13 Things Mentally Strong People Don’t Do. Amy Morin

      

      Copyright

      HarperThorsons

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in US by William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 2015 This UK edition published by HarperThorsons 2015

      Designed by Jamie Lynn Kerner

      © Amy Morin 2015

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

      While every effort has been made to trace the owners of copyright material reproduced herein and secure permissions, the publishers would like to apologise for any omissions and will be pleased to incorporate missing acknowledgements in any future edition of this book.

      Amy Morin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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      Source ISBN: 9780008105938

      Ebook Edition © 2014 ISBN: 9780008105945

      Version: 2014-12-15

       To all who strive to become better today than they were yesterday

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Dedication

       Introduction

       What is Mental Strength?

Chapter 1 They Don’t Waste Time Feeling Sorry for Themselves

Chapter 2 They Don’t Give away their Power

Chapter 3 They Don’t Shy away from Change

       Chapter 4 They Don’t Focus on things they can’t Control

       Chapter 5 They Don’t Worry about Pleasing Everyone

       Chapter 6 They Don’t Fear Taking Calculated Risks

       Chapter 7 They Don’t Dwell on the Past

       Chapter 8 They Don’t Make the Same Mistakes Over and Over

       Chapter 9 They Don’t Resent other People’s Success

       Chapter 10 They Don’t Give Up after the First Failure

       Chapter 11 They Don’t Fear Alone Time

       Chapter 12 They Don’t Feel the World Owes them Anything

       Chapter 13 They Don’t Expect Immediate Results

       Conclusion Maintaining Mental Strength

       Acknowledgments

       References

       About the Publisher

       Introduction

      When I was twenty-three, my mother died suddenly from a brain aneurysm. She’d always been a healthy, hardworking, vibrant woman who had loved life right up until her last minute on earth. In fact, I saw her the night before she died. We met at an auditorium to watch a high school basketball tournament. She was laughing, talking, and enjoying life like she always did. But just twenty-four hours later she was gone. The loss of my mother affected me deeply. I couldn’t imagine going through the rest of my life without her advice, laughter, or love.

      At the time, I was working as a therapist at a community mental health center, and I took a few weeks off to privately deal with my grief. I knew I couldn’t be effective at helping other people unless I was able to productively deal with my own feelings. Becoming used to a life that no longer included my mother was a process. It wasn’t easy, but I worked hard to get myself back on my feet. From my training as a therapist, I knew that time doesn’t heal anything; it’s how we deal with that time that determines the speed at which we heal. I understood that grief was the necessary process that would eventually alleviate my pain, so I allowed myself to feel sad, to get angry, and to fully accept what I’d truly lost when my mother passed away. It wasn’t just that I missed her—it was also the painful realization that she would never be there again during the important events in my life and that she would never experience the things she’d looked forward to—like retire from her job and become a grandmother. With supportive friends and family, and my faith in God, I found a sense of peace; and as life went on, I was able to remember my mother with a smile, rather than with pangs of sadness.

      A few years later, as we approached the third anniversary of my mother’s death, my husband, Lincoln, and I discussed how to best honor her memory that weekend. Friends had invited us to watch a basketball game on Saturday evening. Coincidentally, the game was being played in the same auditorium where we’d last seen my mother. Lincoln and I talked about what it would be like to go back to the place where we’d seen her, just three years ago, on the night before she passed away.

      We decided it could be a wonderful way to celebrate her life. After all, my memories of her that night were very good. We’d laughed, had