizing plan. Something seems to be weighing me down. It’s that little voice that says, “that’s tomorrow’s problem…” — the one I apparently keep listening to lately.

Now introducing the spotlight on The Procrastinator.

What The Procrastinator Looks Like

I think anyone with ADHD knows what The Procrastinator looks like. He’s a wild card for a reason. I don’t think of him as a dark presence, per se. He’s more like the inner child who just wants to play instead of doing hard work. His wardrobe looks suspiciously like what I’m wearing today. Old t-shirt, jogging pants, hair barely brushed.

When he decides to show up, you can bet there’s some underlying emotions going on. Sometimes I know what those feelings are. Other times I have no idea what’s going on, but I know there must be a reason he’s here.

Sometimes when I write blog posts, I’m not quite sure what it is I want to write about and just let the brain slowly form sentences and figure out what the point of it is. I do believe this is one of those posts where I feel I need to get something off my chest, but am unsure what that is. Bear with me, if you will.

His Favorite Strategy: Delay

The Procrastinator shows himself in a variety of ways. It can be anything from binge watching a favourite show (Hello, fellow One Piece fans!), to playing games, or even a strong desire to write a blog post such as this. Many times, it involves maladaptive daydreaming. It’s something I’ve struggled with most of my life.

He says things like, “Oh, do that later! Let’s have some fun instead!” Sometimes I think he’s doing it because he wants the best for me and doesn’t want to see me overstress myself. Many times, though, I wind up feeling remorseful for giving into his distractions.

Where He Gets His Power

I think that’s common with ADHD. A strong desire to do something productive, but for reasons you can’t quite explain… you just can’t start. You can create all the to-do checklists you want, but when it comes to actually working on it, you freeze up. Overwhelm is usually the culprit. Psychologists often link procrastination to overwhelm and fear of failure. So you can bet Dr. Anxiety isn’t too far behind.

When Dr. Anxiety starts asking “what if everything goes wrong?”, The Procrastinator offers a very simple solution: “Let’s deal with that tomorrow.” It’s classic avoidance. This makes me wonder why I want to avoid working on the things I have a strong desire to do. Is it laziness? Could it be the fear of failure? Or maybe even fear of success?

The Truth About The Procrastinator

I do think he’s trying to be helpful in his own way. He’s trying to keep me from collapsing under pressure, and protect me from burning out. I think he’s also trying to help me understand the importance of a decent work-life balance. Why do I always have to be on? Can’t I have a day off? Maybe I just need to be entertained.

Basically, he’s trying to be a good guy. He doesn’t want me to feel stressed out or overwhelmed. Perhaps he simply wants me to relax and enjoy life more. The problem is when a delayed hour turns into a whole day, or even a week.

The list of things I want to accomplish but never work on is pretty extensive. Career decisions. Creative ideas that started with a creative spark. Learning new skills. So many things. I also have realized that perhaps that’s why I avoid doing the housework. I always tell myself, “I’ll work on [some new project] soon, but first I need to clean.” It’s my excuse. It keeps me from possibly trying something and failing to do it. At least this way I can still hope that someday I’ll achieve it. If I try it and fail at it, then what do I do?

He’s trying to protect me. I can feel it deeply. But this reminds me of my favourite quote I heard a long time ago on a He-Man cartoon:

The only time you fail is if you give up before you even try.

What I’m Learning Instead

Okay, so now I know why I needed to write this post right now. I needed to understand that this is a fear of failure that is holding me back. Instead of giving in to my fears, I should be working on at least trying to reach my goals. Sometimes progress even feels like the universe is quietly cheering us on.

From experience, I know that if I start tackling a project, one small step at a time, I can accomplish it fairly quickly. I just need to keep breaking down what feels like insurmountable tasks into even smaller steps. Yes, it’s still important for me to get my home in order. That is my main goal for the year and hopefully the rest of my life. But I can’t let fear control me or keep me from trying.

I haven’t finished my creative studio yet, but plan to for the remainder of the weekend. Honestly, it was a lot of work, sorting through a lot of things. I tackled it one box at a time, divided them into categories, and am now sorting and placing those categories. It’s slow but steady progress that actually moves things forward. I have to remember that.

Diana’s Wisdom: Purr-crastination!

Diana doesn’t have any issues with procrastinating. She’s a cat. Most of her day is spent sleeping and resting. She just doesn’t let the guilt of not accomplishing anything weigh her down. There’s a lot of wisdom to being a cat.

As I’m writing this post, she’s been sitting right next to me, curling close to my lap. It’s almost as if she knows I’m currently writing about her, because she just started purring softly. She reminds me that it’s okay to rest occasionally.

Final Thought: Tomorrow Starts Today

Wow… I really needed to write this post. I feel I’ve had a breakthrough while writing. It’s a fear of failure that keeps me from working on setting up my home. But I won’t know unless I try. Tomorrow’s problems can be solved today, one small step at a time.

