My Belief In Meditation Got Me Through My Hard Times

There’s an aspect of meditation that’s rarely talked about, but one I believe is crucial. And that’s belief in the practice itself. I’m not talking about blind faith or spiritual fantasy. I mean something deeper. A gut-level knowing that—even if it’s not working yet, even if you’re not getting the results you want today—if you stay with it, if you keep learning and refining and trying… meditation will show up for you when it matters.

That belief has saved my life.

I felt like quitting meditation on day one

Let me take you back.

It’s the early 2000s. I’ve got Britney Spears posters on my bedroom walls, Return of the King is dominating the box office, and I’m holed up in my room playing N64 too terrified to talk to all but a couple of close friends because speaking to people makes me feel like I’m walking on nails.

At the time, I thought it was just social anxiety. I didn’t know the full scope yet. But I knew I was drowning.

Then one day, my drama teacher suggested meditation. And I listened—because I respected him, and because somewhere deep down, I’d always believed there had to be a way to calm the storm. So I gave it a shot.

And it didn’t work. Not at first. I didn’t feel peace. I didn’t feel grounded. I felt like I was doing it wrong. I felt like quitting, as so many people do.

Why Most People Lose Faith In Meditation

When you’re hurting and meditation doesn’t help right away, it’s easy to toss it aside. Most people don’t have the luxury of patience when they’re in pain. But what they really lack isn’t time—it’s faith. Faith that if they stick with it and learn to make it work for them, something will shift. 

Take a look at the list below and consider if you’re struggling with any of the issues.

Most Common Reasons People Stop Meditating

Why I chose to stick with meditation

Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe it was desperation. Or maybe it was that one quiet moment—backstage, my heart pounding—when my teacher said gently, “Close your eyes. Breathe. Just be here.”

I did. And for a few seconds, the noise stopped. It wasn’t bliss. It wasn’t healing. But it cracked something open. I got a glimpse of presence. I felt inner peace for maybe the first time in my life. And I believed there was more.

That moment planted the seed of belief. And that belief would carry me through some of the hardest moments of my life.

There Were Times When Meditation Felt Pointless

There have been times in my life when I felt like completely giving up on my meditation practice.

In my thirties, I was formally diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and cPTSD.

And my first thought was, Seriously? After all the hours I’d poured into meditation—after everything I’d done to heal and stabilize and grow—I was being told I had two of the most painful, difficult mental health conditions there are? Was meditation just a waste of time then? It felt like it.

It felt like a slap in the face. Like, okay, meditation doesn’t work, clearly… I felt betrayed.

But after the dust settled, and after talking to some damn good psychologists, I realized something. The only reason I’d been holding it together as well as I had—the only reason I was functioning at all—was because of meditation. It hadn’t failed me. It had been keeping me afloat in waters far deeper and darker than I realized.

It felt backwards at first. I’d been meditating and now I have BPD and PTSD. But in reality, no. I had always had BPD and PTSD and meditation had kept me alive. Okay. Faith rekindled.

That belief held firm again when my father died.

We had a complicated relationship, and his death shattered me. I couldn’t just sit on a cushion and breathe. The grief was too raw, too jagged. Meditation felt like a lie—like some weak spiritual bandaid trying to cover a gunshot wound.

Those were the two most challenging times when my belief in meditation was challenged. But, of course, there have been other times, like losing my job, going through breakups. At times like those, it’s easy to think, What’s the point? Meditation doesn’t help me with this.

But every time, I came back.

Because underneath the disappointment, underneath the temporary disillusionment, was an unshakable belief. And I think that’s where most people get stuck. They hit that wall and walk away. But if they had the faith to stay, to explore, to adapt, they would find that the practice still has more to give.

How & When To Change Your Meditation Practice

Sign You Need to Change Your Practice	How to Make the Change
You constantly feel bored or restless during sessions	Try a more active form of meditation, like walking, chanting, or mindful movement
You’re not seeing any emotional or mental benefits	Explore compassion-based practices like loving-kindness or tonglen
You dread meditation or avoid it altogether	Shorten your sessions or switch to guided meditations to re-spark engagement
You’re stuck in repetitive thoughts or emotions	Use journaling or mindful reflection before or after meditation to process experiences
You’ve been using the same technique for months with no change	Experiment with different styles (e.g., breathwork, visualization, mantra, zazen, etc.)
Meditation feels like just another task or obligation	Reconnect with your original “why” and infuse your practice with intention and meaning

What I Do When Meditation Disappoints Me

First, I take my foot off the gas. I don’t force it. I don’t guilt myself into sitting. I breathe outside of practice. I give myself some space.

Then I reflect.

Even when I’m disappointed, I remind myself: meditation has still given me so much. Even if I’m hitting a hurdle, that doesn’t mean I should throw in the towel. Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater

Pro Tip: Write a list of all the ways meditation has helped you in life. It will rekindle your motivation

Next, I look at my practice. Usually, it’s not meditation that’s failing. It’s that I’m using the wrong technique for the moment.

Like when I had social anxiety, and I was doing basic breathwork. It helped a bit, sure—but it didn’t touch the deeper fear. Eventually, I explored compassion-based techniques like loving-kindness and tonglen, and those created real change. They shifted how I related to people. They turned strangers from threats into fellow human beings I could feel with.

With BPD, it was even more complex. BPD is regarded as the single hardest mental health condition to treat. There’s no one-size-fits-all. I had to build an arsenal—techniques for self-soothing, techniques for emotional regulation, techniques for forgiveness, grounding, inner child work, all of it. You can read about those on this very blog. But the point is: every time I hit a wall, I didn’t quit. I adapted.

Because I believe meditation isn’t just a habit. It’s an art. And if you treat it like an art—with curiosity, sincerity, and commitment—it will reward you.

What to Do When Meditation Feels Like It’s Not Working

1. Pause Without Guilt: Don’t force it. Step back, breathe, and give yourself space.
2. Reflect on the Benefits: Remind yourself how meditation has helped you.
3. Reassess Your Technique: It’s usually not meditation that’s failing—it’s the method. Check if your current technique fits your current needs.
4. Adjust Your Approach: Try techniques better suited to your situation (e.g., loving-kindness, tonglen, self-soothing, grounding, inner child work).
5. Stay Curious and Adapt: Meditation is an art. When you hit a wall, don’t quit—adjust and keep exploring.

If You’re On The Edge Right Now…

I say this with love and with truth: chill.

Take a breath. Step back. Don’t listen to anyone who says you have to meditate every day without fail or you’re not serious. That’s not real. That’s not honest. That’s shame disguised as discipline.

Instead, ask yourself:

Are you giving yourself the space to reflect? Are you treating meditation like the deep, nuanced art that it is? Or are you stuck in a technique that isn’t serving you?

If it’s the latter, shift. Explore. Learn. There are so many techniques. Thousands, even. You owe it to yourself to find the ones that work for you.

And when you do—when you really dig in with faith and persistence—you’ll realize that meditation is more than just sitting and breathing. It’s a lifelong companion, a source of resilience, depth, and presence that nothing else in this world has given me.

My belief in meditation has been the anchor in a life lived with two of the most brutal mental health conditions out there: BPD and PTSD. And even when those conditions dragged me through darkness—rage, grief, fear—I still had my practice. I still had my belief.

Without it, I’d be lost. I might still be alive—but I’d be a shell. A heartless automaton dragging himself through a meaningless routine.

But I’m not. I’m here. Living. Feeling. Growing.

And meditation—belief in meditation—is the reason.