Journaling | E7 : The Receipts of My Becoming ⭐

There was a time when the only person I had to talk to was the blank page in front of me.

After my relationship ended while I was in Europe, I came home early carrying more heartbreak than luggage. I felt lonely, lost, and overwhelmed by everything I couldn't say out loud. So I started journaling—not because I knew what I was doing, but because I needed somewhere for all of it to go.

What began as an outlet became one of the most meaningful habits of my life. My journals became the receipts of my becoming: proof of the person I was, the pain I survived, and the life I slowly built afterward.

In this episode, I share how journaling transformed my mental health, why it's become a daily practice, and how you can begin your own journey—one page at a time.

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 0:10

This is what helps you, a mental health podcast. Hi everyone and welcome to What Helps You, a mental health podcast. I'm the creator and your host, Gashavia, a medical doctor and resident psychiatrist. The purpose of this podcast is to talk about mental health from a practical standpoint. I think often that when we talk about mental health, it can be this often otherworldly thing that can seem non-tangible. Like it's something you can't touch. Here's the thing though, it's very tangible. And we live it every day at every moment. For everyone that lives on this planet, we know that life can be hard, full of struggle, and things don't always pan out the way we thought that they would. For instance, I recently moved to a new city, and unfortunately, the month before I lost one of my cats, and it was my youngest cat, Nova. Nova was my actual baby. Every night, me and Nova would cuddle until we both fell asleep. I was planning on having that every night with him here in Philadelphia. But I can't now. I've had a lot of lows recently because of losing him. And suffice it to say, I've been struggling. So has his sister, my other cat Storm. They were pretty close. So why am I telling you this? It's not to have a pity party, but to show you my point that on the daily, we're being bombarded with different life stressors that affect our mental and emotional health. And so our daily mental health is what's most important. That's why I created what helps you. Here, I host amazing people. And we talk about the small habits, routines, and daily practices that get us through the day, helping us in taking care of ourselves, and to make it even more interesting, the amazing stories behind them. Because there's always a reason. And that reason is what gives that practice so much value to each of us. Remember this: there is a difference between just getting through the day and actually feeling okay. My passion is helping all of us to feel okay. So without further ado, let's get started. Yeah, so driving literally, it just makes me feel like I I can I get to keep every moment. Every moment that matters. That matters. I can always go back to it. That's why I called it the receipts of my becoming. So today's going to be a solo episode. I want to share with you all the wonderful world and practice of journaling. I honestly feel like journaling is probably one of the most common social myths in popular culture that exists. And what I mean by that is that as popular culture, Hollywood, and the media mix it through movies, TV shows, etc., they make it seem as if journaling is common practice, but it's not actually that common. For example, in a survey conducted by Psychology Today, roughly 16 to 23% of persons who completed the survey said that they regularly journaled, with about 50%, so half of US adults, reporting that they kept a journal at some point in their life. So less than a quarter of us adults make this a habit. From my own life experience, I would always buy a journal and I'd be like, oh, I'm gonna start journaling. And I'd get into it, and after like a sentence, I'd be like, I'm tired. Like, oh, this is a lot, you know. But recently, something happened. A dramatic shift in my life occurred that changed everything and made journaling so important for me. And reflecting, it's become a center to my well-being, actually. And that's because at a time when I had no other reliable outlet, it was my only outlet for my feelings. So, what does journaling do for me? For me, journaling gave and gives me a platform to let it out. I get to vent out my frustrations, I get to pour my heart out during heartbreak of any kind. I get to celebrate small and big wins. I get to write down ideas expressing my creativity. I'll write and rehearse different affirmations, and interestingly, right, because I'm always just a little bit more interesting. It's also sort of spiritual for me in that I'll write small prayers for myself and for others who I care about in my journal. The amazing thing that I've learned about journaling too is that journaling is a make it your own thing. Like it's not one size fits all. You can write, you can type, you can make voice recordings. Like journaling truly is the wild, wild west of mental health. Like, no cap, it's as diverse as the rainbow flag. And poly too, because I feel like it can't just stick with one type. You know, that's how like inclusive and like evasive and