Anxiety, Sadness, and the Weight of Spiritual Emptiness

 I struggle with major depression and anxiety every single day. Just getting out of bed and taking a shower has the potential to drain me of a lot of my energy. I know I'm not the only person in our community that struggles with mental illness, but sometimes it feels like we're all alone. Sometimes it feels like there's no point in living life, too. 

When I'm dealing with those moments, I usually feel spiritually empty at the same time. It's like someone has come along and drained away all my positive emotions and, in the process, they also took a little bit of my spirit. That's why I've been gone for so long. I'm still struggling, but I hope to be more active in the next few months as I start a couple of new medications and restart therapy. 

Life is always going to be a struggle for me, but I have hope again and I'm going to hang onto it for as long as possible. In moments like these, I feel great comfort from my faith and from the blessings the Gods and Goddesses have provided to me over the years. My point in making this post is this: it's okay to feel spiritually empty. It's a part of life and you'll eventually find your way to the other side. 

Life is struggle sometimes. Our lives are made better when we fight for it, so when you're feeling low and like you can't go on, take that time to recharge your energy. Refocus and reevaluate the things that are working and the things that aren't. And when you're ready, fight with everything you've got to give.

Evaluating This Path - An Introspective Post

Sometimes I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. I know how to cast a circle and call the quarters, can recite the uses of lavender and citrine, and can whip up a crystal grid or a sachet in no time flat. But there's always that lingering doubt at the back of my mind jumping up and down and flashing like a neon sign just screaming "notice me right now -something's not right!"

There are days where I go back, forth, and sideways on what to call myself. Am I Wiccan? Am I a Witch? Can I call myself an Irish Wiccan without the ancestry or living in Ireland? All of these questions typically result in one thing: confusion.

I've been learning about Wicca and Paganism since the age of 13 so I can pretty clearly distinguish the two from one another. I've read over and over again in those 101 books how to tell people that a "Wiccan is a Witch but a Witch is not always Wiccan." That's all fine and dandy, but what of those practitioners that choose not to do any spellcraft at all?

Spirituality is a path of never-ending questions, some of them new and some of them repeating, designed to remind us why we're on this path and whether it might be time to take the fork coming up ahead.

In the past I have identified as Wiccan, Pagan, and Celtic Wiccan. I'm not into reconstructing what the ancients did to every finite detail, but I do have an interest in the historical aspects and like to read as much information as I can get my hands on. That being said, I sometimes wonder if I should classify myself as Wiccan. That threefold "law" seems like a bunch of hogwash to my sensibilities, and spelling "magic" with an additional "k" makes my spelling instinct run amok (as well as spellcheck). I always seem to come back around to "yes, I'm Wiccan," and this time is no different. I am most certainly a Wiccan, and by definition a Pagan. Yet calling myself a Celtic Pagan seems a decrease of all that this path has become for me.

The only thing to do when confronted with these questions is to do your best to answer them. Journal about them. Write a list of favorable and opposing points to clarify your current position. Most importantly of all, know that it is okay to change your mind.

I am a Celtic Wiccan, and a Celtic Pagan. What are you?