The Procrastinator will probably always live somewhere in the lair. The trick is making sure he doesn’t get the control panel.

Do you find The Procrastinator to be helpful, or a hindrance? Share your story with me. I’d love to hear how you struggle with this character, or if you’ve learned to embrace him.

Hero in Progress

Not Every Day Needs a Quest: SuperMell Takes a Breather

Mell D'Clute
SuperMell reclines on a couch in her black-and-purple superhero suit, eyes softly open as she rests and watches gentle shadows on the wall. Diana, a mostly black cat with a small white chest tuft and golden eyes, lies calmly beside her, capturing a quiet moment of rest and companionship.

🛰️ Opening Log: Permission to Pause

Honestly, I’m quite exhausted today. I have been doing a lot for the last month or two:

  • Packed up the old place
  • Moved
  • Slowly unpacking and organizing the new place
  • Creating systems that will ensure I keep the place neat and tidy
  • Working full-time in the evenings, and sleeping during the afternoons

That’s a big list, believe it or not. And I’m not as young or as agile as I once was. Therefore, today I took a day off to just sit with myself. SuperMell takes a breather.

⚠️ The False Villain: “If I Stop, I’ll Fall Behind”

Yes, my old arch-nemesis Dr. Anxiety is showing his ugly face once again. He’s trying to tell me that if I don’t finish everything all at once, I will fail at keeping my resolution to keep a clean, neat and tidy home. This makes me feel somewhat guilty for listening to my body while it yearned for a break.

The truth is I might be putting too much pressure on myself to do it perfectly. For instance, I was trying to set up my figures in the glass display case I have, but the bottom two rows kept falling down, so I had to stop before the anger set in. That moment knocked me off my rhythm, and Dr. Anxiety was quick to declare it a failure. But did I really fail? Or did I recognize my level of frustration was raising, and I needed to take a break from it? I prefer the latter.

This pressure I am adding to myself to do it all perfectly might be the problem. As a person with ADHD, there is that desire to be perfect at it, but that is simply not possible. I should aim for 80%, not 100%. Rest is necessary, especially when putting a place together. There’s no real deadline. If I keep at it, even slowly, it will all get done eventually.

In the past, this type of bait Dr. Anxiety waves in front of me would work. I’d feel like a failure for not doing my daily to-dos and give up. But it’s only a day. I can just get up and try again tomorrow.

🧠 What a “Brain Break” Actually Means (For Me)

Everyone is different and handles things differently, I suppose. For me, a brain break is a day where I don’t do much and almost lose myself to my thoughts. It happens every once in a while, where I revisit old memories, imagine how I’d handle it differently, or just space out for a time. That was what happened yesterday.

I’ve come to realize these brain breaks are absolutely necessary for me to move forward. It’s directly related to my emotions at the moment, so if I pay attention to what it’s trying to tell me about how I’m feeling, acknowledge that I’m feeling this way, and deal with it accordingly, then I can move on.

What a brain break isn’t is giving up. I’m not telling myself I have failed at life therefore I shouldn’t try. It was just one day. I need some days that are just reserved for these breaks every once in a while, otherwise I would definitely fall off into the abyss. Then the Depression Beast would show its fangs.

🛠️ What I’m Actively Not Doing Right Now

Right now, I’m not panicking about not doing anything on a day off. I’m not forcing myself to be productive despite my exhaustion. The plan is simply to do what I feel like doing today, not plan every single detail and schedule those. That way has never worked for me. In fact, I’ve actually titled my chore list as a “What I Feel Like Doing Today” list.

I am also not judging myself for needing to take a day. Even athletes can’t be performing for an entire game. They also need breaks.

Incidentally, I’m also not turning a much needed rest day into a perfectly rested day either. Hence, my decision to write this blog post.

Most importantly, I’m not telling myself I have failed. One of my favourite lines from a He-Man cartoon back in the day was:

The only time you fail is if you give up before you even try.

I haven’t given up and I’m going to keep trying.

🧭 What I Am Still Holding Onto

Above all else, I am still holding onto my new relationship with Lady Optimism. I haven’t quite figured out what my emotions were trying to tell me today, but I know I will figure it out.

I’m still holding onto routines and strategies for coping with this mountain of work ahead of me. The intention is to keep working at it, even slowly, so I know eventually I won’t have to do much. I’m getting in the habit of clearing spaces, tidying up the spaces I’ve already gotten to, putting dishes away, wiping down the kitchen counter, and trying to unpack one box per day (at least). This has been a successful approach so far. When these habits no longer need to be put into my daily What I Feel Like Doing Today list and I just instinctively do it, then I know I will have succeeded.

Even if I don’t, and still need the daily lists, that’s still okay. Maintaining your mind is just as important as maintaining your home, after all.

