Hello, my name is Carly, I’m a Gemini, and I feel empty inside sometimes. But, I don’t let that be the end of the world, and when I wake up the next morning, I still deliberately put an intentional interruption of happiness in my path. It has been a journey getting to this point, let me tell you, but it’s been completely life-changing. Let me explain.

Yesterday there was a post in one of my Astrology Facebook groups that said, “tell me your Sun sign but without actually saying it” – and it led to some interesting descriptions of the zodiac signs. One described Gemini (my sign) like this: “I need a constant flow of mental stimulation, otherwise I feel empty inside.” 

I was quickly triggered. Empty inside? Me?? I felt, as the kids say these days, personally attacked. There was instant pushback from inside my being. I’ve learned to recognize my own defensiveness as an indicator that there’s something there, something that probably wants to chat with me and talk more about that defensiveness. I don’t wanna go there – but that resistance tells me I should. So this morning, I intentionally sat down with my defensiveness to the idea of feeling empty inside. I allowed it to tell its story. And as I listened, I realized that “empty inside” is exactly what I had felt the night before. I was defensive to the concept because it was pinpointing exactly how I was feeling at the time.

I was defensive to the concept because it was pinpointing exactly how I was feeling at the time.

Emptiness is an uncomfortable feeling, but something I’ve learned throughout this whole process of leaning into life and loving myself is how to ride the ups and downs of my energy. I first attempted to gain control of those ups and downs in my late teens and early twenties, when I was diagnosed by two doctors with bipolar disorder and was prescribed medication. After about two years of that, it was with this prescribed medication that I attempted to end my life by overdosing. Thank God, thank Source, thank the Universe, thank ME it didn’t work.

I saw numerous therapists and doctors and the answer was always to medicate. I did that for a while and during that time things were not better – they were worse. I can only speak for myself and no one else, as we are all so different and have our own unique needs. I cannot emphasize that enough. But my overdose attempt was the end of the medication for me. As I was coming down from the intensity of that experience I decided it was time to taper off the meds and see what I was capable of without them. I was open to any natural remedies and alternative ways of healing, and it definitely took a few years of figuring it out, but now, almost a decade has passed that I haven’t used pharmaceuticals to treat any of my energy disorders. 

My suicide attempt caused a major shift in perspective, and in 2016 when I was venturing back down the road of depression toward suicidal thoughts, I knew it was time to go back to therapy. I went in July of 2016, and this was the therapist who gave me the Deservability Treatment – a real turning point in my journey back to myself. As soon as I began to read through it, it instantly became clear that I did not love myself. As much as I would have liked to believe that I did, I didn’t – and I could feel that so clearly. I took the treatment home with me and I read it to myself in the mirror every day, twice a day, for sixty days. Two months. And my life was forever changed.

It just so happened that I also discovered Abraham that same weekend I received the deservability treatment (Divine timing, am I right?) and it all came after waking up the previous Friday morning feeling so Done. Done with feeling bad, Ready to feel good. I was open and receptive to anyone or anything who could show me how to live a happy life, and I completely surrendered to that. In the words of Abraham herself – ask and you shall receive. Enter Abraham Hicks and Louise Hay’s deservability treatment, and most importantly, enter ME. Me loving myself. The most critical piece. We can seek teachers outside of ourselves all day long but until you connect with yourself, and really love and trust and respect yourself, your toolbox is essentially useless. That’s why these particular lessons from Hay and Hicks were so golden and SO what I needed. They turned me back to myself and showed me how to rebuild my self worth and confidence, so I could move forward in life and really use the tools I’d learn along the way.

We can seek teachers outside of ourselves all day long but until you connect with yourself, and really love and trust and respect yourself, your toolbox is essentially useless.

You are worthy of everything you’ve ever dreamed of simply because you are alive. You deserve that. Period. It’s true for all of us, and it’s our choice if we want to believe it or not. I couldn’t really believe it when I started this process, but I started to believe it when I was first able to get through the deservability treatment without crying, and I believed it even more when I read the treatment and actually smiled at myself in the mirror. The list of things that made me happy was short at first, but Abraham was one of those things. Every time I listened, it made me feel better. So I just kept coming back to it, intentionally interrupting each morning with a little happiness, which often included listening to Abraham. Every day, bit by bit, my world shifted and I slowly began to see myself differently.

