Learning to Focus My Light

A Quick Note from Yours Truly: Hey you,

This is not a traditional book. It’s part memoir, part poetry, part artwork—because, well, that’s me. Not traditional and a blend of all things. A beautiful, chaotic mess of thoughts, emotions, and insights. But I have something important to say—something I believe desperately needs to be heard in the world we’re living in right now.

And I need to say it in the ways I know how: Through thoughts

emotions

memories metaphors. drawings. And poems.

This book doesn’t move in a straight line— but neither does healing or life or emotions or really anything human

If your brain doesn’t work linearly, this might feel like home.

I wrote this in a way that made sense to me: Broken into digestible pieces. Through creative expression. In short lines. In a personal, quirky voice that’s uniquely mine.

Also I think the way we write and talk about real things needs to change. Because let’s be honest: Most academic writing is dry as hell. And if you have ADHD or just a short attention span? Forget it. You’re gone by page two.

So I wrote this for the people who usually don’t finish books, like me. For people who crave depth, but need it delivered differently. I believe we can communicate serious, science-backed, emotionally complex ideas in a way that’s actually interesting, creative, and honest

Yes, it’s informal, this is a memoir, after all. But many of my insights are rooted in real research and of course lived experience. I don’t know how to write in a way that kills the soul. And it’s not exactly in my interest to learn.

While I write with emotion, I also write about real things, facts, patterns, and truths

I may not always make a perfectly structured argument, but I’m making a point. A few of them, actually. And I hope they land where they need to

If your brain does work a little more linearly, a little more geared towards an academic tone then consider this a small window into one that doesn’t— one that jumps, spirals, collides, and creates. But I genuinely think that there is something here for you, too. I hope even something you didn’t know you needed.

I’ve woven pieces of myself throughout these pages in the same way I had to learn to weave myself back together in real life.

All I ask is that you come into this with a curious, open mind. I promise the message is powerful. And it deserves to be listened to.

This book isn’t meant to be consumed. It’s meant to be felt. So i hope your along for the ride

-Dani

My Struggle with Just F*cking Starting: I’ve always been someone with a wide, deep, and complex inner world. I see things other people often miss. I feel everything, layers upon layers, and I can make sense of it all inside my head or in my writing. But when it comes to explaining it in a clear, structured way that others can easily grasp… that’s where I get stuck.

My fiance once gave me a metaphor that helped me understand this about myself: He said I’m like a flashlight, I shine so much light, but I shine it everywhere. My insights, emotions, and ideas flood the space around me. They illuminate things that most people don’t even realize are there, but that wide beam doesn’t travel very far unless it’s focused.

Sometimes I need to take that light and focus it, like turning a flashlight into a laser, because the laser travels farther. It reaches people in a different way.

And I realized: It’s not about dimming or shrinking my light. It’s about learning how to focus it—so it can land. So it can connect. So it can actually help people the way I know deep down I’m meant to. Anyways all this to say, I had no clue where to begin, but I knew I had to start and it would somehow fall into place. So this is my hope for sharing these videos and my writings. To focus my light so i can begin to say what i have been wanting to for awhile.

Prologue… I guess. More like a quick summary of events—and my hopes for this world, but for now, I guess, my hopes for this book.

I wanted to die, but I didn’t want to kill myself. I wanted to be able to keep living somehow, but I couldn’t imagine how I could ever live another day as myself.

I was hypomanic, yet depressed at the same time. I had insights, visions, racing thoughts that wouldn’t stop. I had a sense that I was onto something great, and I was. My mind was finally awake to the years I had spent abandoning myself. But within that chaos, and what is supposed to be “euphoria,” I actually felt a profound sense of emptiness, of loneliness, of depression.

It was like I had a manic and depressive episode all at once.

No one ever thinks this is going to happen to them, until it does.

From that day on, I spent my time retracing my steps. How did I get here? How did I go from being the happiest, most empathetic, well-connected, deeply loving, energetic little girl— to becoming a shell of a human?

Someone who lost herself for twelve years.

Had never ending panic attacks for years Who struggled with an eating disorder starting when she was twelve for a few years. Who bounced from relationship to relationship since she was fifteen. Who let herself get abused. Who became a slave to her own demons— so much so that she didnt know how she could to live another day. So much so that she felt totally alone. So much so that she wanted to rip her own brain from her skull just to find a moment of peace.

How does a girl with so much love, so much life, and a put together family end up here?

Well, I will tell you how: It started with inklings of doubt, of shame, of getting diagnosed with ADHD at 12. Medicated. Made to feel that my curiosity, movement, energy, and emotional depth were problems to be solved. I felt stupid, incapable, lazy. I spent the next twelve years trying to be what everyone needed me to be—chasing grades, validation, structure, and stillness. Years in a major and career I did for pleasing others and for proving to myself and probably more importantly, the world, that I could. But I lost the most precious thing in the process. Myself.

I started having severe anxiety and panic attacks every day, wondering how I’d ever live like this. Little did I know that was just the beginning. I finally got into a relationship with someone who seemed to see me in a way no one ever had, which eased the anxiety. He made me feel known and deeply cherished. He encouraged me to find myself again. But he also came with his own wounds, which led to emotionally and verbally abusing me—and eventually, escalating to more. When it ended, I moved back home and had to face the broken pieces of a childhood I’d never dealt with. Years of neglecting myself came to the surface.

Then came the hypomanic episode. And with it, the same old message: You need more medication. But this time, I said no… at first. And eventually later, I really said no.

That’s where my real story begins. The moment I decided to finally do what was right for me. I quit my job and went back to school for counseling—but I left counseling for social work, because I believed in something more holistic. I moved to Israel, something I had thought about on and off for years and was too afraid to do. I met someone who loved me for me. I got off all medication. I reconciled my relationship with my father. And I became a writer and therapist who now advocates for what she truly believes in.

This story is mine—but in my life, I’ve encountered so many others who face the same struggles. We live in a time obsessed with performance, in a system that labels, medicates and attempts to fix the symptoms rather than the actual problem itself.

We’re trying to help, but we’re helping people to temporarily “function”, whatever that means, but not necessarily helping them actually heal.

We say we’re helping people live—but we’re often stopping them from becoming who they’re really meant to be.

I have deep issues with how the school systems are run, how mental health systems define illness, pathologize people who are having absolutely normal reactions to life circumstances and offer medication as a shortcut to healing. And it’s not just about the medication, it’s about how we look at our behaviors.

I’m not against medication—I know it can save lives. I know some people truly need it.

But I also know that stillness isn’t always peace.

That silence isn’t always contentment That “doing well” doesn’t mean someone is well.

That computers also “function” but that doesn’t mean they have the will to do so.

This is a story of becoming. Of learning to trust yourself. Of questioning the systems that surround us. Of refusing the easy way out. Of remembering that suffering and pain is an essential part of life

And what it means to be human.

I hope that by sharing my story with the world, I can help others feel brave enough to bring their own selves back to life.