Last week at work, on my way to step outside and let out heaving sobs on my lunch break, I got onto the elevator with a patient wearing a hospital gown, mask, and pushing her own IV pole. I was quite literally trembling, hardly able to wait to be alone to let out my cries, but I could tell by her eyes she was smiling at me, and I soft-smiled back. This woman looked me right in the eye and said with deep sincerity, I kid you not, “You seem like such a happy and cheerful person. Have a great day.” And then she stepped off the elevator.
My initial reaction was…to laugh. She looked at me for two seconds, and decided I was happy and cheerful. I was in the elevator for the sole reason of going outside to cry privately, and she assumed I was the two furthest things from what I felt in that moment.
It made me think about how there is SO. MUCH. MORE. than meets the eye to others. I was having an absolutely horrific day filled with debilitating anxiety and depression. And while I do consider myself a cheerful and happy human, I was most certainly not in that moment.
Because here’s the bottom line truth: I’m not okay right now. A lot of people are not okay right now. I feel most days, that just existing, doing the absolute bare minimum to get by, is a battle. The idea of getting out of bed, doing my hair, walking to class//busing to work, and talking to one person at a time is impossible to me. The thought of having to do that every day brings tears to my eyes, nausea, cramps, heart racing…lights are blurred and more intense. My world feels like it’s crashing down around me. So the idea of socializing? Learning something new at work? Contributing at a meeting? Unimaginable.
And that is my current everyday reality. Nothing short of an absolute, grueling, mental—and somewhat physical—battle between the person I know that I can be (thriving, cheerful, fun) and the person I am currently—crying, trembling, physically ill at the idea of doing anything at all.
I don’t want or need anyone’s pity. My family, friends and close confidantes are the most incredible humans in the world, and they do not pity me. They stand with me, for me, and behind me. I do the same for them. That’s not my point. I want anyone suffering to not feel alone, and I want anyone who desires to help someone with a mental illness be equipped to be a good ally to them by learning from these posts. I plan to have a “good ally” post up on here very soon.
The woman on the elevator stunned me. She was not trying to be rude, or ironic, or hurtful. She genuinely wanted to give me a compliment that she believed to be true. It’s just interesting how deceiving looks can be.
I decided recently my best word for mental illness is a battle. Well? Good thing I’m a damn warrior.
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”
-A
healing, hopeful, helpful 