Floating

One of my favorite activities on a hot summer day used to be floating on a raft in the pool. Just passively laying, soaking in all the Sun and the Earth had to offer me. I was utterly content to lay still and let life happen to me.

Credit: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/407646203754040407/

So why does floating now feel like drowning?

I’ve touched on this in previous posts, but it’s so important that I’m going to mention it again. I have always been on a very clear cut path and told that the only way to achieve success was to stay on the path. Every part of my life was a stepping stone that would lead to the next. I was to jump from school to school, and eventually climb a career ladder, with no foreseeable end in sight.

Well, needless to say, I stumbled off one of those stepping stones when I dropped out of college. But rather than try to climb back up, I decided to explore the wilderness around me.

Not being on a path feels like floating to me, and like I said before, floating feels like drowning.

I was discussing this dilemma with a dear friend of mine, and she said something so profound, I felt like I was reading a self-help book.

Why can’t your path just be towards happiness?

I never realized that could be a path. Perhaps it’s not the path in the long term, but for now, I am making the decision to pursue happiness.

I’m not certain what that means yet, but I know it probably involves a lot of therapy and a lot of introspection. Pursuing happiness sounds easy, but it’s going to be the hardest thing I ever have to do, and I can tell it’s going to be a lifelong pursuit.

I can only hope it pays off, and I learn to love floating again.

Off the Beaten Path

Hello everyone! I apologize for my blogging hiatus over the last few weeks. I have been busy making some rather large changes in my life, and I wanted to get some of the chaos settled so I could write with a clear mind. So let’s get started.

Like most children, I was raised from a young age with a certain expectation of the path my life would take. This path consisted of working very hard in school, going to a good college, possibly grad school, getting a good job, settling down, marriage, kids, retirement, etc. For most of my life, I thought these things were what I wanted for myself as well. My unstable sense of identity due to mental illness combined with the ideas about my future that were being spoon-fed to me gave me the illusion that I was making my own choices. These things gave me the illusion that I knew what I wanted out of life.

When I was a little kid, I was really good at school. It came naturally to me. I was a teachers’ pet, straight A student, you name it. My biggest dream in elementary school was to go to Yale. Every subject was my favorite. When I learned how to read in Kindergarten, I would choose reading books over playing with my friends at recess every day. Learning excited me.

As the years went on, however, school became less fun and exciting. With middle school approaching, I was unable to ignore the social chaos that surrounded me. It was suddenly clear that school was not just about learning. Now it was a competition. And being an academically “gifted” child meant that I was expected to be a frontrunner in this competition. The idea was implanted in my small head that success would not come unless I “won”, whatever that means.

This is when panic attacks started. This was my first introduction to sleepless nights spent studying and reading and writing just to get the grades, not to absorb interesting information. This was when I learned the difference between sneaking under the covers with my flashlight in the middle of the night to read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and sitting at the kitchen table until early morning reading a history book with tears in my eyes.

When I finished 8th grade, Valedictorian pin in hand, I thought I had won. I was proud of myself. All my hard work had been worth it. I made the connection that when I overworked myself and deprived myself of sleep, I was rewarded. Since I liked the feeling of validation, I made the subconscious decision to bring this same behavior into high school.

The first two years went about the same as middle school. Panic, anxiety, great grades, etc. Sometime during my Junior year, Depression came out of the shadows. Depression and Anxiety fought in my head every single night over whether I would sleep or do my homework. Whether I would skip school to stay in bed or go to school and suffer. Nothing I did was good enough, but I didn’t have the energy to do it better.

I’ve always thought of having anxiety and depression at the same time as watching life’s deadlines and chaos pass by you rapidly but you are paralyzed with your eyes open and no ability to do anything but watch the world burn.