🐾 Diana’s Approach to Non-Quests

As anyone who’s ever been owned by a cat can tell you, they sleep and rest a lot. Sure, they can get up and bat a ball around for a while, or cozy up to you, demanding to be pet, or fed, or both! Does Diana feel guilty for resting as much as she does? I doubt it. She doesn’t optimize her naps. She just chooses to nap. Watching her rest reminds me that rest is a beautiful thing, and her presence is productive in her own way.

🌱 Final Thought: Rest Is Part of the Journey

SuperMell needed to take a breather today. That just had to happen. My emotions were a little raw, and I needed space to sort through them. And honestly? Even superheroes need a break. Not every day has to have a quest or a battle. Some days exist to refill the map, sharpen the compass, or simply sit by the fire. SuperMell isn’t disappearing. She’s breathing.

Where could you allow yourself a pause? Tell me how you handle off-days in the comments.

Hero in Progress

Origin Rewritten: Becoming the Hero I Needed Back Then

Mell D'Clute
SuperMell stands full-body in a glowing hero’s armoury as purple and gold armour pieces assemble around her in midair. She wears a black Nightwing-inspired suit with a purple ‘M’ emblem, purple gloves, belt, boots, and glasses, looking calm and confident. Beside her sits Diana, a mostly black cat with golden eyes and a small white patch on her chest, unfazed by the transformation. The scene is warm, cinematic, and symbolic of growth and self-chosen strength.

The Rewrite Begins

Origin stories alone don’t make the hero. Sometimes we evolve and change as life forges on. Something has happened with me as of late. I’m not entirely sure where it will lead. Nevertheless, I’m excited to see where this new path takes me.

For many years, I remained stuck to the past. I obsessed about being bullied in a small town to the point that it took over too much of my life. I’m at level 50 now. It’s time to put the past where it belongs, and travel onwards towards a new horizon.

I need to become the hero my younger self needed so desperately. But becoming the hero doesn’t require time travel. It requires awareness—or perhaps self-awareness is more appropriate. This post is all about my continuing evolution into the hero I’m supposed to be, and not what others imposed on me. A hero of my own choosing.

Something has shifted as I prepare to move forward in a very literal way. Stability, clarity, and self-trust are no longer abstract concepts — they’re active choices.

The Original Origin Story (Unarmoured)

I’m certain I’ve mentioned my past before. When I turned nine years old, I moved to a small town outside of Calgary, where I wasn’t welcomed by the people there. I was different, after all. I was a geek girl, back when that wasn’t really a thing. Then I failed grade four, and that began the many years of being bullied.

As I already alluded to, I spent way too much of my time obsessing over the pain that treatment caused me. Being isolated, ignored, insulted, and being treated like an outcast brought me a lot of emotional turmoil. It introduced me to The Depression Beast, and, not long after, Dr. Anxiety. I allowed the years of cruelty to take over most of my adulthood. I wanted to prove to everyone that I would be a major success and be a big shot. That desire fuelled some really bad decisions.

I was also struggling with this little thing known as ADHD. No one knew how it affected girls when I was a kid (still don’t, really), so it wasn’t diagnosed. I had much difficulty with reading or paying attention to conversations. Many teachers assumed I had reading comprehension issues, but that wasn’t it. It’s hard to comprehend what I’m reading when my mind travels to far and distant lands mid-sentence.

But I wasn’t broken. I was merely under-equipped.

🔹 The Villains Were Never What I Thought

Honestly? The depression beast scared the hell out of me. Dr. Anxiety made me nervous. I thought for the longest time those two would rule over my life with an iron fist forever. Together, they convinced me that I was in fact a loser. If I didn’t get a good career, a good marriage, a good family, a good house, I wouldn’t add up to a big shot, and I wouldn’t be able to prove to everyone that they didn’t break me. But the thing about that is: they did break me.

They convinced me I was broken. In reality, I was reacting exactly as a human does when pushed too far for too long. Obsessing about the past as I did for too long only got in my way. Did I really need to be something huge? Most people on this planet are everyday, normal people, who just try to do the best with what they’ve got. Besides, obsessing over becoming a big shot only leads to egomania. Did I really need a marriage to be happy? Kids? A house? (I’m still not sure about that last one…) If I got those things, would I be happier?

For a while, I had a great career, but that didn’t bring me happiness. The depression beast had its razor sharp claws dug deeply within me, and Dr. Anxiety kept manipulating me to act now on [insert this impulse] before it’s too late. But… Too late for what? When is too late? When you’re dead, I suppose.

Did I really want any of that? Or was that what I thought society wanted for me?

🔹 The Rewrite: Armour Built Over Time

When I realized that the Depression Beast and Dr. Anxiety were ridiculous creatures to listen to, I decided to put on my superhero mantle with pride. My origin story may have forged me for awhile, but there were some truths about myself Dr. Anxiety failed to realize: I survived. I am the hero of my own story.

The past taught me some things about myself. I like who I am. I’m nice and kind, but don’t take any crap from anyone anymore. Reaching level 50, you realize some battles are worth fighting for, and some aren’t. Knowing what you can change—and just as important what you can’t change—is really the key here. The past isn’t something I can change, and neither are the thoughts, words, or actions of others. What is within my control is what I choose to say, think, and do. Boom! Mic drop.

