earlier this week, i posted online about my having a rough time. i was experiencing feelings of anxiety and all the things that come along with the mental fluctuations of life. i revealed i hadn't washed my hair for 3 days (normal - though certainly not pretty. i hate washing my hair). i hadn't slept consistently for months, and had less sleep in the past few days, than in a very long time (i have struggled with insomnia for most of my teenage and adult life, so this happens from time to time, and simply adds stress and weight to any other existing pressures in a life). i generally indicated that things were not in a good place from the mental health perspective. you can read the full note here.
by way of diagnosis, i'm not a clinical case for incredibly high levels of depression and anxiety - while i'm sure we all experience situational anxiety and depression, as well as other mental health issues that impact our lives. i'm not medicated, nor do i do a great job of seeking the help i need (we all could use) regularly. instead, my mental health fluctuations are at a 'functional' level, and they rear their ugly head in different ways in my life. my personal ups and downs are also highly exacerbated by a year (this one - 2016 i'm sorry to hate on you) which was a difficult path in learning to ask for help.
when i shared my state - and my commendation to those 'functioning' with serious serious levels of mental health issues, and chemical imbalances over which they have no control - i personally felt a weight lifted. my partner has encouraged me in a few ways to 'lighten my load' in the past months, and the feeling of opening up ones soul, and sharing with the world, and showing imperfections had an astounding affect on my own personal perfectionism. it lightened me.
the fascinating thing though, wasn't that. it wasn't how it made me feel, and it wasn't how i felt in the hours/days after. it was the way people reacted.
the responses to my online sharing were varied in nature. the majority of people were caring and kind and supportive on a (very authentic and) surface level way. perhaps those people felt it would be intruding to get too deep. or perhaps some didn't care to, whether because they were disinterested, or because becoming involved would have further aggravated their own issues. perhaps even some thought it was a cry for help, or a need for attention. and all of those things are ok.
then there were people who reached out. they offered their version of support - for some people it was talking about their own experiences, for some it's sharing what has worked for them, in their version of a 'down'. some people i didn't know well at all, or i thought had given up on me. some people who didn't have the words, and still shared that. people who sent messages, made calls (even if i didn't pick up), or even a small icon of a heart, showing it was worth enough to them to pause.
i think those were the reactions i expected. while i didn't share where i was emotionally and mentally, for those showings of love and support, it certainly reinforced for me that that is why sharing is needed. a reminder that people haven't given up on you. people care. people love you. but those reactions i somewhat anticipated. and for all of those people, i am appreciative. the people who i didn't think i was that close with - i now feel connected. and those who i thought i had isolated - i felt relieved and lightened by the weight i had put on myself.
what i didn't expect were the other two reactions.
first, those who thought that what i had shared meant i had fallen so low, i couldn't climb out. those who thought i was sharing out of desperation. and while these reactions were loving and thoughtful and whole, they caused me worry. i shared my thoughts that day because i felt strong enough to be vulnerable. i shared because i felt like stepping into a new counselor's office - one who i researched, and interviewed, and made notes for, and pep talked myself for - was a moment of light in a year that has been incredibly difficult. i shared because part of me pulling myself together is not plastering a fake smile on my face, until it turns into a real one - pulling myself together finally meant admitting i needed help and i couldn't do it on my own. and sharing for me, finally felt like a step in the right direction. a step in the direction of control, and compassion for my head and my heart, and a step in a direction i could be proud of for myself. so i worried about these reactions because i worry that we - as a collective 'people' - will only offer help and support when someone is at their worst. when someone has hit the bottom. and the thought of that scares me. when someone hits that point - when someone is at their 'worst' - they are no longer going to reach out. they are no longer feeling capable of the strength required to open their hearts up to people. it's for those people we need to be kind and loving and inquisitive, and involved all the time. and so while those who were concerned and convinced i was unvieling my deep dark depression from which i would never recover, i was deeply concerned by the reaction of those. those who assume sharing means weakness. sharing means something to be fixed. sharing means damage.
but more importantly. my favourite. the small group of people who reached out to share that they could relate. not those who shared with me their experiences with anxiety and depression, and OCD, and difficult moments in their life, be it daily, or sporadically - though MAN, those people helped. moreso, it was the people who reached out to tell me they could relate because life just seemed to be a little too much right now - but the spiral was pulling them further and further from 'good' days, and they were beginning to struggle with being able to see the light at all. it's the people who saw the recommendations that others gave, and sent me notes to tell them that they had needed that recommendation for their own first steps, but didn't know how to ask.
it was the person who sent me a note sharing 'i am feeling those feelings right now. thank you for being more brave than i am'.
and i received that note, and cried a happy (mixed with so much sad as well) cry for the first time in months (after, of course, a great conversation with that brave soul). THAT. that is why. that is why we share. we share because it's a lonely world - even if you believe you have YOUR mental health together. and loneliness is only combated by a hand to reach out to.
that's the thing about mental health - everyone has it. all of us have these amazingly wonderful days where everything is right, and everything makes you smile. and all of us have these terrible, rotten days where nothing seems right, and it's difficult to simply put one foot in front of the other. and all of us have some level of other days in between - and some parts of some days are broken up into ups and downs. and some of us have more of certain days than others - or some of us have a harder time controlling those ups and downs, and how many days go in between them.
and that's all normal.
it's normal to be ok, and it's normal to not be ok.
we're not alone. and the more we share where we are, and who we are, and what is inside of us - on the good days and the bad - the more we open a doorway to the people who have a harder time. the people who perhaps didn't feel strong enough on their first counselling appointment, to reach out for a little bit of love from their support group.
it's ok to not be ok.