Those of you who knew me in high school might be thinking, but Julia you had a 4.0 all four years of high school. Yes, and there’s a reason for that. I had given up on the pursuit of knowledge. I opted instead for the art of bullshitting. I didn’t have the energy to perform well, but I was still intelligent. So, I figured out how to do exactly enough to keep my grades high with minimal effort. I would do most of my homework in the car in the morning. I would memorize when the teachers would most likely be checking and I would only do homework on that day. It didn’t hurt that I am a naturally good tester and tests tended to count for the majority of my grades.

When it came time to choose a college, I was terrified of rejection. So, while a lot of the people around me were applying to 10-15 different schools, I applied to 2 random schools that I was relatively certain I would get into. When I got into Saint Anselm, it seemed like a pretty good fit.

I decided to study Education. This is where my unstable sense of identity comes back into play. I never had any clue what I wanted to do. But, some of the people who inspired me most. who cared about me, and who I looked up to as role models were my high school teachers. Subconsciously, in a way I didn’t realize until very recently, I clung onto the idea that I wanted to be just like these people who I idealized, and in doing so I began to mold my own identity after them.

Well, you already know what happened with Saint Anselm. Due to my poor mental health, I began therapy while there and shortly afterward had to come back home and go to community college instead.

Remember what I said about my identity building itself around my role models? Well this came into play again when I decided to change my major to Social Work. I realized recently that this choice was a means of idealizing my therapist and subconsciously wanting to be like him.

So now after a lot of failure, and dropping out of college, I’m left with a huge question: Who am I?

That is the path I’m on now. For the first time in my life I am pursuing a path that is entirely of my own choosing, and it is not the one a 19 year old is expected to be on.

I am on a training program to go full-time at work, moving up and building my skillset while I try to figure out who I truly am.

I am moving in with my boyfriend and we are starting our life together in a more serious way.

While I may not be able to envision myself in any career path long term right now, one thing is clear. I want a family. I have always wanted to be a mother, ever since my pre-school friends and I would play house together. Being a mom is my greatest dream, and I think as long as I have that, I will consider myself successful.

Perhaps most importantly, I am focusing a lot on treatment for my mental health. I’m working on speaking up with my providers about my needs and concerns. And I am devoting a lot of time and energy into working through some of the issues I have been facing.

So, as you can see, I have been busy. I hope you can forgive me for the delay in posting.

Thanks for reading.

The Bottom of a Spiral

Have you ever been in a situation where a simple thought like “I forgot to do my homework” quickly turns into “I am a complete failure and I deserve to die”? If your answer is yes, you, my friend, may be a victim of spiraling.

Spiraling describes the process by which a person takes a thought or event that is not very serious or important, and overthinks it until they work themselves up, often to a point of panic. This is very common practice among those who suffer from an anxiety or depressive disorder. Spiraling can be extremely exhausting for the person experiencing the spiral, and can also make them appear “crazy” or “irrational”.

What causes spiraling?

Spiraling can be caused by a number of things. Most commonly, spiraling occurs when a person is overwhelmed by their situation and cannot handle a stimulus that they experience. This is especially true when the situation or stimulus involves something that triggers the symptoms of your mental illness.

For example, a major trigger for me is academia, or school in general. (For more about this, read my previous post on the topic here). As a full time student, you can imagine how difficult this is for me. So, for some people, answering a question incorrectly out loud in class may lead to minor discomfort and shame. For me, however, if I raise my hand and am told I’m incorrect, my brain immediately goes into crisis mode. I’m stupid. Everyone is laughing at me. The professor hates me. I should just drop out. I’ll never get anywhere in life. Etc. Etc.

This type of mindset can easily turn into a full blown panic or anxiety attack if you are unable to stop a spiral in its tracks.

How can you prevent a spiral?

It is not always possible to stop yourself from spiraling. However, there are a few tips you can try if you notice you are entering spiral territory.

The first step, as is often the case with anxiety, is to regulate your breathing. A large portion of an anxious reaction has to do with breathing. So, if you feel the spiral taking hold of you and you are in a position to do so, follow these steps for calm down breathing.