like diverse the practice of journaling is. All forms are included. Kind of like when Oprah gives things away. You know, she's like, you get your own, you get your own, you get your own. Like it is what you make it. So why is journaling so important to me then? Well, let's be honest, right? We're only gonna get so much out of people, and it has nothing to do with how they feel about you because they could have nothing but all the love in the world for you. But it's sort of like that saying that goes, your partner is not your therapist, and not because they don't want to, but because they physically can't. Like, people don't have the time to listen to us all day, and they don't have the energy because, like, bitch, I'm tired. And I had a long day. It's just that simple. We're human and we only have so much battery life and so much tolerance for everything, and that's the cool and amazing thing that I love about journaling. My journal gets to be my forever ear. I get to talk to it at any time of the day, any day of the week, on weekends, on holidays, and in every part of the world, as long as I pack it along with me, and you have no idea how much I need that because I am such a creative and expressive person that I'll get an idea and I'll be like, I need to write this down. Or someone will do something really kind to me and I'll just want to talk about how amazing that made me feel. Or in the reverse, someone will piss me the hell off. And I'll need to throw out a few cuss words, some heifas, trifling, some bitches, and some headasses, just get the negative feelings that I got from them out of me. Because let's assume that this person who pissed me off or hurt me in some way, shape, or form, right, isn't a random stranger, but someone I care about, like my friend or my mom or my boyfriend. What I've evolved to and what I would hate to do is to come at them hot and ready to fight. Like I've learned that when you do that, most likely, given human nature, they're not gonna want to listen, but they're going to immediately become defensive. And whatever point you were trying to go at in your head has now hit a wall. And you know, I mean, TBH, rightfully so. I mean, why should your point hit home when you just came at them completely sideways? So, in those instances, I use my journal to calm down so that I can come to them calm, cool, and collected and say, Hey, I was wondering if we could talk, or however you want to put it, because they do deserve to be treated with respect and kindness. And thinking about it, that's how I would want to be treated too. Like, I'm just saying, if my boyfriend came screaming at me, first of all, like actually, I'd be like, um, you know that meme of John Travolta from Pulp Fiction, where he's like looking around, like, huh? What? With his wallet, I'd be like, How the hell is he talking to? Like the point that he would want to get to me would not get through because immediately I'm like, whoa, what's going on? You know? And to leave you with one lesson, I'll never forget what my mom used to tell me, which is that Kashabia, you'll attract more bees with honey than vinegar. You'll more than likely get the outcome that you want if you approach people with kindness. Unless caveat, their narcissist, at that point, bitch, run. Like, it don't matter. It don't matter. So, how did I find adrenaline? It came out of heartbreak. I was dating this guy, JD, last year in 2025, and we dated for about four months. We talked long distance, and uh, we usually saw each other about every two weeks, which worked for us, though it wasn't ideal, of course. However, as we went on in talking, I noticed a few things that became more apparent. He hated, was uncomfortable with, and chose not to address uncomfortable but necessary conversations around us. As a result, I realized that he had an avoidant attachment style. He was emotionally immature, and he was honestly like it just seemed sort of like stunted in life experience growth. So when I bring up something I'd want to talk about that might be uncomfortable to him, he'd become distant. His communication with me would become less. And the problem was always me, which is a narcissistic trait. And this is me just want to talk about things as they, you know, come up naturally based on the dynamic of whatever relationship was going in that way, you know, that day. And every time though, he'd call me quote unquote conflict prone. So essentially, because I wanted to talk, I wanted conflict also. That's when I realized as well that all that he really wanted was main character energy, cute night outs, and social media clout with no attachment to feelings, clarity, and commitment. Not surprisingly, all this happened after he went to Magic Pride in July 2025, which pretty much is the European gay circuit for like an entire weekend. And I remember him texting me saying, I've never had such an amazing time in my life. And I was like, Oh my god, that's amazing. You know, come to find out, his form of fun was, you know, partying all night, doing drugs with drug addicts, going to God knows what type of sex parties, partying out all night, and literally going back to sleep for maybe two to three hours. And where he got the energy for that, I mean, I think I have an idea.

unknown 13:13

Okay.