I have learned some valuable skills over the years. I’m resilient, strong, brave, kindhearted, trustworthy, dependable, reliable, loyal, and I never surrender. There have been many instances when I felt like life might be over for me, but the fact is I’m still here, fighting the good fight.

I also finally convinced a doctor a couple of years ago to get me assessed for ADHD, and from there, got on a medication that I wish I had tried ages ago. I feel stronger and more aware of myself than I’ve ever felt in my life.

I’ve also learned the power in saying no. Being a people pleaser was tiring. Trying to prove myself to everyone was exhausting. Setting up boundaries is the only way to show oneself self-compassion. Instead of acting with urgency, I should act with intention. The armour may not be flashy, but it’s functional.

It’s time to bid Dr. Anxiety and the Depression Beast a final farewell.

Becoming the Hero I Needed

Who is SuperMell? What can I give myself now that I couldn’t do back then? Let me break it down for you:

  • Protection – I wasn’t able to find a protector as a kid, but I have since realized I am my own protector. There was something inside me that kept me going and protected me from serious harm. I had my armour on without even knowing it was there.
  • Patience – The last couple of years have taught me a lot about patience. Losing my job, moving into my parents’ basement, working a crappy job — it all taught me this was a temporary setback. Now that I have a better job and will be moving next week, I feel like all that effort has finally paid off.
  • Validation – It’s important for me to say this as strongly and poignantly as I can. Every emotion I have felt over the years are valid. I am valid. I am a person, and I matter. Whenever the Depression Beast would show up and growl into my ear that I wasn’t important and didn’t matter to anyone, it didn’t erase the fact that I am important and I do matter. (In fact, I just got a gift of a cup from work saying as much…)
  • Choice – This is the big one! Everything that has happened to me, that is happening to me, and what will happen to me is my choice. I can choose to act, or not act. I can choose nothing and still come out ahead. My own choices are what’s guiding me right now. I’m no longer listening to the Depression Beast, and Dr. Anxiety’s influence is also waning. I won’t say he’s gone for good as of yet. Life will continue to thrown curve balls along the way. But knowing I am in charge of my own decisions sets me free.

I’m not going to erase my origin story. What’ the point of that? It made me the person I am today. I own it, and I honour my past. Even the bad decisions taught me something about myself. Choosing to show up differently changes the path.

The Power Isn’t Perfection

I don’t want to come across as though I’m a completely evolved person who will never listen to the Depression Beast or Dr. Anxiety again. That’s naive. I haven’t arrived. That’s a myth. There is no destination.

Growth doesn’t mean you’re invincible. Things can still hurt me. I have no idea what will happen after I move. There’s a certain Dr. who is whispering in my ear about that. I’m doing my best to laugh it off, but I know with such uncertainty, anxiety will happen. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I just need to remember to slow down, breathe, and think things through thoroughly before I make a decision or act. Is this really me talking, or Dr. Anxiety?

I’m still human. I’m sure I will make mistakes along the way. No one is flawless. What I plan to take with me is the lesson any mistake teaches me. That’s what real growth looks like. I no longer care about proving myself to anyone other than me. I’m still learning.

True power lies in adaptability, not dominance. Even though I’ve proclaimed I’ve changed, it’s what into that I’m not sure about yet. I just feel different now. Maybe it’s a wisdom that comes with hitting level 50. I know as I continue to grow into the hero I know I’m capable of being, life is about progress over performance.

🐾 Diana’s Perspective

Diana is true purr-fection. All she knows is she is a happy cat, and that’s good enough for her. When she sees me sitting too much, if not joining me, she’ll pick up a random toy and fling it about, signalling to me to not take things so seriously and enjoy myself. Not to mention, it’s time to get off my lazy butt and do something. Sometimes I wonder if cats are the true masters of zen.

Final Thought

The rewrite is ongoing. There is no set time limit, and I no longer care about trying to impress anyone else. I don’t need to go back in time to change its meaning. Becoming the hero I needed back then is a necessary evolutionary change—one that I’m excited to see where it takes me. My origin story didn’t end. It evolved into something better.

Tell me something: how are you the hero of your own story? Has your origin story haunted you? Did you learn something new about yourself in the process? Share them in the comments. I’d love to hear your story.

The Ones Who Shaped Me

The Wheaton Effect: How One Hero Helped Me Unmask Myself

Mell D'Clute
SuperMell sits cross-legged on the floor of her softly glowing Command Centre, writing in a digital journal as a warm golden light radiates from a monitor behind her. The light forms a faint silhouette made of glowing words like “hope,” “courage,” and “writing.” Diana, her black cat, sits in her lap, eyes half-closed in contentment, as symbols of inspiration hover around them — a starship, a quill, and an open book.