Breathe in for 4 counts
Breathe out for 4 counts
Breathe in for 4 counts
Breathe out for 5 counts
Breathe in for 4 counts
Breathe out for 6 counts

Continue this pattern up to 7-9 counts, depending on what is comfortable for you. Releasing air slower than you take it in is an easy way to calm down. Doing this process backwards (taking in air slower than you breathe it out) is a natural way that you can wake yourself up if you’re feeling sluggish.

Once you control your breathing, you are in a better state to think about the spiral that is occurring. One way you can quell those irrational self-hateful thoughts is by taking yourself outside of the situation. Imagine that the triggering situation that just happened was happening to someone else instead. Think about what your reaction would be. If you saw someone answer a question incorrectly would you call them “stupid” or “worthless”? Probably not. So consider why you are okay talking to yourself that way.

You can also look at those around you, and chances are none of them are looking at you or laughing at you. And if they are, that says a lot more about their character than it does about yours.

What does lie at the bottom of the spiral?

If you find yourself unable to prevent a spiral, don’t fret. There is still something valuable there. Once you have calmed down (and you will calm down – the body is only capable of panic for up to 20 minutes), you can spend some time analyzing what just happened. Really looking into your worst spirals and darkest moments can give you insight into what your triggers are and what issues you need to work on. The simple question, “well why did that upset me so much?” often has an answer that can be reached with the help of a therapist, and this answer could lead to some great breakthroughs in your recovery.

Flirting with Death

When you are battling severe depression, it can often feel as though you are standing on the edge of death all the time, one stumble away from falling into its cavernous embrace. Sometimes the walk along this cliff can be so painstaking and dreadful that the canyon below almost seems inviting. The empty darkness a welcome relief from the demons that taunt you on the edge.

Depression is like a pendulum, swinging back and forth between the desire to make things right and continue living your life, and the desire to give up and succumb to the illness. Sometimes the pendulum stops in the middle, leaving you with apathy and passivity, not caring whether you live or die.

Every day, approximately 123 people in the US die by suicide (CDC). It is believed that somewhere around 60% of people who die by suicide have a depressive disorder. Without proper treatment, any one of us living with depression can become a part of that statistic. That thought sends chills right through every bone in my body.

This morning I spoke with my therapist over the phone. He asked me questions and I answered them honestly. At the end of the conversation, I was told that if things don’t change in regards to my treatment, that I will have to spend time in a psychiatric hospital this summer. The fatality of this disease that I live with never quite dawned on me until I was faced with this decision.

The truth is, I don’t always trust myself. There are days when I want to live and I’m reminded why I hold hope. There are also days where I drive triple the speed limit and blow through stop signs with complete apathy for the sanctity of my own life. And then there are the days like today, where I have such a deep mistrust for my ability to keep myself alive, that I choose not to leave my bed at all.

What I was able to do from my bed, however, was reach out to a new therapist (one that doesn’t live 300 miles away). An email may not seem like a big deal, but this email was my first step in taking recovery more seriously. Until there was a risk of hospitalization, I thought I was doing enough by taking medication every day and meeting with a therapist once a month. Now it is clear to me that treatment needs to become a part of every aspect of my life. And if anything in my life cannot allow for treatment and growth, then it will need to be temporarily removed.

I need help. I can’t do this alone anymore, and I understand that now. Today is the day that starts my long road to recovery. As of right now, I am not stronger than my depression, but with treatment I can get there.

My Therapist Saved My Life

DISCLAIMER AND CONTENT WARNING:

This post will be talking about suicidal ideation. If this topic is triggering for you, I recommend you do not continue reading.

I would also like to note that this post is extremely personal and as such it is hard for me to share. I don’t have trouble disclosing many things about myself, on this blog or otherwise, but this topic is admittedly difficult for me. Please be gentle with this work, as it is taking a lot of courage to share it with you. I share in the hope that my voice may encourage other people, or at the very least make someone feel less alone.

“Julia, I am not going to let you die from this.”