SPEAKER_01 13:14

But that's not a fact, it's an opinion. Because how else could you keep going like the energizer bunny? Like at the end of the day, we're all still human and we need sleep. And unless you trick your nervous system into thinking that it doesn't need sleep, you're gonna fall asleep. This is when he completely switched. Like, I remember telling him, James, you've changed. After that, he went from 100 to 10% bare minimum, if that. So, bare minimum that he had invited me to this weekend cabin getaway that he created called Gays in West Virginia, where he and other gay men organized a weekend experience of activities for gay men, which on paper sounds really good. But hold your horses. Everyone else was excluded, meaning that one of his friends transitioned to being a trans woman, a very brave, a very courageous thing to do. And once that shift happened, they were no longer invited, like elite as hell, exclusive, and just plain wrong. But what else can you expect from someone who used to be in the Marine Corps infantry? But he invited me to this weekend getaway, of which, you know, I was hoping would be a good time, but scared at the same time, to be honest, because knowing gay men, at least this has been my life experience, there was a thought in the back of my head of is this a sex thing? Well, it wasn't outwardly, but lo and behold, the underlying tone of that trip was sex. So much that during an introduction speech at the start of the weekend, he gave the house rules. One rule was no sex in public places. All right, so quick teaching point here, guys. Rules are always made because something has already happened. Someone was on the couch, ass, tooted up at the ceiling in the air, and I'll just leave it at that. Maybe it was him and he was caught. I don't know. I was like, damn it. I finally made it to one of these, and I'm stuck because he drove and I'm in the middle of the freaking woods in West Virginia. Jesus be a shield for the entire weekend. He barely said a word to me. Mind you, I didn't know that this was the road he had decided to take in his head because I'd go up to engage with him, making conversation, flirting, you know, like part of the normal. Like nothing was new with me except for the location. He'd give me a one, two-word response, and then he'd like physically walk away, bitch. I was like, This is terrible. Especially after we were talking in the kitchen, and he opens up Snapchat on his phone, and there's I kid you not, a big black penis staring the both of us in the face. Someone sent him a sex DM. And also, as a grown man, how do you have who has Snapchat still? Come on. So someone was sex DMing him on Snapchat, and at this time we were exclusive. Jesus be a shield. I had found myself in that relationship that I had always dreaded being in, and said could never happen to me. Now, the insane thing about that dynamic was that the more he would pull away, the more I found myself trying to reach out and save what we used to have. But that will push him away even more when I should have just let him have what he wanted from the beginning. Space. Now, prior to this trip, right, we had booked a European back trip throughout Europe. And the itinerary that we had made was to head there first after this cabin weekend. So cabin weekend was Friday through Sunday, and European trip started that next day on Monday. So we go to Europe, and the places we plan on going were to Amsterdam, Brussels, Paris, Zurich, and ending it at Lake Como in Italy and then Milan. The entire trip. He would barely talk to me. He talked for the sake of minimal conversation. He's in his phone and the whole time to where, you know, like I was wondering if something was going on with his work because he had never been on his phone so much when we were together before. Then he would look at me in this way that said that he but he pretty much didn't like me. It was so uncomfortable. And it's funny how you can be with someone, right? But feel so alone at the same time. On our last night in Paris, we had gotten back to the hotel, I guess, from dinner, and I asked him if I could ask him a question. The question, to the best of my memory, was this. I noticed that when it comes to us being physically intimate, that I'm the one to initiate it. And I was just wondering, you know, why? His first response was, You're being weird again. Yates shocker to me, but you know, I kept it cool. I kept it cool. I'm a good actor. And then he says, So what you're saying pretty much is that I don't sexually satisfy you. What stop? Who said that? Because I didn't at all say that, didn't imply it. Like that was just left field. He really didn't like the question pretty much, and he went to bed relatively not happy with me. The next day we're checking out to go to Zurich, Switzerland. And before the plan was to get breakfast, he brings up that he's not feeling well and that he's just going to sleep. No shocker, of course, like he wasn't really happy with me. So I go out to get us a cappuccino and a croissant, of which he drinks the cappuccino and he throws away the croissant. Like, uh what a douchebag. Like we head out to Zurich on a train, and when we get to Zurich, it became pretty apparent that he didn't want to be around me. He goes to this cafe after we check in alone and is supposed to come back for us to walk to the restaurant for dinner together. Well, he texted me saying, Hey, you want to just meet me at the restaurant? Okay. He was not directionally inclined, also, I will say. So when it came to GPS, he would constantly get lost. And after