I say I'm okay, but I'm not. Thus, a liar. I think they all know that I'm not really okay. But I'd like to think that it's in a way that IS okay, if that makes any sense. Like, I'm not going to jump off a great height, I'm not going to end things. I'm not even going to hurt myself or binge drink or take illegal substances (damn being too evolved and concerned for the health of this body. Ugh, gross). There is just not a lot of spark in me right now. Not a lot of joy.
I'm spending a lot of time vacillating between several states: I am the void, the void is calling, I am avoiding.
And the moments were things actually feel like they are improving only for fatigue or pain to slam me back down again.
It's heavy. So heavy. And I am so fucking tired.
The thing is that nothing is wrong! Things are better than they have been in ages for my loved ones. I think I've just been holding on for so long, navigating us through one crisis after another that now that things have apparently settled my body and brain are reacting. I am excellent in a crisis, but there is ALWAYS a come down, and at this point I guess I've been in crisis mode for two plus years, so the come down is really fucking rough.
I've noticed this trend that when I am struggling my jaw is clenched all the time, physically and mentally. It's like there is so much toxic bullshit in my brain that is desperate to claw free, but I can't let it. If I let it come out, I might fall apart. If I let it slip that I'm not okay I might fall over and be unable to get up again.
Logically, I know that I always get back up. I don't seem to know how not to. This is a good thing, right? Though sometimes I think that if I could just stay down for longer, I'd get a lot closer to being okay.
I just don't know how.
I've found that it gets to the point where little things slip out in voice messages to friends, or phrasing I use. It's not hard for them to notice. Hard for me not to confirm that actually I am close to being a quivering mess. It's this toxic mesh of perfectionism, masking, responsibility, need for independence/to not be a burden. The desperate desire to just be okay for a change. I've been trying really hard to be more honest about it with people I feel safe with, and so far, it's been well received. I'm reminded that I am loved. I am cared for. That other people want me to be okay and will make time for me if that's something I think will help.
Eventually, I slip. It all slips. Tears, words, me curled on the floor sobbing in emotional, mental, physical agony.
I think I've forgotten what thriving looks like because I've been in survival mode for so very long now. And that's a hard place to come out of.
So, I've come here to say that I am not okay, and hope that in doing so, I can loosen the screws on my jaw, and it won't hurt so much. That I can speak more truthfully about what is going on with me, because I feel like I am in general an authentic person. But I AM also a liar. A lying liar pants. Because I don't want to be a burden, and I don't want others to hurt because I'm struggling, and by now I should just be able to pick myself back up again and get on with things (and I will, I promise I will, I always do).
That said, isn't it in part my job to protect at least my kids, and my loved ones, from the mess that is my head? It's not THEIR job to make it better. I never want that to be the case. How can one be honest without also oversharing or traumatizing others with their stuff? It's a line that I find hard to tread sometimes. It's either all falling out of me in gooey chunks, or it's locked up, and I haven't learned how to be normal about it.
I keep seeing those stupid messages around the place that say 'It's okay to not be okay' - which, fine, yes, let's normalize talking about the ways in which we aren't okay, but also at what point does it stop being okay to not be okay? When do we switch from it being okay, to having it impact all the other levels of our health? (which it does, trust me, I know. It's too late for me)
Having just been rejected for counselling via the public health system, I guess I'm still 'okay 'enough for them not to think I need to see someone.
I mean, they're wrong, but what do I know? I only have to live in my head with all of these stupid thoughts.
Today I unclenched my jaw and told someone where I'm at. It helped, I think. But resulted in several rounds of sobbing and blotchy red skin, but at least the intrusive thoughts are quieter. The problem is that so many people are struggling right now, and I am used to being the support, the lifter upper, the donkey who shares the load.
The donkey whose back is now broken, but who keeps on plodding, keeps on offering to take the load... It’s just who I am. I want those I love to be okay, I just need to stop letting it be at the expense of my own okayness.
I'm so tired.
I will keep on going though, because that is what I do. I'm 44 and I'm still here, still breathing, still learning how to be okay.
This is extremely relatable.
I'm not okay, either. And I understand what you mean about not wanting to be a burden.
The thing is, being open about struggling doesn't make you a burden. That is just what society would have us believe.
Everyone struggles at times, and everyone needs support. Even us.
I’ve been pondering that question (at what point does “it’s ok to not be ok” turn into action?). I’m favouring moments of quiet rebellion, action, and plain talking, but I think there are systemic issues with our structures and there’s a big power base to overcome for meaningful change. This is why I still drink gin.