These words were spoken to me by my therapist in the middle of a particularly bad mental health crisis. I had just disclosed to him for the first time that I was struggling with fleeting, but very real, suicidal thoughts. These words are part of the reason I’m alive today.

Suicidal ideation isn’t part of every person’s struggle with depression, but when it does appear, it could be fatal if not properly addressed.

For most of my life, suicidal ideation wasn’t on my radar. “I would never let it get that bad,” I would tell myself. I quickly learned that these matters are not always in our control.

The first time I experienced suicidal ideation was as a direct result of the first SSRI I was prescribed. For those of you who aren’t aware, certain medications for depression can in some cases increase depressed mood and even cause suicidal thoughts in young people. The shift wasn’t immediate, but gradual. I first noticed a lot of physical side effects, including nausea, vomiting, and insomnia. These didn’t go away, and the symptoms of my depression didn’t improve. So, my psychiatrist decided to put me on a higher dosage, at which point I began to feel passively suicidal.

A Note on Passive v. Active Suicidal Ideation:

The easiest way I have found to explain the difference between passive and active suicidal ideation is this:

A passively suicidal person would be prone to say things like “I wish I was dead” or “I hope I get hit by a car.” Pay attention to the key words “wish” and “hope”. Another way some people have described passive suicidal ideation is that they wouldn’t go out of their way to seek death, but if they were in imminent danger, they aren’t certain that they would move out of the way.

On the other hand, an actively suicidal person might say something like “I want to kill myself.” An actively suicidal person also typically has a plan and at least somewhat of an intention to carry it out.

While active ideation may be a more immediate threat, both types of suicidality are incredibly dangerous and neither should ever be ignored. It is also worth noting that it is easy for a person to shift between the two types, and there isn’t always a clear line between them.

I have only experienced active suicidal ideation one time. I won’t go into detail, but I will say that I felt so alone and so tired that I thought it would be better to just disappear. I thought my symptoms would last forever and I didn’t want to suffer that pain anymore. I couldn’t imagine a positive change. I thought it was too late for me, and that if I wasn’t there it would make life easier for everyone else.

Let me be an example to anyone struggling right now that it gets better. What I didn’t realize was that even if my depression is chronic, the symptoms don’t have to be. There is always another solution. You can never see the light when you’re in the middle of the tunnel, but please trust me that it’s there.

Small things could save your life. Seek these things out. Always have something to look forward to, even if it’s just the next day’s sunrise. My therapist probably didn’t know that he was saving my life when he said that simple sentence, but the knowledge that someone was promising to keep me alive took some of the burden from my own shoulders.

Please, be that person to those around you in whatever way you can. Listen to them actively and do your best to provide support in the ways they need it. There are entire courses on how to address people who are experiencing suicidal ideation, but at the core of it is to remember that they are people. They are people who are hurting and lonely and need kindness. Be present and don’t worry about saying the exact right thing. Encourage these people to seek medical attention and be supportive and present throughout the incredibly difficult process.

If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation, or just need someone to talk to, please reach out to me or contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.

Opening the Door for the First Time

Hello!

My name is Julia, I’m a 19 year old college student, currently living in Southern New Hampshire, and I am clinically depressed.

…

Not your average introduction, but if I am going to accomplish what I have set out to do with this blog, then we are going to need to be open and honest.

I have been experiencing depression and anxiety for most of my life, but have only been receiving treatment for a few months. One thing I have noticed time and time again is that people don’t want to talk about mental health.

Depression is an icky word. It’s meant to be whispered, to be thrown in a box and shoved under the bed. But here’s the thing: depression is a grower. And depression feeds on the darkness. The further you shove it down, the bigger it’s going to get.

So, that’s where the goal of this blog comes in. I want to open the doors to a wider discussion about mental health, so that those who suffer from mental illness can face their daily battles without shame or fear.