Fandom Meets Inspiration

There’s one person I’ve mentioned a few times on my blog who’s had a huge influence on me — someone who deserves a post dedicated entirely to him. Not only have I been a fan of his since childhood, but his personal healing journeycontinues to inspire me.
That person is Wil Wheaton.

How I Was Introduced to Him

One of my all-time favourite animated movies — if not the favourite — was The Secret of N.I.M.H. The story was darker than most cartoons at the time, and to a young girl constantly surrounded by princesses and happily-ever-afters, it felt real.

Despite the talking animals, the story of a widowed mother trying to save her son — and ultimately her whole family — struck a deep chord with me. It was emotional, impactful, and beautifully performed. I later learned that Wil Wheaton voiced her older son, and that connection would stay with me.

Then came Stand By Me. A story about four boys searching for a dead body might sound like an odd favourite, but I’ve always been drawn to stories with emotional weight. I instantly related to Wheaton’s character, Gordie Lachance — shy, creative, and burdened with grief and self-doubt. Even as a kid, I could see that pain behind his eyes.

When I later learned that Wheaton brought parts of himself to that role, it made sense. His performance was both powerful and painfully human.

Star Trek and a Sense of Belonging

I didn’t start watching Star Trek: The Next Generation until Season 3. I’ll admit it — when it first aired, I thought Star Trek was “too nerdy.” But when I discovered Wil Wheaton was part of the cast, I decided to tune in — and that decision changed everything.

That was the start of my love for Star Trek. The show’s blend of humanity, exploration, and teamwork felt like family to me. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all if Wheaton hadn’t been there to draw me in — proof that sometimes fandoms find you right when you need them most.

The Great Depression

No, not the one from the 1930s — mine.

Growing up in a small town, I was bullied relentlessly — back when it was dismissed as “teasing” and never taken seriously. By junior high, I knew I was depressed, even if I didn’t yet have the language for it.

Star Trek: The Next Generation became my safe place. It aired in syndication after school every day, and for two hours, I could escape. The stories, the friendships, and the sense of hope gave me a reason to hold on. It showed me what healthy connection and belonging could look like, even when I felt isolated in real life.

When I couldn’t find work after high school, my depression deepened. I was trapped in the same town that hurt me, hearing classmates actively discourage people from hiring me. I survived by disappearing into Star Trek and superhero comics — worlds where people overcame impossible odds.

Those stories — and Wheaton’s presence in them — gave me hope when I had none.

WilWheaton.net

In the early days of the internet, I discovered Wil Wheaton’s blog, and I was instantly hooked. His writing was raw, honest, and often frustrated with the same world that had once cheered him. It made me feel seen.

As someone still processing years of bullying and trying to find my place in the world, it was incredibly healing to read a public figure be that vulnerable. I wasn’t alone anymore.

Because of Wil Wheaton, I started blogging too. I found that I could be more open online than in person. Over time, I realized how therapeutic it was — writing gave my pain shape and then set it free.

One day, I wrote a furious blog post about a junior-high bully who had haunted my thoughts for years. I poured out every detail, every resentment, every wound. When I finished, the obsession was gone. It was as if I’d exorcised him from my mind. That was the moment I realized writing could heal — a discovery that began with Wil Wheaton’s blog.

Wheaton’s Personal Healing Journey

When I read his memoir Just a Geek, I was going through my own personal struggles. His openness about regret and self-doubt was both humbling and motivating.

He wrote about his “Prove to Everyone” voice — that inner critic that demanded success to justify his choices. His was “Prove to everyone that quitting Star Trek was the right thing to do.” Mine was “Prove to everyone that I can be a success despite what they did to me.”

That drive led to a few bad decisions — including a marriage based more on fear than love — but seeing Wil’s honesty about his own missteps helped me forgive myself.

Years later, when he released Still Just a Geek, it hit even harder. By then, he’d opened up about his abuse and his path to recovery. Reading those words felt like closure — not only for him, but for the version of myself who first needed his example.

Just a Fan

I’m not a fangirl, exactly — more like a student. I see Wil Wheaton as a mentor in resilience and authenticity. As he’s learned to heal and speak openly about mental health, I’ve learned to accept my past and find meaning in it.

I’ve been successful before, but I didn’t recognize it through the fog of depression. Now, I’m rebuilding — one small step at a time — and I wouldn’t be where I am without the inspiration of his story.

Diana’s Wisdom

I’m not sure if Diana knows who Wil Wheaton is — but she’d probably approve. He’s an animal lover too, and his affection for his pets always warms my heart.

Diana, of course, believes all cats should have publicists and mental health advocates. 🐾 If they ever met, I think she’d purr in solidarity.

Final Thought

The impact Wil Wheaton has had on my life wasn’t small — it was seismic. From his performances to his writing to his advocacy for mental health, his honesty has helped shape who I am.

I hope he continues to heal and thrive — because through his courage, I learned how to unmask myself.

