You get to make up your life any f**king way you want. Full stop.
Part II of my mental health story
I recently shared that I’ve hit the detonate button on my life four times.
I say that flippantly, but it was never in jest. Every single one of those moments came after the quiet realization that something in my life no longer fit. For me, it’s most often been my career. More recently, it’s been the identity attached to it.
And beneath all of that was the realization that I had spent years carefully constructing a version of myself that no longer felt like home.
And if I’m being honest—
I don’t think those moments are as uncommon as we pretend they are.
Most people have experienced that feeling at least once. That subtle internal shift where something starts feeling off before you can fully explain why. The relationship still looks good on paper. The career is still paying the bills. Your life still technically “works.”
But somewhere underneath all of that, you know.
Before I show you what detonating my carefully curated life four separate times has looked like, take a second. Not in a deep, introspective way—just… quickly.
Think about your own life.
The moments where something stopped fitting. The moments where you knew, even if you didn’t act on it right away. Whatever comes up is your business, not mine.
But imma show you mine… via this simple graph for which you can thank my graphic designer*
If you want the juicy details behind each of my resets—and descriptions of the wildly random jobs in between them, from customizing Air Force 1s to majoring in environmental science because I thought I was about to become the next Leslie Knope, to plotting Google Fiber maps and moonlighting as a 5’7” bar doorman—head over to my Instagram.
I really want you to hear this:
you are allowed to start over.
I’m only 34, so I say that with a very median amount of life lived, I’m no elder—but you are allowed to start over.
Leave the job you swore you were only staying at for “one more year.” Break up with Lisa or Kyle. Book the trip to Italy you keep pretending you’ll take “eventually.”
Or, honestly… don’t.
Just make choices that feel aligned with who you are, whatever that may look like. Now, personally, I’m not just someone who starts over. I’m someone who rebuilds with intention.
Every damn time.
So let me reintroduce myself—my name is Kasim, I make films, installations, and prose tied to the human condition, rooted in mental health, often highlighting the things we pretend we’re fine about.
Why, you may ask?
I believe we are living in the midst of a mental health crisis, and most of us are rarely given the space to pause long enough to actually feel it—let alone process it. I know that because I lived it. It was quietly embedded in my past career path, hidden beneath momentum, masked by my success.
There’s an incessant undercurrent of collective anxiety, we all feel it, shaped by war, social unrest, climate uncertainty, and natural disaster. You don’t always notice it right away, but it’s there. It seeps into how we move through the day, how we carry ourselves, how quickly we push past what we’re feeling just to keep going.
Familiar, right?
And when you layer that with the personal weight of navigating your own life: your own expectations, relationships, challenges, identity, etc., it becomes something heavier.
Something much harder to name.
So I’m creating that space, the kind I didn’t realize I needed until I didn’t have it.
Space for people to feel affirmed, validated, and encouraged in whatever they’re dealing with behind closed doors. It’s not always comfortable, yes—I know, but I’m committed to work that will always move, heal, and inspire.
How I’m doing that is a story for next time. This was just a lil’ taste of my reintroduction.
If you’re still here, welcome to what’s next.
Oh and consider starting over, if that’s where you’re at in your life.
— Kasim