So feel free to introduce yourself, and look forward to some more content in the near future!

open door — **“The door on which we have been knocking all our lives will open at last.” – C.S. Lewis**

Becoming Your Own Therapist

Since I moved home in December, I have only been seeing a therapist monthly. For the most part, this system works for me, and I am able to practice self care in between these sessions. Today I’m going to share an example of how I cope with treating my own depression.

One of the main fears I have been struggling with recently is the fear of a relapse. I have been in a very good place recently. My medication is doing what it’s supposed to. I’m constantly learning new coping skills, like meditation, to improve my self care. Despite these wonderful things, I have found myself living every day in fear. Fear that when things are good, they can only get worse.

When you’re living with chronic clinical depression, relapses are common and pretty inevitable. Even when depression is being managed, you never know when another episode could appear. This is something I have been struggling to come to terms with.

The other day I was sitting in class and, like the good student I am, I was ignoring the lecture and writing in my journal. I was writing down all my fears and really ruminating on the bad feelings. Then, I began to combine my experiences in therapy with my minimal human services education and decide to make the time more productive.

In my experiences, I’ve learned that having a plan is crucial to navigating tough emotions and experiences. So, rather than call my therapist or seek outside help, I decided to see what I could come up with on my own. So here is my three point plan to combat my fear of relapse.

Making the Most of Every Day

In order to really live my life fully while I’m not being weighed down by depression, I need to use my time productively and in a way that ultimately serves me. I don’t mean productive in the sense that I need to be working all the time, but instead that I should spend less time scrolling endlessly through social media and more time doing things that bring me peace and joy. I could apply this by taking more walks in my free time or setting aside more time for meditation and yoga. The important point here is not to “waste” my good days. If I live every good day to the fullest, then in the event of a relapse I hopefully won’t feel guilty for wasting my good days.

Listening to My Mind and Body

The second step to overcoming my fear of relapse is to pay attention to what my mind and my body are telling me. My goal here is to notice potential warning signs before they overpower me. If I can do this, I will be able to get in touch with the right people and potentially alter my medications before things get really dark. This step is more about preparation than anything else, as well as learning more about myself and my symptoms. I strive to be really conscious of my own self and sensitive to changes in my body and mind. Of course, sometimes we can pick up on things that aren’t important or meaningful at all, but in this case I choose to err on the side of caution.

Remembering the Past

Finally, I must remind myself consistently about what I have been through and overcome in the past. It’s never pleasant to recall my darkest moments, but it can be helpful to remember that I made it out alive even when I had no hope left. It’s also important to remind myself that with every stumble and every relapse, I learn new skills and tools that will help me through the next one. Since my initial diagnosis 8 months ago, I have become so much better equipped to address my depression than I was before I began receiving treatment. Every moment I learn something new about myself, and every day I learn a new way to address depression in my life. So it is with this continued learning and a whole lot of hope that I strive to be resilient, despite the likelihood of a relapse. Without this hope, I’m stuck living in fear. And is that really living at all? I’m lucky to be alive, and I will seek gratitude for my life every day.

A Snapshot of a Good Day

I woke up on the floor of my friends’ dorm room in New Hampshire, feeling refreshed. After leaving the beautiful and sunny college campus where I used to call home, I drove to my long-awaited monthly therapy appointment. The appointment was full of laughs and happy tears, breakthroughs about my progress, a general air of hope and recovery. When our time was up, I smiled my way down the hall with my glossy eyes and full heart.

I got in my car and got ready for the long 3 hours of driving ahead of me. The whole drive home, I smiled and thought about how proud of myself I was and how far I had come. I sang along to the radio and smiled to myself about how unexpectedly things could change for the better.

As I got closer to my house, getting off the highway at my exit, I passed by a playground where I spent a lot of time when I was a kid. I had the thought: Man, I wish I could just go swing right now. Then I realized. I can go swing right now.