Command Centre Update

The Journey Evolves

Mell D'Clute
SuperMell sits at her glowing Command Centre desk, writing on a digital journal as soft holographic echoes of past adventures fade behind her. Diana, her black cat, sits nearby with golden eyes, nodding approvingly as if acknowledging this new chapter in the journey.

SuperMell’s Log: Time for a Change

I’m going to be changing the direction of this blog. Instead of writing every day, I’ll be writing when inspiration strikes. Lately, I’ve started to feel like this blog is more ChatGPT’s than mine. While it’s been an incredible creative partner — and some posts turned out beautifully — the process has begun to feel repetitive. I want this space to reflect my journey, not just a rhythm. It’s time to recalibrate.

What Changes?!!

Instead of weekly and daily themes, my posts will have categories. These categories are, in no particular order:

I think it’s necessary to change things so they make more sense, rather than writing posts for the sake of making sure there are posts. I want this site to be a labour of love from me to anyone who actually reads this site, rather than an AI-generated blog post.

My Personal AI Assistant

I’ve loved using ChatGPT to help shape this blog. The changes ahead are about direction, not disconnection. I’ll still use it to refine SEO, readability, and my usual visuals — including those SuperMell and Diana images that have become part of this blog’s identity. And when I hit a creative wall, I might still ask it for a spark — just as any writer bounces ideas off a trusted collaborator.

Changes?!! We Don’t Need No Stinking Changes!

Kidding, of course. There are personal reasons why I am making these changes. For that, I wish to tell you about what inspired me to do blogging in the first place: Wil Wheaton and his blog.

I was always a fan of his as an actor, but more so when I discovered his blog on the early days of the internet. It has served as the inspiration behind my own personal blog. I loved how open he was about his story and his troubles with mental health. It was extremely helpful to a shy and insecure person like myself, who had a huge history of being bullied as a kid, that someone as famous as him shared some of the same struggles I did. In a way, it made me feel less alone in this world.

These changes aren’t about walking away — they’re about coming home to my own voice. I’ve at time struggled with my own issues. I used blogging early on to try to sort out my emotions and thoughts and my healing journey. While some of those posts really resonated with some people, I found them to be a little too negative. So it was easy for me to come up with the concept of this blog, with the help of ChatGPT to help keep the narrative positive and superhero-inspired. It has just gotten to the point that it no longer feels like it’s my blog anymore, so I needed to change things up a bit.

Will Anything Be the Same?

Absolutely! I love the SuperMell persona — she’s become a symbol of strength and creativity for me. Someday I will learn how to sew and make my own costume so I can wear it proudly at Fan Expos and Comicons, and of course Halloween. And of course my sidekick, Diana the cat, will continue to have a prominent role here on these pages. I do love the geek culture posts and love the general message of this blog.

The whole purpose of my website was to try to make a web presence for myself in the hopes it helps market me to potential job hunters looking for an experienced and quirky graphic designer. But since the blog started, it has evolved more so into a whole other personal journey.

I have found some of the posts that were written by AI were quite great and it has indeed helped me to deal with some very important issues. It helped me get out of working for a toxic company owned by people who shouldn’t be running a business. It has helped me deal with some personal issues and I often turn to it for advice. So it’s not like I will be completely giving up my ChatGPT.

Diana’s Insight

As much as Diana loves consistency, she also loves authenticity. Sometimes I would look at her as I was copying and pasting the stories, and she’d be giving me this look like she was saying, “What are you actually doing?” She reminded me to find my own voice again. She’s purr-fection!

Final Thought

I hope you all will enjoy the changes moving forward. I don’t know how often I will be posting, but it definitely won’t be a daily thing anymore. It’s proving to be taking up too much of my time as it is, so the posts will be two or three a week, or whenever I feel inspired to write something. If you don’t miss a post, remember to subscribe to my blog. I will continue to share these posts on social media when I do post.

Thank you for following along on this journey — and for giving me a reason to keep growing, creating, and sharing. I don’t know how often I’ll post, but when I do, I promise it’ll be authentic and from the heart.

Live long and prosper. 🖖

Skill Builder Saturday

🛠️ Training for the Reveal: Becoming Comfortable in My Own Skin

Mell D'Clute
A digital comic book–style illustration shows SuperMell mid-transformation, with her civilian clothes fading into her superhero suit. She stands confidently in front of a training simulator console displaying progress stats. Her posture reflects both determination and vulnerability. Diana, her black cat with a white chest tuft and golden eyes, watches nearby from atop a training bench, her eyes calm and observant. The scene glows with soft light, symbolizing growth and self-acceptance.

The first time I called myself a hero—even just in my head—it felt like a lie.

I imagined a dramatic cape swirl, a heroic stance, a perfect speech. But all I could muster in real life was a quiet determination to keep going. No crowd cheered. There was no spotlight beamed down. Just me, in my everyday skin, trying to believe I was worthy of being seen.

Truth is, I’ve spent much of my life hiding.

