If you’re reading this, it’s okay to not be okay.
I once read a short story called “The Man Who Thought He Was Dead” by George Bucay. In this story, a man was so crippled by the idea of dying that he eventually convinced himself he was already dead. So, when he did face death, he wasn’t afraid anymore. My struggles with anxiety and depression may be similar to yours or they might be completely different. After all, mental illness expresses itself in a multitude of ways.
For me, my anxiety trapped me in an isolated bubble. I quarantined before we were even required to. I made appearances when appropriate to maintain this image I sought to project, never going beyond this invisible line I had drawn in my mind. When I did choose to be social, my panic attacks would cripple me into a puddle of tears on the bathroom floor.
I found solace in my bed, in the dark, all alone.
Like you, I don’t want to go through life alone. But as I’m sure you can imagine, it’s much easier to reject than be rejected. I think deep down I fought so hard to maintain this perfect ideal I had set for myself that every time I fell short of that image, I took it as a sign to retreat.
To get back in my bed, in the dark, all alone.
I can’t name one sole reason this all began to change for me, but little by little I began to peel myself out of my comforter cocoon. Maybe it was the laughter of a friend, the support of a sibling, or the reassurance that it was okay to not be okay. The little things have so much potential to become the big things. Every day I face things that threaten to put me back into bed. In the year 2020, I lost a dear friend to suicide. I learned that bad things happen to good people, and sometimes the reason why isn’t so clear.
At least not yet anyway.
Grief doesn’t always have to happen behind closed doors. One thing this past year has taught me is that confiding in others is what people are supposed to do. I once had a friend who felt so much guilt for burdening me with his struggles. It’s funny because while he was saying this, all I was thinking about was how many times I had come to him in a similar state. Desperate for someone to listen and care. Why do we expect so little from others yet so much from ourselves?
I wrote in my journal once, “the emotions and memories don’t stop just because your life did.” At the time I wrote this, I was directing a lot of blame. When I read it now, I find myself so thankful that this is true. If you feel the urge to stop fighting, ask for help. There’s no right way to experience grief, sadness, anxiety or depression. There is no right way to help someone experiencing these emotions. Be patient and be kind. There is no set standard to which we must hold ourselves. It’s okay to not meet this image we seek to project. After all, nobody knows what that image looks like except for you. Who’s to say it can’t change?
So, this year I have a new image I seek to project. I hope to be a friend that listens, a stranger that cares, and most importantly, to find peace in knowing that it’s okay to not be okay.
I challenge you to do the same.
Avery E., Clemson University ‘21