I parked my car and stretched my legs, headed for the glorious, shining swing set on the edge of the park. I swung my legs, out, in, out, in, getting accustomed to the now unfamiliar motion. As I gained momentum, I lifted myself high up in the air, overlooking the semi-busy street. The motion became repetitive and soothing, taking on an almost meditative quality as I focused on the feeling of the breeze on my face, the metal against my fingers, the depth of my breath, as I continued to swing my feet out, in, out, in.

When I felt fulfilled with this activity, I walked through a field of trees, past the basketball court, and to the softball fields. I spent a lot of my childhood at these fields, sometimes on them, sometimes watching my sisters from the bleachers. I walked through the gate and sat down inside the dugout, saying a quick prayer of gratitude to God, and then took off again. I ran around the bases of the field, noticing how much smaller it seemed compared to the last time I was there as a child. I felt a certain nostalgia about those Spring afternoons spent at the softball fields, not in a sad way, but instead in a way that really connected me to that feeling of innocence and purity that I associate with early childhood.

I grew tired and took off yet again, this time headed for the ocean. I walked through the tall, unkempt grasses until I stood on a dirt ledge overlooking the beach. I sat down cross-legged on this ledge and looked over into the sea, feeling the cool breeze against my face. I closed my eyes and began to meditate, focusing on connecting with my breath and feeling the energy that circulated through my body, releasing itself in the palms of my hands. I noticed every feeling, every sound, and every thought, feeling so present and mindful of my current situation. It was refreshing to devote time to realizing this feeling and striving for it, especially considering how caught up I often get in the responsibilities of day-to-day life.

I let my hair down, letting the wind blow it whichever way it pleased, and I began to sing. No audience, no one around to hear me or to judge me. It was immensely freeing to be alone and doing something I enjoyed with no fear and no expectations. The wind and the waves were like a perfect orchestra, and the grass a perfect audience.

As I walked back to my car and drove home, I reflected on the time I had spent, which was no more than an hour, and I began to realize how simple self-care truly can be. Self-care is that which makes us feel good, energizes us, and prepares us for life’s challenges. And as I sat down to do schoolwork after my walk through the park, I felt more prepared than I had in a long time.

Self-care is different for every person, so I urge you strongly to seek out the things you want to do, and the things that make you happy. Take risks and don’t worry about judgment. You know yourself better than anyone knows you.

Where I’ve Been and What I’ve Learned

Hello readers! It’s been a long time since I’ve written here. Long enough that the blog has been infiltrated by my best friend, Katherine!

All jokes aside, I would like to sincerely thank Katherine for writing on here, and commend her for her bravery in sharing her stories with the world. Look forward to more of her wisdom, experience, and beautiful writing on here in the future.

Today I want to talk openly about the time that’s passed since my last post. Where I last left you, I was deep in a depressive episode. I quickly realized that this depressive episode was as a result of unwelcome side effects of a new antidepressant. But no worries, I’m on a new pill now and am feeling a lot better.

This period of time since moving home to CT has been a time of realization and growth for me. The biggest realization I have made is one that shocked me. I realized that I made the right choice in transferring home. This came as such a shock to me first of all because it was the opposite of what I had been telling myself since the move. And secondly, this is the first time I have had a positive opinion on a decision I made.

I recently read a book by Don Miguel Ruiz called The Four Agreements. The premise of the book is that every person is raised from early childhood to agree to things about the world. We agree to the meanings of words and to proper social etiquette. We don’t get a choice in these agreements as children. However, along with the innocuous agreements, like the meaning of the color red, come agreements about ourselves based on what is said about us or inferences we make about ourselves. So if someone tells you that you aren’t good enough growing up, you’re going to believe and internalize that, and ultimately agree to it subconsciously.

The reason I bring up this book is that it helped me to realize that one of the agreements I have agreed to is that I am not good or smart enough to make my own decisions. I won’t make the smallest choice in my life without consulting everyone in my sphere of conversation. This applies to anything as small as an Instagram post, to anything as large as a career choice.

The problem with having this mindset is that when you consult everyone, you are going to get a thousand different answers and opinions, none of which are your own. And then you’re faced with the equally taxing task of deciding who to listen to. Oy vey.