Hiding behind humour. Behind perfectionism. Behind creative projects. Even behind roles others assigned me—“the responsible one,” “the weird one,” “the helper.” It wasn’t always safe to be fully visible. So I adapted, created masks that kept me functional… and silent.

But hiding takes energy. A lot of it. And eventually, the mask gets heavy. You forget what your real face looks like.

So I started training.

Not in the gym, but in tiny daily choices. Practising honesty. Learning how to sit with discomfort. Asking for help (which, let me tell you, took serious inner reps). Choosing to be seen in my full imperfection—and allowing that to be enough.

This kind of training doesn’t come with medals. But it builds something deeper: comfort in your own skin.

Comfort doesn’t mean perfection. It doesn’t mean I never doubt myself. Comfort means I’ve learned to stay with myself, even when I feel awkward, unsure, or raw.

It means I’m willing to show up without a mask—not because I’ve “conquered” shame, but because I’ve befriended my complexity.

🐾 Diana’s Wisdom

Diana has never once questioned whether she deserves to take up space. Whether she’s loafed on my chest, climbed onto my keyboard mid-thought, or perched like a gargoyle on the back of the couch, she lives as if she belongs exactly where she is.

And maybe that’s the point.

We don’t need to justify our right to exist. We just… do. Comfort in our skin is our birthright—not something we earn by being useful or impressive or flawless.

💬 Final Thought

Becoming comfortable in your own skin isn’t a finish line you cross—it’s a practice you return to, choice by choice. Show up as yourself. Wobble a little. And stay kind while you do it.

What does becoming comfortable in your skin look like for you lately? Let me know in the comments—I’d love to hear.

Mission Monday

Dual Identity: The Mission Beneath the Mask

Mell D'Clute
A traditional comic book-style digital illustration of SuperMell standing in front of a large mirror. The reflection reveals her unmasked self in everyday clothes, symbolizing her dual identity. Diana, her black cat with golden eyes and a small white chest patch, sits nearby, watching calmly. The lighting emphasizes the contrast between hero and civilian, capturing the theme of hidden strength.

We all wear masks. Some are for protection, some for performance. Others help us feel powerful when we’re anything but.

For me, my superhero identity—SuperMell—isn’t just a metaphor. She’s the embodiment of the version of me that keeps showing up, no matter what. When life gets messy, uncertain, or painful, I don the metaphorical mask to face it. Not because I want to hide—but because I need something to hold onto.

But what happens when the mask comes off?

That’s what I’ve been reflecting on this week as I explore the theme of dual identity—balancing the heroic persona with the vulnerable human underneath.

The Mask Has a Mission

Wearing a metaphorical mask isn’t about being fake. For me, it’s about focus. When I show up as SuperMell, I’m setting an intention: to lead with courage, clarity, and conviction—even if I’m shaking inside.

That identity gives me structure. When I sit down to write a blog post, apply for a job, or tackle a Lean Six Sigma module, I’m not just Mell, the woman who feels stuck in a basement trying to reboot her life. I’m SuperMell, the strategist, the creative force, the one who knows her value—even when the world seems to disagree.

That mission is rooted in resilience. The mask is not a lie—it’s a lens.

If you’re curious about how my story began, you can check out Owning My Origin Story

What Lies Beneath

Still, I’m learning not to lose myself under the cape. SuperMell may help me power through a task or calm my nerves at a networking event—but she’s not all of me.

Beneath that identity is someone who’s navigating real challenges: the grief of feeling behind in life, the fear that I won’t make it back into the industry I love, the daily weight of depression. And none of that disappears just because I put on the suit.

But the key is this: acknowledging both sides. I’m not pretending those things don’t exist. I’m using the tools I’ve developed to keep going while holding space for the truth underneath.

Psychologists suggest this is a common part of being human—we all shift our ‘masks’ depending on the roles we play.” (Psychology Today)

Diana Moment: My Sidekick Without a Mask

Diana, my cat, doesn’t do dual identities. She’s 100% authentic at all times—regal one moment, ridiculous the next. No mask, no mission, no performative pressure. Just her golden eyes, her purring weight on my lap, her unapologetic selfhood.

And honestly? That’s part of what grounds me. She reminds me that I can just be. That I don’t always have to do or prove to be worthy of comfort, affection, or rest.

Sometimes, the best thing I can do for my mission is to take a moment to just be Mell—with Diana curled beside me and no cape in sight.

Final Thought

Superhero stories often hinge on a dual identity. But the best ones show us that the power doesn’t come from the mask—it comes from the person underneath it.

Today, I’m honouring both parts of my story: the one who suits up, and the one who sometimes needs to lay the mask gently aside and breathe.

💬 What’s one way you balance the version of yourself the world sees with who you are inside? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

Wisdom Wednesday

Owning My Origin Story

Mell D'Clute
A digital illustration in comic book style shows a young girl sitting alone on school steps, her shadow cast behind her forming the silhouette of a confident superhero with a cape and mask. The adult SuperMell stands nearby, gently placing a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. Diana, the cat, sits curled protectively at the girl's feet. The tone is emotionally warm, symbolizing transformation, healing, and self-recognition.

