Things I Stopped Doing That Saved My Mental Health

Recovery isn't just about adding positive habits to your life. Sometimes the most powerful changes come from stopping the things that were quietly destroying you all along. For years, I tried to "fix" my mental health by doing more....more therapy, more self-care routines, more wellness practices, more positive thinking. And while some of that helped, the real breakthrough came when I started identifying what I needed to stop doing.

These aren't dramatic changes. They're subtle patterns that seem harmless or even productive on the surface. But each one was slowly eroding my mental health without me fully realizing it.

Here are the things I stopped doing that genuinely saved my mental health. Not all of them will resonate with everyone—we're all different. But if even one of these speaks to you, maybe it's worth examining whether it's serving you or slowly breaking you.

1. I Stopped Apologizing for Having Needs

For most of my life, I apologized for needing things. "Sorry to bother you, but..." "I hate to ask, but..." "I know this is annoying, but..."

I apologized for needing help. For having boundaries. For expressing preferences. For taking up space. For existing in a way that wasn't completely convenient for everyone else. Every apology reinforced the belief that my needs were burdensome. That wanting things—rest, support, kindness, respect—was somehow selfish or demanding.

What changed: I started noticing how often I apologized when I hadn't done anything wrong. I began catching myself mid-apology and asking: "What exactly am I sorry for? Having a human need?"

I practiced saying things without the apologetic preamble:

• "I need to leave by 5pm" instead of "Sorry, but I have to leave by 5pm"

• "I can't take that on right now" instead of "I'm so sorry, I know this is inconvenient, but..."

• "That doesn't work for me" instead of "Sorry to be difficult, but..."

Why it saved my mental health: Constantly apologizing for my needs kept me in a shame cycle where simply being human felt like something to be sorry for. It reinforced the belief that I was inherently too much, too needy, too burdensome.

When I stopped apologizing for having needs, I stopped treating my existence as an inconvenience. My needs became neutral facts rather than moral failures.

You don't owe anyone an apology for being human.

2. I Stopped Consuming Content That Made Me Feel Like Shit

Social media. News. Certain podcasts. Accounts that triggered comparison. Influencers whose perfect lives made me feel inadequate. Doomscrolling through catastrophes I couldn't do anything about. I told myself I needed to stay informed, stay connected, stay aware. But "staying informed" had become a compulsion that left me anxious, hopeless, and convinced the world was ending.

What changed: I got ruthlessly honest about how content made me feel. Not how it was "supposed" to make me feel or what it said about me if certain content bothered me. How it actually made me feel.

I unfollowed accounts that triggered comparison, even if they seemed "inspirational." I muted keywords that sent me into anxiety spirals. I deleted apps during particularly vulnerable periods. I stopped reading news first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

I gave myself permission to curate my media consumption based on my mental health, not on what I felt obligated to know or stay updated on.

Why it saved my mental health: The content we consume shapes our internal reality. I was feeding my brain a constant stream of inadequacy, disaster, and anxiety, then wondering why I felt inadequate, anxious, and hopeless.

Protecting what enters your mind isn't ignorance or avoidance—it's basic mental hygiene. You don't have to consume everything. You don't have to stay updated on every tragedy. You don't have to follow people who make you feel small.

Your mental health matters more than being "informed."

3. I Stopped Trying to Maintain Relationships That Were One-Sided

Friendships where I was always the one reaching out. Always initiating. Always accommodating their schedule, their preferences, their needs. Where I showed up consistently but they were perpetually "too busy" to reciprocate.

I kept trying because I told myself that's what good friends do. They don't keep score. They don't make relationships transactional. They give without expecting anything back. But there's a difference between not keeping score and being the only one playing the game.

What changed: I did an experiment: I stopped initiating. I stopped being the one to text first, make plans, check in, organize gatherings. I wanted to see what would happen if I let relationships exist based on mutual effort rather than my solo carrying.

Some relationships faded completely. People I'd considered close friends never reached out once I stopped doing all the work. It hurt. But it also clarified who actually valued my presence versus who just enjoyed my efforts.

Other relationships shifted. Some people reached out asking if I was okay. Some stepped up and started initiating. Those relationships became healthier and more balanced.

Why it saved my mental health: One-sided relationships drained me while reinforcing the belief that I had to work incredibly hard to deserve connection. That I had to earn people's presence through constant effort and accommodation.

The relationships that survived my stopping were the ones worth having. The ones that faded were relationships that only existed because I was willing to do all the work.

Mutual effort isn't transactional—it's basic respect.

4. I Stopped Performing Recovery

For a while, my mental health journey became another performance. I curated it for social media. I made sure people knew I was meditating, journaling, going to therapy, practicing gratitude, doing all the "right" things.

I wanted credit for the work I was doing. I wanted validation that I was healing correctly. I wanted proof that I was getting better.

But recovery became about looking like I was recovering rather than actually recovering.

What changed: I made my mental health journey private again. I stopped posting about every therapy session, every breakthrough, every self-care practice. I stopped needing external validation for the work I was doing.

I let recovery be messy, private, and imperfect without documenting it for an audience.

