Crazy Welcome Here

I don’t think anyone is ever eager to reveal their vulnerabilities to the public. We want to maintain an image, a reputation. As a Personal Marketer and Coach, this is at the forefront of every conversation I have with a client. Your story matters. What other people think of you has consequences.

Over the past few years, however, I am realizing more and more the contradiction in my work and, more importantly, my life.

Recently I have been told by a Psychiatrist that I am going through what he termed as an “acute depressive episode”. Not something most people would share with their closest friends, let alone social media. I get that. Mental health is an extremely personal issue, and it shouldn’t be taken lightly how promoting our problems “on air” is a bit self-indulgent.

But so what? For me, not only has sharing intimate things with the world been therapeutic through some seriously hard shit, but, most significantly, it has proven to be a valuable contribution to some. Various times throughout my journey of “self-discovery” on this platform, others have reached out to say how meaningful – even critical – it has been to know they aren’t alone. That something I have offered has given them a safe space to feel normal, or validated, or “ok” in some way. To me, there is no bigger value I can bring to the world then the opportunity for someone else to feel better.

Lately some of those I care for have experienced mental health-related traumas that have dramatically impacted their lives. Loved ones they cared about have suffered, sometimes secretly, from mental health challenges that, in the end, have been seriously consequential. Life threatening. Fatal. To me, the tragedy of this is profound, and I understand how much of this can be contributed to a general lack of understanding – stigma in our culture around it, and lack of space to discuss it. To share it. To allow for it.

Mental health has always been an “issue” of consideration in my life. My family has a history of it, as do I, and I have seen it play out in consequence with family, friends, neighbours, everywhere and in everyone. No discrimination.

And yet we are so afraid to talk about it. So afraid of what it might mean if anyone knew. So afraid of what to say to those experiencing something we don’t understand.

But it’s just not quite normalized yet. Death and craziness. No one wants to talk about it. No one knows how. I had a friend the other day explaining to me that when she went through a loss in her family, one of the worst parts of living in a small town where everyone knew you was that people avoided you. During your time of suffering, you became isolated and alienated. Not because people are unkind or selfish. Because they literally don’t know how to handle it. They don’t know what to say. There is no comfortable protocol. And after going through childhood cancer, I can contest to that. How do you possibly know what to say to a mother who lost her baby? Better to avoid the situation altogether.

But what if it was something we recognized as “normal”? I can tell you, the more our society advances into technologically-dominated structures, the less our animalistic brains will be able to handle it. I see it in kids – this crumbling of healthy coping strategies to deal with the chaos of stimulus and choice. And in adults. We don’t know what to do with ourselves. Our nervous systems just can’t handle it. We break down, or we numb out, or we distract ourselves with anything and everything we can get our hands on not to feel that sense of uncertainty and lack of control.

Instagram scrolling. Online shopping. Overworking. Overexercising. Overeating. Under sleeping. Video games. Alcohol. Cannabis. Cocaine. Just please not that awful feeling that exists in the silent space between, where everything feels a bit too uneasy.

Where did my “depressive episode” stem from? Probably a lot of things. But regardless, it is something I am now coping with, amid a life that continues to expect things from me, continues to push me to perform. Afterall, I’m a COACH. You don’t call in sick to a coaching call in which you are to motivate someone to face their fears, play big, be better. You have to exemplify that shit. You have to come out guns blazing. You have to Get. Over. It.

I am currently listening to David Goggins audiobook “Can’t Hurt Me.” I’ve been meaning to listen to it for awhile. Because, in my mind, I have become “a pussy”. Once upon a time, I was the Owner of my life. I took my fears and told them where to stick it. I conquered shit. I lived it up. I didn’t let anything be an excuse not to live my life. Not to be happy and engaged and IN it.

But through the years, this has worn away. I am a sliver of the person I used to be in this regard. I have Panic Disorder. I have Social Paranoia. This from the girl you couldn’t keep home – couldn’t even keep in Canada – because there were too many people too meet and too many fears to conquer.

Mental illness is a strange beast because it is so easy to demonize and misunderstand. If you break your leg, it’s pretty easy to see what accommodations need to be made. What to say when you see someone “sick”. What to do when someone gets the flu, or contracts the chicken pox, or is diagnosed with cancer. You take care of them. You say things like, “I’m so sorry you are sick. I hope you get better soon. What can I do? Bring you soup? A coloring book for the hospital? Calamine lotion for your itch?”

But a mental itch – how do you scratch that? What if that mental itch causes you to rage like a wild animal and the neighbours think you should be taken away from your kids and the in-laws they are trying to entertain in the backyard? What if your mental pain causes you to want to withdraw from the world and you slowly stop being invited to things and people assume you are snubbing them or avoiding them or just too damn much to handle? Afterall, who wants a Debbie Downer killing the party vibe?

It's not anyone’s fault that there is stigma surrounding it all, and in reality, when someone is an emotional mess, taking out their shit on you, or behaving in socially unacceptable ways that potentially cause harm or insult or injury, what are you supposed to do? Allow that to just be ok?

I’ve been thinking a lot about all of it. How does a society navigate what is becoming a pandemic but can’t be mentioned? What are we supposed to do with all this crazy?

Maybe Crazy is the New Black. I don’t know. All I know is that it is what it is, and I am trying to take that same approach I took when Violet was ill. “This, Too.” For me, it is less of a liability than some might think. In fact, my challenges with working with mental illness informs my ability to be compassionate with others, to understand clients and meet them where they are, to recognize that even the highest performing people in the world are, in some way, struggling with a lack of balance in their body, brains and hearts. We are all human, and I think the insurgence of mental illnesses is a reminder that we are all fighting the same fight.

David Goggins presents one way to look at it – mind over matter. No excuses. But sometimes we are deep in the weeds and have to accept that we are broken. We need to heal. We need to let it be ok that we struggling. We need to share it, talk about it, normalize it. That is also how we own it without letting it own us. That is how we don’t let the matter overtake the mind. My body might be in constant fight or flight right now, but I can’t let that be the end of the story. And I can’t hide in my corner hoping it will go away. There is a process to things, and in order for that process to move through it needs air. It needs to breathe – be out in the open. Vulnerability, as they say, is a profound expression of courage. We need to be brave by owning where we are. Not everyone will understand. But haters be haters no matter what the context.

Right now, everything is hard. Some days, it just hurts to breathe. Sharing this exposes me, but I think for something like this, that’s critical for healing. Darkness breeds darkness. I need to get it out into the light. And I hope that in doing so, it brings light to others that may stumble upon this and feel “normal”. Things can’t be crazy if we are aware of it, if it fits into the context of society.  Pain belongs – it’s part of it. We have to stop running away from it, hiding it, judging others for it. We are all moving through pain in one way or another. The more space we make for it, the less suffering comes along with it.