dinner, on the way to this lookout point that he wanted us to go to, which I was excited for, we got lost four times, y'all. So at that fourth time, because you know, third time is usually the charm, but I was trying to just I was holding on, you know. So by that point, I was like, hey, baby, let me see if I can figure out where we're supposed to go. In this moment, y'all, I have never seen a man become more sassy in my life. He throws up his hands, rolls his neck, rolls his eyes, pretty much damn near convulsing, and says, sure, if you can figure it out, like okay, like, well, I figured it out because I am directionally inclined, and we head there in the correct direction this time. He goes on a lime bike, and I'm on a lime scooter. This man was going so fast on his bike because he wanted to get away from me so bad that he pretty much loses me in the background. For some reason, mine wasn't going as fast as his. At this point, we're traveling separately. I get closest to the lookout point and my scooter dies, and I'm, you know, all alone. So I have to walk the rest of the way. On my way and closer the stairs to the point where the lookout is, he comes back passing me saying, I can't park the bike up there. I'll be back. Like at this point, dude, why are you even talking to me? Why are we having a conversation? Like, we're obviously past this point, but I say, okay. And at that point, I had decided that I was gonna give him what he wanted, which was distance for me. So I head up the stairs and I don't wait for him. I get to the top and I go to the edge where there's this brick wall, and the view was absolutely amazing. And if you don't believe me, I want you to go to my Instagram reel for March 3rd titled What Makes Me Happy? And you'll see what I mean. The river is blue, the buildings were cute with churches spaced throughout, and we had made it there by around sunset. So the sky was alive with shades of orange, purple, and pink. I mean, picturesque is the word to describe it. So I take it in at the edge, and I want to sit there, but the benches are taken. And I was personally uncomfortable with sitting on the edge of the wall with a more than 100-foot drop to the bottom. So I sit at the bench a little further back under some trees. So, you know, they're unfortunately obscuring the view, but I'd gotten what I came there for. So I was okay, you know, reading my book and taking in everything else on the bench. Well, he comes up and finds me in a heap of pure negativity and continued passive aggressiveness and says something along the lines of, hey, you want to go to the edge and sit? I'm like, yeah, I'd love to. But all the benches are taken. He says, Oh, well, we can just sit on the edge of the wall. Sit over the edge of the 100-foot plus drop wall. I said this in my head. Now I won't lie. The thought does come into my head for a second that this guy does not like me anymore. And at this point, he's not just upset, he's being purposefully nasty to me. Like he's trying to hurt my feelings. So what if, just what if, a story gets back to my mom that I just so happened to fall to my death by accident when it was actually this man pushing me in the Switzerland? Like he was like, This is the quickest way. Sorry, God, I'll see you when I die. So I'm not comfortable with that. Also, I'm black. We don't do stuff like that. I guess I should also say right now that he was white. The kind of white man, too, that does not tan, he just burns. So I say, eh, I don't know. I don't think I want to do that. Again, a level of sass came from him that I have never seen come from a man. He rolls his eyes, rolls his hands up, flips them at me, and walks off. And in that moment, I say, Yeah, I don't think he likes me. Like, what do you want me to do, guy? Like, chase you and say, What's wrong, babe? What can I do? Definitely not. And I want to make this known now because this traumatic experience taught me a valuable lesson. Never again in the history of ever will I chase a man. And in general, don't chase someone who doesn't want you. It's beneath you. So about an hour passes, right? I'm on the bench reading, and the sun goes down. I go to meet him and the conversation is light, courtesy of me. Like I will say, I have the talent of diffusing things, honestly. But it's light because I was emotionally exhausted at that point with him and I just wanted to get through the trip. However, at the same time, y'all, I don't sit on things. I address things. You know, I bring things up to talk about it because I've learned that pretending that everything is fine does nothing good for anyone. So I address the obvious and ask him if he's at all mad at me. He goes into saying, you know, Kshavia, uh, I wouldn't have come to hear it with you if I hadn't known that you were this confrontational. Again, same story. Now call me crazy, but I assumed that if you were in a relationship with someone, or at least on the cusp of that, while dating, that nothing is off limits when it comes to questions and what you all talk about. I would think that you could ask and talk about anything, no matter how uncomfortable, because what kind of hellish relationship would you be in if you could it? He says, Tomorrow, I think we should not be together and do things separately. Mind you, I didn't bring this up. In Amsterdam, he told me that he didn't have the emotional capacity to give me what I needed and wasn't emotionally available, which is pretty much after the fact at this point. He's saying this after the fact of this man being on me, y'all. Like he came onto me heavy, and