This too has passed. Four times over.

Dear Friend of Sanity,

I read somewhere that it's impossible for the human mind to imagine a colour that doesn't already exist. Go on, try it. I know, right? If you'd asked me 4 years ago to imagine writing Sanity's 4th annual report, or publishing 200 posts, or responding to over 1,000 emails from lived experience experts, caregivers, therapists, psychiatrists, social workers, policymakers, funders, academics and students, writers, advocates, entrepreneurs, and just all-round lovely souls from 50+ countries...

... I'd have felt similarly discombobulated. Because how the hell does one imagine the utterly unimaginable?

There's been a staggering number of unimaginables since I published Sanity's first edition on December 15, 2020. Getting to personally know my mental health heroes across the world, international media attention, an Oxford fellowship, a funding offer from a global giant that I turned down...

...but nothing makes me feel luckier than the messages I get every single day from you, reminding me why I do this work, especially on days when it feels too difficult and lonely.

Here, listen to Lorraine, a pillar of the Sanity community from the Netherlands.👇🏾 In these 4 years, Lorraine has become much more than a subscriber – she's a friend who routinely regales me with photos of her freshly baked bread (oh they look so good). She's also complete natural at speaking into the camera, as you will see.

Before I show you the video report - please do these 6 things to help me keep going in year 5

I mean 4 years is badass, but 5 years of Sanity will be a batshit crazy landmark, eh?

Here's the thing: Sustaining independent, values-driven work like this is B-L-O-O-D-Y hard. More than ever, I need your support. I really, really mean it. So please do whatever you can. Share that article you loved in your online and offline networks. Become a paid subscriber or make a one-time contribution. Let me know what stories you'd like me to tell. Every bit helps. Download the file below that contains links to help you take action so I can keep Sanity alive in year 5. Thank you.

So, how was 2024?

Usually my annual reports are 1 million-word articles. But this year I'm going to entertain you with a video report instead (yes, this newsletter has lots of videos). A few reasons:

1. I have carpal tunnel from binge watching stuff on my phone, so writing hurts.
2. I showed this video at Sanity's blockbuster annual meet-up earlier this month. Everyone lurrrved it/didn't tell me they hated it.
3. Trying a new format is in sync with 2024's biggest theme for me: learning. Apart from making amateur videos, I'm also planning to learn playing the tabla from my son's music teacher, pinched-hand-nerves willing. So next year, expect a music video.

Here you go then – a neon look back at 4 wild years of Sanity.

Here's a summary. Because video is fun, but come on, did you really think I won't write?

This year life came at me with every axe, hammer, and sewage-water-filled balloon at its disposal.

• My OCD had a deadly flare-up. My psychiatrist ghosted me. I spent months doing almost no work and making very little money.
• Tech glitches and credit card issues torpedoed paid subscriptions. AARRRGGGH. I also had to pester international subscribers to help me meet new KYC requirements. Sorry. 😦
• Some of you told me you'd love Sanity-branded merchandising. What a great idea! But I got exhausted with the constant firefighting and failed to complete the legal legwork to secure the trademark. (I haven't given up; do take the quick survey at the end of this newsletter.)
• Oh and at one point writing about mental health started feeling too heavy, I lost motivation, and even flirted with the idea of shutting down and hiding in a cave (which is entirely possible now that we live in the mountains).

BUT as with every year of Sanity's life, magic happened that lifted me out of the glum.

• We made some real impact in the world this year. I was part of a group that created the first ever WHO charter of rights of people with lived experience in Southeast Asia. I also sat on the advisory board of the Centre for Global Mental Health, where we published an important new strategic plan. Much of my inputs to these projects owed to my conversations with you over the past 4 years – hugs and thank you.
• This one was extra special: Sanity was featured on The Inbox Collective, which is 10/10 the brilliant-est newsletter resources platform on the internet. Thanks Claire Zulkey for speaking with me. Ya'll, check out Claire's newsletter Evil Witches here. And give newsletter oracle Dan Oshinsky a shout if you want help or inspiration with your own project.
• I also got to help dozens of smart and thoughtful people with everything from starting out as independent creators and making sense of the global mental health landscape to lived experience-based perspectives for mental health startups. The feedback was pretty cool too.