Why it saved my mental health: Performing recovery kept me focused on how healing looked to others rather than how it felt to me. I was more concerned with appearing to do the work than actually doing it.

When I stopped performing, recovery became something I did for me, not for the approval or inspiration of others. Your healing doesn't need to be documented, shared, or validated by anyone else. It can be private, messy, and entirely for you.

5. I Stopped Forcing Positivity

Gratitude journals where I listed things I "should" be grateful for while feeling numb. Affirmations I didn't believe. Trying to reframe every negative thought into a positive one. Toxic positivity disguised as mental health.

I thought if I just focused on the positive enough, the negative feelings would disappear. They didn't. They just went underground where I couldn't address them.

What changed: I started allowing myself to feel whatever I was feeling without immediately trying to fix it, reframe it, or make it positive.

Sad? I let myself be sad without immediately searching for silver linings. Angry? I acknowledged the anger instead of suppressing it because "anger is negative." Anxious? I sat with the anxiety instead of forcing myself to "just think positive thoughts." I stopped treating negative emotions as problems to solve and started treating them as information to notice.

Why it saved my mental health: Forced positivity made me feel like I was failing at mental health whenever I felt anything negative. It created a second layer of suffering—not just the difficult emotion, but shame about having it.

When I stopped forcing positivity, I could actually process emotions instead of suppressing them. Turns out, allowing yourself to feel bad sometimes is part of actually getting better. You don't have to be positive all the time. Negative emotions aren't evidence that you're doing mental health wrong.

6. I Stopped Saying Yes When I Meant No

Yes to events I didn't want to attend. Yes to favors I didn't have capacity for. Yes to commitments that drained me. Yes because saying no felt mean, selfish, or difficult.

Every yes that should have been a no chipped away at my energy and resentment grew in the space where boundaries should have been.

What changed: I started practicing "let me think about it" instead of automatic yes. I gave myself permission to check in with my actual capacity and desires before committing.

I created a simple rule: unless it's an immediate emergency, I don't give an answer on the spot. "Let me check my schedule and get back to you" became my new default response.

Why it saved my mental health: Every time I said yes when I meant no, I was choosing resentment over authenticity. I was teaching people that my boundaries were negotiable and my needs didn't matter.

When I started saying no (or "not right now"), I reclaimed my time, energy, and self-respect. The people who mattered understood. The people who didn't weren't meant to stay in my life anyway. Your "no" is a complete sentence. You don't owe anyone an explanation for protecting your wellbeing.

7. I Stopped Comparing My Journey to Everyone Else's

Social media made it easy to measure my progress against everyone else's highlight reel. They were married, I was single. They had their dream job, I was struggling. They looked happy, I felt stuck.

Comparison became a daily assault on my self-worth.

What changed: I started unfollowing accounts that triggered comparison. I stopped checking in on people whose lives made me feel inadequate. I quit measuring my worth by external benchmarks.

Most importantly, I started acknowledging that I had no idea what was really happening in anyone else's life. The perfect photos didn't show the therapy sessions, the struggles, the breakdowns happening behind closed doors.

Why it saved my mental health: Comparison is a joy thief. Every time I measured myself against someone else, I was invalidating my own journey, my own timeline, my own unique path.

When I stopped comparing, I could finally see my own progress. I could celebrate my wins without immediately diminishing them because someone else seemed further ahead. Your journey is yours alone. Comparison steals your peace and gives nothing valuable in return.

8. I Stopped Neglecting My Physical Health

For years, I treated my body like an inconvenience. I skipped meals when stressed. Stayed up too late scrolling. Rarely moved my body. Ignored physical symptoms because I was "too busy" or convinced they didn't matter.

I didn't realize how deeply connected my physical and mental health were until I finally started taking care of my body.

What changed: I started with basics. Regular sleep schedule. Three meals a day. Movement that felt good, not punishing. Drinking water. Getting sunlight.

Nothing radical. Just consistent attention to my body's basic needs.

Why it saved my mental health: My body and mind aren't separate entities—they're interconnected systems. When I ignored my physical needs, my mental health suffered. When I started nourishing my body properly, my anxiety decreased, my mood improved, and I had actual energy to engage with life.

You can't think your way out of physical depletion. Sometimes the most effective mental health intervention is sleep, food, movement, and sunlight.

9. I Stopped Living in Survival Mode

For years, I was in constant fight-or-flight. Every day felt like an emergency. Every problem felt catastrophic. I operated at maximum stress levels 24/7 because I thought that's what productivity and success required.

Survival mode became my default state.

What changed: I started actively creating moments of safety and calm. I practiced grounding techniques when I felt panic rising. I reminded myself that not everything is an emergency, and I don't have to treat my life like a perpetual crisis.

I learned to distinguish between actual urgent situations and my nervous system's overreaction to normal stressors.

Why it saved my mental health: Living in survival mode kept my nervous system chronically dysregulated. It prevented me from experiencing joy, connection, or peace because my brain was constantly scanning for threats.

When I learned to regulate my nervous system and create actual safety (not just the absence of danger, but the presence of calm), my entire experience of life shifted.

