It’s Okay to Not Be Okay

Social media has us fooled that everything is rainbows and butterflies all the time. Even if we know that people only post what they want the world to see, we somehow are convinced that those people are always happy. If you’re sitting at home, depressed, binge watching the same TV show for the (literal) tenth time, you may likely ask yourself, “is there something wrong with me?”

While there may indeed be something wrong with you or within your life, this is entirely valid. It’s okay to be fucked up. People are messy. I don’t have the answers for you, but I want you to know that it’s okay that you’re not okay. You’ll get there.

I’m teaching myself this lesson right now. I’ve never really been okay, but in the throes or depression it can feel impossible to feel normal.

Take care of yourself. You’re gonna be just fine.

The World is a Mess, it’s Okay to Be Excited About Mundane Things

If you pull up basically any news website, the landing page will likely be covered in doom and gloom: hurricanes, wildfires, corrupt politicians, celebrity gossip. It seems like there’s a never ending stream of awful things happening all around us.

In this world where we’re surrounded by chaos, how do we cope? Do we have to be obsessed with every breaking news story on our Facebook timeline and Twitter feed?

The answer is no!

Self care is incredibly important, now more than ever. Whether you have to unplug your cable box, delete your accounts on social media, or avoid the subject in friendly company, do not for one second feel bad about it.

No matter what’s going on in the world, someone else’s suffering doesn’t negate your own. 

This is one of the most important lessons I’ve been taught throughout my life. When it comes to world affairs, events fall into two basic categories: things you have control over and things you have no control over.

If you have the power to elect someone new to improve the well-being of your town, state, or country, then by all means dive right in and learn as much as you can about the issues and act accordingly (vote, rally, petition, whatever).

If you have no control over the suffering of those effected by a natural disaster or the decisions of a person already in power, it’s perfectly fine to not involve yourself in it at all. There’s no reason you should torture yourself or let your mental health suffer over things that are out of your hands.

And you shouldn’t feel bad about it for one solitary second. 

This is your reminder to take care of yourself. You don’t have to “accept the things you can’t change.” because sometimes those things are extremely unacceptable. Even if some people want to say that posting/sharing information about issues all over social media is “slacktivism,” sometimes it’s all you can manage. But if you personally can’t do any more than that, you still did something. You can only do so much and you shouldn’t stretch your spoons on those things when you have your own life to worry about.

So if you want to drown out all that doom and gloom with a pumpkin spice latte, or a Netflix binge session, or internet memes, by all means do so! It’s 100% okay to like things that are seemingly meaningless– obviously it means something to you. 

The moral of the story is: do what you can. But don’t overextend yourself. Enjoy your pumpkin spiced life.

 

Some Days, The Loss of a Parent Hurts Worse

Today is my mom’s birthday.

I’m not going to call her, post on her Facebook wall, or send her a card.

I lost her in March of 2012.

Losing a parent as a teenager/young adult is an absolutely surreal experience, and one that can’t be adequately described unless you’ve experienced it. It’s different than losing them as a young child, or as an older adult. It’s like a phantom limb that you keep trying to use and are reminded isn’t there. You’ll never fully be out of that grief, that alternate reality– it may not hurt like an open wound, but it will always be an underlying ache like a bruise or especially deep scar.

Sometimes you wake up after dreaming about them and it feels like you got punched in the gut. Sometimes you see their face in a sea of strangers. Sometimes you catch a passing scent and it’s exactly what they smelled like. I even see accents of her face in my own when I look in the mirror. And some days are definitely harder than others.

What I’ve found though, is that these feelings and experiences translate through and between others. When you meet others who have been through your same loss, it’s very relatable.

I’ve also realized that how others respond doesn’t change much, either. No matter how long it’s been, the default response is “oh my gosh I’m sorry” whenever I mention it. I get it, most people don’t know how to react. I understand you mean well. Unless I’m telling you in an emotionally intimate sense, though, I prefer a low-key response or no response at all. It’s nice to have sympathy at first, but after a while it’s just a grim reminder of how horrible it really is. Even just a “sorry to hear that” or “that sucks” is better; empathy can be more comforting and appropriate, especially in a more casual setting.

What is different is how each person grieves, and how long it can take for them to reach a comfortable point to talk about their experience and whether talking about it is a form of healing.

It’s been six years, and it’s still difficult to talk about. It’s still difficult to even think about. I was 17, about to graduate high school and turn 18. I feel like I lost out on a lot of important moments with her– graduating high school, moving to college, buying a house, even just introducing her to the amazing people I’ve met in my adult life.

I guess the point of all this is a bit of healing for me, and a bit of comfort for others who are in similar shoes. I’m trying to open myself up little by little in hopes that I’ll be more comfortable with my personal reality. I think the if you let a little bit of your heart show, it can help you find others who can empathize and relate with you.