• Then I launched two brand-new thingies:
  • The Best of Sanity – a collection of Sanity's most-loved stories in an easy-to-download-and-gift PDF format. I'm chuffed when people share my stories freely on WhatsApp. But how about showing me some love for my effort? Get your Best of Sanity collection here, and gift away.
  • My live learning platform, School of Sanity, also picked up speed. The next session is on December 5. Book your place here.
• 2024's mic-drop miracle came mid-year. I was fretting over a steep invoice from Ghost, the ethically run open source software on which Sanity is built. So I reached out to you – and you helped me raise a chunk of the bill. ❤️
  
  Then, things got really crazy. I wrote a LinkedIn post tagging Ghost – and they replied saying they love Sanity and were giving me a 50% lifetime discount!
  
  WUTTTT?! I mean when was the last time you heard of a tiny independent platform eliciting this kind of generosity from an actual company? I am a Ghostie for life. If you want to start your own platform, don't look anywhere else. Use Ghost.

Make some noise for your wins

We now come to my favourite part of this report.

For our annual meet-up, I'd asked you to share your personal/work wins of the year. I was blown away by your stories – from a trip to the Arctic Circle overcoming anxiety and standing up to bully bosses to getting over perfectionism and rediscovering the love of puzzles. Here are your victories in all their glory (edited so I could fit in as many as possible; scroll below the posters for audio list).

Your wins from 2024, read out by me

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9 epiphanies on community

As I was putting together that winsome list and feeling all sentimental about our little community here, I had a flash of clarity about what that word really means.

You see, community is a much bandied idea in creator circles. Everyone wants to build one. But a lot of us get it wrong a lot of the time. Here are 9 things I've unlearnt about community over 4 years of this journey with you.

1. You can create a community. ❌️
   The community existed long before you. All you can do is find them and hope that they'll let you become a part of them. (Thanks Jeff Jarvis.)
2. The community coalesces exclusively/primarily around your specialisation. ❌️
   While subject matter knowledge is a draw, the community is primarily interested in you.
3. You need to know a lot about your community. ❌️
   No need to do a tonne of community surveys. Remember, you're writing for a market of one – yourself.
4. They will be (super) engaged, and their engagement will be public. ❌️
   Given my topic, a lot of my you engage with me only via 1:1 emails and calls. I'm not always able to publicly show off my community engagement (except at our community meet-ups, which are the most wholesome things on the internet). The feeling of community often must remain just in my heart. And that's okay.
5. They will consume everything/most of what you create. ❌️
   Many of Sanity's long-term community members don't read everything I write. Once you prove yourself to be worth their trust and time, they will continue to be there, even if they go a month without opening your emails.
6. You need to be everywhere. ❌️
   If you have a clear goal and are happy to sidestep the race to scale, you don't need to. I'm off Twitter for over a year now. It used to be my #1 source of new readers. I used to live there. No longer. I don't do Slack, Discord, Telegram, WhatsApp etc either. I don't have a Facebook account and have only a rudimentary Instagram and BlueSky presence. I'm most active on LinkedIn, which isn't a great source of conversions. Once I decided that I value staying small because it protects my peace of mind, I was free from 'everywhere, everything, all at once' mode.
7. They will stay with you forever. ❌️
   They will come and go (and come back). Community isn't fixed. It's alive, dynamic, and always changing.
8. Community is other people. ❌️
   You are also a part of your community. This is easy to forget if you think of yourself as the 'God' who created the community in your likeness. This is when the community begins to lose authenticity and connection and becomes a lecture podium.
9. It's not a real community if it doesn't have thousands of people. ❌️
   20 people can fill a conference room. 200 can fill a small auditorium. 2,000 can fill a small ground. Visualise your community like this. You'll be surprised.

Thank you for the lessons and the love, my tribe. I'll see you soon. Until then, may Sanity be with you.

Cheers,
Tanmoy 🤗

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