The Journey That Made Me

Superheroes don’t start out super. They start out as kids in cities and small towns, in complicated families or overlooked corners of the world. They go through something—some moment of impact, loss, or realization that changes their direction forever.

My own story isn’t written in capes or cosmic rays, but in classrooms where I couldn’t concentrate, in small towns where I struggled to belong, and in the deep quiet of being misunderstood. I used to want to erase parts of that history. Now? I’m learning to claim it. Because owning my origin story means taking back the power in how I view my past.

I didn’t fall behind in school because I was lazy. I had undiagnosed ADHD. I wasn’t weird—I was imaginative. And I wasn’t broken—I was just learning how to function in a world that didn’t come with instructions for someone like me.

When a Hero Origin Isn’t Glamorous

Many origin stories aren’t shiny. Mine includes failing Grade 4, being bullied for my appearance, and internalizing shame about things I didn’t yet understand. It includes masking, people-pleasing, perfectionism, and believing I had to earn my worth by working harder than everyone else just to be “enough.”

But every one of those struggles was a chapter that taught me resilience, compassion, and creative problem-solving. Those things didn’t show up on report cards, but they’re the core of who I’ve become.

And here’s what I’ve realized: hiding my origin story doesn’t protect me—it just keeps me small. But when I own it? When I write and speak it? That’s when I take my power back.

Diana’s Perspective

Diana doesn’t have an origin story in the way I do. She was a rescue cat. She doesn’t carry shame about her past. She doesn’t worry about being “too much” or “not enough.” She just is.

Watching her move through life, so unapologetically herself, reminds me that I can rewrite the story I’ve told myself. That I can be gentle with the younger version of me who felt so out of place. That I can honour every step that brought me here.

And every time she curls up next to me while I write? That’s a reminder: I’m safe now. I’ve got this.

Final Thought

We don’t get to choose the circumstances of our origin stories—but we do get to choose how we carry them forward. When I own my story, I no longer feel like I have to hide it. I feel free to grow from it.

What part of your story are you learning to reclaim? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

Soft-Paw Sunday

Rest Isn’t Retreat—It’s Recovery

Mell D'Clute
SuperMell is shown just inside the doorway of a peaceful sanctuary space. Her superhero uniform is hung neatly on a wall hook near the door. She’s barefoot, wearing a soft purple top and black leggings, standing or sitting on a bench as she pulls her hair into a relaxed ponytail. Diana the cat curls nearby in a beam of light, watching peacefully. The lighting is warm and golden—like late afternoon light. The room feels like a mix between a wellness retreat and a cozy studio apartment: restful, but still strong.

Quiet Moments, Big Lessons

Some Sundays feel like a sigh of relief. I don’t always recognize it at first—sometimes it shows up as low energy, brain fog, or a subtle ache in my bones. But over time, I’ve learned to read the signals. It’s not laziness or lack of drive—it’s my mind and body telling me I’ve been pushing hard, and it’s time to rest.

Rest isn’t retreat. It isn’t failure. It isn’t weakness. It’s what allows me to keep showing up at all.

As someone who’s rebuilding both a career and a sense of purpose, I used to think I had to be “on” all the time to make progress. That every moment not spent studying, writing, or updating my portfolio meant I was falling behind. But what I’ve learned is this: progress isn’t linear, and pushing through burnout never leads where I want to go.

What My Recovery Looks Like

Recovery doesn’t always mean staying in bed—though sometimes, it does. It can mean giving myself permission to move slowly, to do things that aren’t “productive” on the surface but bring me back to myself.

Sometimes it’s journaling, sometimes it’s lying on the couch watching a show I’ve seen a dozen times. Sometimes it’s sorting through old comics or pausing to actually feel whatever emotion I’ve been carrying around all week.

Today, recovery means writing this post with soft music playing and a blanket wrapped around me. It means honouring the slower rhythm of a Sunday without apologizing for it.

Diana’s Downtime Wisdom

Diana is the queen of intuitive rest. She doesn’t feel guilty for curling up in a sunbeam or stretching out luxuriously in the middle of the bed. She simply trusts her body and her instincts.

This morning, she plopped herself beside me like a little weighted blanket and purred with quiet determination—like she knew I needed a reminder to stop overthinking and just be.

Watching her, I’m reminded that sometimes the most heroic thing I can do is pause—protect my peace, recharge my spirit, and listen inward instead of pushing outward.

Final Thought

Recovery is not the opposite of effort. It’s what makes sustained effort possible. Every hero needs downtime between battles—and for me, Sunday is where I gather the strength to face another week.

So if you’re feeling slow today… good. That might just mean you’re healing.

What helps you feel restored when you’re worn down? I’d love to hear your version of recovery.