this just went cold all of a sudden. The son of a bitch. So that was him breaking up with me days prior, though it didn't register for me because I didn't want it to. That was the final act. He then goes on to say that he's gonna walk back to the hotel alone. So it was done. We were about halfway through our European vacation, and he had broken up with me technically on the first day to give him more credit, and sealed the deal halfway through to give him less credit. So I walk back to the hotel alone. I think I have some type of sniffling going on at the same time, and when I get back to the hotel, I say, Hey, I'm gonna go back home. He then goes on to say, Are you sure you're you've already paid for everything here? You might as well enjoy it. And I think at that point in my head, but I don't say it, dude. Are you fucking dense or something? Like, I'm not gonna lie, I've questioned if he's on the spectrum. Enjoy what? You've been nasty to me this whole time, treating me like trash. We're not together anymore, and I have no intention of exploring Europe on my own. Why would I want to stay? Also, to be honest, and this is the nice side of me still taking over. I wanted him to truly enjoy the rest of Europe because he seemed to be having the most terrible time with me on vacation when he barely gets to go on vacations. So for the both of our sake, I decided to go home. I catch a 12 a.m. flex bus, pretty much a gray-on bus, from Zurich, Switzerland to Venice, Italy. And I catch my plane to go home. So I was doing some crying. And at first it was something that I could control. Like I could control it enough to make it to the restroom, and I'd be fine. After a while, though, I could not stop them. Like the tears, they just kept coming and coming and coming. The entire time throughout the airport in Venice, and then London, and until I got back to Alana, I was crying. I don't mean that I was crying and then stopping and crying. I was crying the entire time. Like this isn't an exaggeration. I was extremely embarrassed. But what was shockingly interesting was how many people and complete strangers were kind to me. People would pass me, give me a gentle smile. Or one lady was like, whatever happened, I hope it gets better. Another older gentleman told me it'll get better. And what really shocked me and made me cry a little more was that when I was in Venice and I was past security, this restaurant owner who's a man comes up to me, you know, as I was crying. And I'll say this, you know, I was trying to make it as inconspicuous as possible. Like I was trying to, you know, cry on the low, but it was still obvious. So he comes up to me and he says, come, you know, with this, you know, big Italian accent, and said, What you want in the menu? I got it. So he gave me literally all this food just to eat and like wine to drink. And then I tried to tip him, but he like vehemently refused. But this was such a kind gesture. It was something that honestly melted my heart. Before I left to catch my flight, I told him what happened, and immediately he goes, like he gave me a hug and he said, handsome guy like you, you'll find someone better, and they'll never do that to you. Not gonna lie, I hugged him for a long time because in that moment, leaving Switzerland and being in the airport by myself, I felt so lonely, and he truly gave me company and comfort me. He was an angel. And Gabriel, if by any chance you stumble across my podcast, just know that you were an angel for me that day. So when did journaling come into the mix? Well, I get to Heathrow Airport in London and I notice a notebook in my bag. Mind you, I still felt so extremely lonely. I accumbed Europe with a man and I was leaving by myself. So honestly, I needed someone to talk to. So I take out this notebook and I'm like, let me just talk to the book in a weird way. That was actually the thought that went through my head. I'll read you just a little bit from my first input. August 11th, 2025, London, England. Hey journal, I wish our first meeting could have been softer. I wish I had found you on a quiet morning with coffee behind me and sunlight spilling across the room. But instead, I found you somewhere between heartbreak and survival. Halfway across the world, flying home alone from a place I arrived with someone I thought would be my forever. My heart hurts in a way I don't know how to name yet. I keep replaying everything, wondering what did I do wrong? Wondering how something that felt so real to me could become something so temporary to him. I loved him so deeply, so honestly, so completely. And maybe that's what makes this ache so unbearable. Realizing that while I was loving a future, he may have only been loving a moment. I feel embarrassed, I feel foolish, I feel lost, I feel stupid. But maybe this is why I found you because I don't know where else to put all this pain, and I don't know how to carry it by myself anymore. So that was the beginning. I wrote in this one journal entry a total of 20 pages. And looking back at the entry, I was crying a lot because the Inga smeared from tears. I was able to get it all out, and afterwards, I felt so much better, lighter, firmer, and less burdened. From here, journaling became a way of expression for me. And honestly, now it's fun. But in that moment in the airport, my journal gave me company, an outlet. It acted as my friend. Truly. Speaking of friends, I truly have the best of friends in the world. So if you get to hold that special position and place in my life, this is a shout out to you. I love you. My journal gave me