This column discusses themes of mental health struggles, relationship challenges, and personal growth. Reader discretion is advised.

As we observe Mental Health Awareness Month, I embarked on a series of personal columns detailing my journey toward improved mental well-being. Having spent a lifetime in survival mode, envisioning the future's potential remains a challenge for me.

Do you dream? I don’t mean the nighttime movies that play behind closed eyelids, but a dream as in a vision for your future? I’ve never given this topic much thought until the question was posed to me. 

Dreaming is a luxury I haven’t been able to afford in my lifetime. The poverty mindset has crippled my ability to strive for more, to be more, or to want more. What good is designing a vision board when it all feels unattainable. I’ve only ever cared if I had enough money in the bank to put food on the table with enough left over to pay bills before a late fee is applied. 

Planning for future happiness is an utterly foreign concept. I’ve spent the past forty-four years putting one foot in front of the other with little regard to the direction or the path because the destination has never mattered. Whether I lived in government housing outside of Pittsburgh, a two-bedroom trailer in Verona, or the house with a white picket fence in Kinston, I’ve been content with what I had because that's the only option available to me. It’s rather pointless to hate one's circumstances when they cannot be changed. 

Poverty teaches a person their inherent value to society by limiting their options. I don’t know how to strive for things, because I don’t know how to want them. I don’t know how to dream for a better future because I don’t believe one exists for me. Finding myself unemployed and homeless would surprise me less than some grandiose achievement.

When I was a child, all I wanted was a full stomach and clothes that fit. As a young adult, all of my desires were centered on keeping my children alive. Now that I’m at the middle of my life, I have the things I once sought. I could die tomorrow and still feel as though I’ve led a fulfilled life because my children are healthy, happy, and secure in who they are. 

There are fundamental things I believe we all must obtain before having the option to dream. It requires a sense of security in the present, and an optimism of tomorrow. When asked what I dream about, or strive for, my initial answer was a little too honest, so I went with something most people strive for and said I want to buy a house.

I don’t know what I want out of life or what I hope to obtain before I die, but I’m also content in not knowing. If I’m missing out on something because I’m not working toward a specific goal, I’m not aware of it. My motto would probably be: hope for the best, but have five contingency plans when something goes wrong.

How does someone who has spent their life in survival mode learn to dream? The reality for me is that I don’t have dreams or goals. It has taken everything I have to learn to celebrate today. Tomorrow will have to take care of itself.