I bawled like a baby the first time I read through the deservability treatment in the therapist’s office, and that’s not an uncommon reaction because what it does is it pokes and prods the wound of unworthiness, the feelings you hold about yourself that say you aren’t worthy. It stirs that all up, and it makes you cry because it hurts! It’s truly painful. Lack of deservability is a heart wound, so it won’t matter how much other people love you – because you can’t feel that love any more than you can feel it for yourself. You’ll be looking for love in all the wrong places, always outside of yourself instead of within. That’s where love truly comes from – within.

…it pokes and prods the wound of unworthiness, the feelings you hold about yourself that say you aren’t worthy.

Once I announced to the Universe that I was ready to live a happy life, I was immediately given the tools to form a practice, a routine, around cultivating my self worth and self love. It all shined the light back toward me, showing me that loving myself was the only way forward, and that I was the only one who could do it. It was an inside job. With consistency in my practices, plus true readiness and presence on my part, change gradually happened. It became more and more difficult to get sucked into a rut of depression and darkness, and my low periods got shorter. I started noticing the difference only a few weeks after beginning this process. 

These deliberate interruptions of happiness each day have safeguarded me from a return of long-term depression. And while I can’t say I’ve “cured” my depression (it’s only been four and a half years, after all, and I sure hope to have many years of life to go!) I can say that I feel increasingly more capable of riding out the lows. As I ride the wave of my energy, I’m learning to remain present and peaceful during the times when my waters are still, when I feel neutral, and maybe even “empty.” I confess that I love life’s delicious highs – those moments full of creative flow and ease of expression. That’s definitely my preferred state of being, but when I embrace that state and ride the highs to the fullest extent – then I’m tired. I spend every last ounce of the energy rush, and then I’m back to basically just chilling on my surfboard in a flat sea.

That part is not nearly as engaging. There’s more “being” and not as much “expressing” or “doing” and I admit, my Gemini self still ties some of my worth to those things. Emptiness, for me, is the state in between the highs and the lows. It doesn’t necessarily feel “good,” it might even feel a little uncomfortable (especially if you have high Gemini energy!), but it doesn’t have to feel bad either. When I’ve used up my energy rush in a high state of creative bliss – the tiredness that follows, the stillness, is the end result of that. 

My Gemini spirit wants so badly to go from one lovely unfolding to the next and the next and the next. But I’ve learned that what I really need is to go from one lovely unfolding, to rest, and then to the next lovely unfolding, and then to rest. I was initially defensive about the comment saying Geminis feel empty without mental stimulation, but then I realized that the emptiness and the rest period go hand in hand, and that’s okay. It’s nothing to be freaked out by! Embodying a higher vibrational expression of Gemini energy means not acting out during those periods of boredom, emptiness, tiredness, stillness. I used to stir things up during those times just so that I could be more mentally stimulated. But now that I can see the down period as a result of riding the high so powerfully and so joyfully – I can appreciate the need to rest. To refill my cup after enjoying every last drop of the beautiful energy it contained.

But now that I can see the down period as a result of riding the high so powerfully and so joyfully – I can appreciate the need to rest.

Allow the rest period, the feeling of emptiness, to hold space for your cup to be refilled. Deliberately place intentional interruptions of happiness on your path each day to raise your overall frequency, and be consistent, but then capitalize on those highs. I’ve learned to ride the wave when it comes and then to be okay in the down time, the stillness that follows – and to appreciate both for the beauty that they are. How do you embrace your emptiness? Or sit in your stillness? Let me know in the comments section below!

Thank you for reading, dear friends! Find more articles like this one on the Owning Authenticity blog and hear more stories on my i Learned podcast. Explore the rest of my offerings on my website www.owningauthenticity.com

Content from Episode 10 of the “i learned…” podcast by Carly Whorton, adapted by Maddie Billings