what my friends would give me, but just a little bit more because it would be without interruption, without explanation, without anything else. From this moment on, journaling became what helps me. Now, to brighten things up, I'll share with you my most recent journal entry. Side note, I don't journal every day, just when I feel like it. It's not a chore, it's a hobby. June 1st, 2026, Philadelphia PA. It hasn't been two full days of officially living in Philadelphia, and already something in me feels like it's exhaling. I've barely seen enough of this city to say I know it, but in the small bubble I've begun to inhabit, I feel held. I feel lucky. I feel like I have landed somewhere that may actually have the capacity to love the next person of me into existence. There is something about the weather, the people, the food, the architecture, the rhythm of the streets, the softness of starting over. I know Philadelphia is not technically New England, but there is something about this corner of the Northeast that feels romantic to me. Historic. Eli. Like a place where old things are preserved, new things are possible, and I get to become both more grounded and more free. I think I'm falling in love with the city. And maybe in a way I'm falling in love with the version of myself who was brave enough to come here. Here's to the next chapter. Here's to peace. Here's the possibility. Here's to nothing but the best. Oh, also, I got my first real piece of Philly advice, and of course, it was about cheesesteaks. A Philadelphian told me, listen, in Philly, we don't say let me get a Philly cheesesteak. We just say let me get a cheesesteak. Because you're already in Philly. Keep it simple. Salt, pepper, ketchup, mayo if you're feeling fancy, fried onions, and sharp cheddar. But no cheese whiz. Don't do that. So that's the order of a cheesesteak in Philly. And the spot to go to is De La Sandro Steaks at 600 Wendover Street, Philadelphia, PA. And that's just because I love y'all and I'm your boy. And you know, like there's just no gatekeeping with us. That's how you know I care about y'all. You heard it from the best, from a native. That's how you do it. Come correct. Alright, my loves. That brings us to the close of today's story. So let's slow it down, switch the music up, and take a moment for the reflection. Because before I let you go, I want to leave you with something to carry. So reading that back, I smile because I can hear the difference. The first entry was written by someone who was trying to survive the pain of just being left. The last one was written by someone who had made it to the other side of that pain and is thriving. I'm not at all perfect, but now I live every day with hope. And that is what journaling gave me. It gave me proof. Proof that I was not stuck. Proof that the version of me crying in that airport was not the final version of me. Proof that even when I felt broken, like down to my knees, broken, dumped, and thrown away, left to the curb, that something in me was still moving, still reaching, still trying to find some kind of light. Because in the thick of things, y'all, sometimes we forget that we are changing while we're changing. We are so close to the pain, so deep in that moment, so busy trying to get through the day that we don't always notice the growth happening literally in real time, homie. But then one day you read your own words back and realize wait a damn minute. And baby, that is the power of motherfucking journaling. You get to go back because you have a record which becomes your testimony. That is the gift of journaling. It doesn't just hold your sadness, it literally holds the receipts of your becoming. It keeps tracks of the nights that you thought would take you out, the mornings you still woke up, the lessons you learned, the prayers you whispered, the dreams that came back, and the version of you that kept choosing life anyway. And you know why? Because you're a bad bitch, and bad bitches don't stay down for long. So for me, journaling became more than a habit, it became a mirror, it became a witness, it became a little archive of my survival and my softness and my joy. I see a person who got left in one chapter and still had the courage to begin another. And just like that, we reached the end. Don't be sad, don't be sad. I'll be back, I'll be back. Thank you so much for listening to What Helps You, a mental health podcast. What helps you is created and hosted by me, Kashabi Benitro, your hostess with the most is. And I hope today's episode gave you something to think about, something to feel, and maybe even something to write down. What helped you is created in partnership with Nathan Medina at the Official Infamous Beats. Nathan is an amazing producer and audio engineer, and honestly, the pure wizard behind the show and the sounds here. So, Nathan, I'm so grateful for you. Thank you for being one of the best parts of What Helps You. You can find Nathan on Instagram at Official Infamous Beats. Again, that's Official Infamous Beats. In between episodes, join me on Instagram at Cashavia Beats for a little bit of mental health, a little bit of comedy, and a little bit of me just living my life. And in this scenario, yes, it's okay for you to stalk me a little bit. Respectfully, of course. DM me and let me know what you think of the show, what stood out to you, or if you would like to be on it. After all, this show is about what helps us, and I would love to hear what helps you. Until next time, take care of yourselves, listen to your inner voice, and be kind. I love you. Bye for now.