So, this is the first agreement I am making the conscious effort to break out of. I am doing this in small ways, like resisting the urge to send all my friends desperate pleas for outfit advice. Then, there are also the big decisions, like my decision to move out into my first apartment in the coming months. (Hopefully more on this in a future post!) I am striving to make decisions that I think are best for me, even if I don’t have anybody backing me up. The scary part about this is that if things go wrong, I only have myself to blame.

That leads me to another important thing that I am realizing, which is this: It’s okay to make the wrong decision. It’s acceptable to do the wrong thing. Another point made by Ruiz in The Four Agreements is that other animals receive one just punishment when they do something wrong. On the other hand, we humans will punish ourselves over and over again for the same mistake or screw-up. As a person living with depression and anxiety, this resonates particularly clearly with me.

The truth is, our mistakes inform our future decisions and lead to growth and healthy development. Accepting that mistakes are not failures is an important step to change your habits of punishing yourself excessively. My advice is to let yourself sit and reflect on the natural consequences of the mistake. Don’t lie to yourself about the badness of the thing. Accept it for what it is. And then it’s time to move forward and let the mistake remind you to make better decisions going forward.

Crisis Survival and Self Care

You’ve probably noticed it has been a while since I’ve posted. That’s because I am in the midst of a particularly bad depressive episode. So what better way to convince myself I will make it through than to construct a mental health crisis survival guide? This post also serves as a reminder that self care is not always yoga and bubble baths. Sometimes it’s a lot more mundane than that.

Hygiene:

Try to shower/bathe. If you can’t stand in a shower for very long, sit down. If you can’t wash your hair, utilize dry shampoo and water. Use deodorant at the least.

If you can’t brush your teeth for a full 2 minutes, do it for 30 seconds. Swirl some mouthwash. Chew sugarless gum.

Run a brush through your hair when you are able. Tight buns and ponytails are great for keeping your hair tidy in between brushes. Neat hair can make you feel more put together.

Life/Responsibilities:

If you’re in school, go to class. Even if you sit on your phone the whole time. Even if you fall asleep. Just go and try to be present. At the very least you will get credit for your attendance.

If you need to take a mental health day, prepare adequately. Call out of work as far in advance as possible. Get notes from a classmate or your professor. Know what you will need to make up when you get back and weigh if it will be worth missing or not.

You don’t have to explain yourself in detail to your peers or coworkers. It could be as simple as “I’m not feeling great right now” or “I’m not in a good place.” That way you aren’t disclosing anything you’re not comfortable with, but you’re still letting people know there is something wrong.

Relationships:

Let loved ones that you trust know what’s really going on. Even if it’s just reaching out to a friend or family member to tell them you are in a mental health crisis. That way you know you are not alone, and it could take some of the weight off your shoulders.

Don’t feel obligated to respond to messages, but don’t ghost your friends and family either. You may be going through a hard time, but self-isolation rarely helps anyone, and most times will make your situation worse.

Self Care:

Get outside. Even if it’s just standing in your front yard or driving to the store. Getting some sun on your face can be vital to getting through a hard time.

Interact with people. Call a friend, go to any public place. Exchanging hellos with the cashier at the grocery store is better than sitting alone in your dark bedroom.

Take care of your health. Take any medications you need to take. Get a healthy amount of sleep. Eat what you can. You deserve to be physically healthy, even when you’re mentally unwell.

A Note on Trying v. Perfecting:

Many people, myself included, have the unhealthy mindset that if you aren’t going to do something perfectly, you might as well not do it at all. However, when navigating through a mental health crisis, it can be hard to fully commit yourself to anything, even the simple stuff. For that reason, it is important to understand that it is 100% okay to “half-ass” the things you have to do. When you can’t clean your room, picking up one shirt is better than doing nothing at all. Reading half of your assigned reading is better than nothing. It is okay to attempt and not reach your goals, because you are still moving forward.