Not everything is an emergency. Your nervous system needs to know it's safe.

10. I Stopped Waiting for Permission to Prioritize My Mental Health

I waited for things to get "bad enough" to justify taking care of myself. I waited for permission from others to rest, to set boundaries, to ask for help. I waited for external validation that my struggles were legitimate. I treated my mental health as optional—something to address only when everything else was handled.

What changed: I stopped waiting. I stopped justifying. I stopped needing my mental health to be "bad enough" before I deserved care.

I started treating my mental health as essential, not optional. As something that deserves attention before crisis, not just during it.

Why it saved my mental health: Waiting for permission meant waiting until I was barely functioning before I took action. By then, recovery was harder and took longer.

When I started prioritizing my mental health proactively—before crisis hit—I prevented many breakdowns before they started. I built resilience instead of just practicing damage control. You don't need anyone's permission to take care of yourself. Your mental health matters before crisis, not just during it.

The Pattern I Noticed

Looking back at everything I stopped doing, I see a theme: I was constantly abandoning myself in small ways that accumulated into major mental health struggles.

Every apology for having needs, every forced yes, every comparison, every moment of survival mode—they all communicated the same message to myself: "You don't matter as much as everyone and everything else."

The things I stopped doing weren't dramatic overhauls. They were subtle patterns that seemed harmless individually but were collectively destroying my peace.

What actually saved my mental health wasn't adding more self-care activities or positive habits. It was stopping the things that were quietly undermining me all along.

Sometimes healing isn't about doing more. It's about releasing what no longer serves you.

Go Deeper with The Holistic Healing Handbook

If these changes resonated with you and you're ready to transform not just what you stop doing, but how you actively heal and build a life of balance, my Holistic Healing Handbook is your comprehensive guide to true transformation.

This isn't another generic wellness guide. This is a complete system for aligning your mind, body, emotions, spirit, relationships, and lifestyle with your deepest values and highest potential.

Inside the Holistic Healing Handbook, you'll discover:

• Chapter 1: The Mind's Compass - Advanced mental wellness techniques including integrative meditation, sound healing, elemental breathwork, and ritualistic affirmations that reshape thought patterns and create lasting inner harmony.

• Chapter 2: The Symphony of the Body - Somatic movement practices, Ayurvedic self-massage (Abhyanga), advanced breathwork for physical vitality, and grounding practices that harmonize movement, rest, and energy.

• Chapter 3: Nourishing the Spirit - Sacred journaling practices, visualization for manifestation, energy clearing with intentions, and powerful moon rituals for spiritual balance and connection.

• Chapter 4: The Flow of Feelings - Emotional mapping to chart your inner world, Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT/tapping), emotional detox rituals, and compassion practices for building resilience.

• Chapter 5: The Heart's Blueprint - The Mirror Method for relationship growth, conscious communication techniques, intentional boundary-setting, relationship renewal rituals, and conflict resolution strategies.

• Chapter 6: The Art of Living Well - Identifying your core values, digital detox practices, sustainable living aligned with the planet, and creating balance through intentional choices.

  
  

PLUS Comprehensive Resources:

• Guided audio meditations and breathwork sessions

• Downloadable worksheets and templates

• 28-day gratitude journal challenge

• Assessment tools and checklists

• QR codes linking to video tutorials and additional content

• Recommended reading lists for each chapter

• Practical workbooks for visualization and goal-setting

  
  

This handbook is designed for:

• People ready to move beyond surface-level wellness into true holistic transformation

• Anyone who wants ancient wisdom combined with modern insights

• Those seeking practical, actionable techniques (not just theory)

• Individuals committed to aligning mind, body, and spirit

• People who've tried everything and need a comprehensive, integrated approach

Investment: Just $27.99 (A fraction of what you'd spend on consultations, courses, or scattered wellness resources—all of this wisdom in one beautifully designed handbook)

What makes this handbook different:

• Rooted in ancient practices with modern applications

• Includes historical insights and cultural context

• Practical exercises you can start using immediately

• Comprehensive approach addressing ALL aspects of wellness

• Beautifully designed with inspirational quotes and visuals

• Digital format means instant access and portability

[Get Your Holistic Healing Handbook Now] - CLICK HERE

Stop doing what's breaking you. Start building what will heal you. This handbook gives you the complete roadmap.

The things I stopped doing that saved my mental health weren't convenient. They weren't comfortable. They required disappointing people, changing patterns, and choosing myself when every instinct said to keep sacrificing. But here's what I know now: you cannot heal in the same environment that made you sick. You cannot recover while maintaining all the patterns that broke you.

Sometimes saving yourself means stopping the things that everyone else thinks you should keep doing. Sometimes healing looks like letting go of what no longer serves you, even when others don't understand.

If you recognized yourself in any of these patterns, know this: you're not broken for having developed these behaviors. You were doing the best you could with what you knew at the time.

But now you know better. Now you can choose differently.

What will you stop doing to save your mental health?

This article shares personal experience and research-based insights, but isn't a substitute for professional mental health care. If you're struggling, please reach out to a qualified mental health provider.