A Faith Perspective on Mental Health and Finding Purpose

I'm sitting here at my standing desk, vibrating plate humming beneath my feet, family visiting from Chile filling our home with joy—and yet my mind feels anything but peaceful. It's one of those moments where I could easily label this as just complaining, but I've learned that naming our reality is the first step toward understanding it.

The Satisfaction Treadmill

There's this pattern I've noticed in my life that feels like running in place. I accomplish something meaningful, feel that brief rush of satisfaction, and then—almost immediately—I'm searching for the next thing. The fulfillment lasts maybe a few minutes before restlessness creeps back in. I know I work hard, I know I get things done, but somehow it never feels like enough.

Maybe you've felt this too? That sense of constantly chasing the next achievement, the next milestone, the next moment of feeling truly fulfilled?

When OCD Thoughts Hijack Everything

Lately, my OCD thoughts have been particularly loud and intrusive. I tried coping by taking a nap, hoping for some mental reset, only to wake up with those annoying voices even clearer in my head. It's exhausting when your own mind feels like it's working against you, especially when you're trying to be present for the people you love.

I find myself longing for what it might feel like to have OCD-thought-free moments—to experience that calm mood without the constant mental chatter, without feeling sleepy and drained all the time. I want to move my body more, to get that energy flowing (hence the vibrating plate), but motivation feels elusive when your mental bandwidth is already maxed out.

Finding God in the Chaos

Through all of this, I keep returning to prayer and conversation with God. There are these incredible moments—like gusts of wind—that seem to lift me to another mental space entirely. Suddenly I'm creating, learning by doing, feeling like my only purpose is to serve Him. Those moments are pure gold because they remind me what it feels like when everything aligns.

The challenge is that I know these moments have both a beginning and an end. I find myself praying for the satisfaction to last just a little longer, for the peace to stick around past the immediate experience.

The Bigger Picture

I'm starting to believe that maybe complete satisfaction isn't meant to be found here on earth. Maybe that constant "something's missing" feeling isn't a personal failing but part of the human condition—evidence of the curse we're all living under. We're always wanting more because we're designed for something beyond what this world can offer.

That thought brings me both comfort and challenge. If we're always going to be swimming against the current, fighting waves that threaten to break things apart, maybe the goal isn't to stop the waves but to learn how to ride them. To become so detached from earthly belongings and temporary achievements that when the waves do crash over us, we're still anchored to what matters most.

Perspective from Two Worlds

Having family here from Chile has me thinking about the difference between how we approach life and satisfaction in the U.S. versus other places. Here, everything is immediate access—the latest this, the newest that. We're caught in cycles of capitalism and consumerism that promise fulfillment through acquisition.

It makes me cringe sometimes, how easily I get pulled into wanting the next thing that some clever marketing campaign convinces me I need. There's so much more to life than that endless cycle of desire and purchase and temporary satisfaction.

The Dopamine Trap

Speaking of cycles—I've noticed how much TikTok and constant digital consumption fog up our sense of reality. Those little dopamine hits from other people's problems and manufactured drama pull us away from what's actually happening in our present moment. They're genuinely dangerous in how they shape our expectations for stimulation and satisfaction.

Moving Forward with Hope

So here I am, knowing exactly what I need to do next but finding myself procrastinating instead of acting. It's frustrating and human and probably exactly where God wants to meet me—in this messy, imperfect space between knowing and doing.

My prayer is that one day I'll be fully whole, fully satisfied with my purpose. That feels impossible to achieve completely on this earth, but I hold onto the hope that when Jesus comes back and puts everything in order, that longing will finally be fulfilled.

Until then, I'm learning to ride the waves, to stay detached from temporary things, and to keep my eyes fixed on Him. Even when the satisfaction only lasts a few minutes. Even when the OCD thoughts feel overwhelming. Even when motivation feels absent.

Because if God has His hands in it—and I believe He does—then it has to be worth it.