We're Not Jokes

I'd like to consider myself a mental health advocate. I know what it feels like, the reactions you can get from others, and and how all that affects who you are.

I'm also a follower of Jesus, which traditionally doesn't quite match up with mental health advocacy.

Here's why....

I live with my grandparents. They are Portuguese and don't speak much English, so communication between us is not the easiest. The language barrier prevents us, or just makes it a little tougher to talk about our lives, so to be completely honest, we don't know a whole lot about each other. 

Now that some background is set, here's the story.

So, today, I was sitting and drinking some coffee with my grandma and somehow we got on the topic of pills and I told her why I take mine: for anxiety, depression, and panic disorder. She was somewhat understanding of that, and had an idea before today. But I expressed to her my true and vulnerable experiences; sweats, shaking, nausea, fear of leaving the house, trouble getting out of bed. And she listened.

Until she started telling me, through her broken English, that I need to be strong. That I have to fight. That I have to push away those thoughts and ideas, which I agree is important to try, but I explained that sometimes it's so much bigger than that. In the moment, it seems almost impossible. She left it with, "well, we all have our weaknesses."

Later on in the day, I was walking through the kitchen and she brought out her pamphlet that she got at church today. She told me she needed to show me something, which ended up being a little quote. Something to the effect of "The only way to conquer fear is faith."

She told me I need to pray about it.

I told her I had for years.

She told me she didn't believe me. Or that maybe I was praying the wrong things.

I don't resent her, I understand that we see God differently.

But, it's not just about this experience. It's about the same ones over and over again.

It's about the fact that people can work up the courage to open up to their loved ones about the madness in their heads, and it can still be invalidated. It can still be seen as a joke or a sign of "weakness."

But let me tell you, these things are not weaknesses. They do not make me any less of a strong woman, capable of great things. They are a strength. The fact that going through the day, leaving the house, talking to people, is a war in itself, only goes to show that it makes us stronger.

I am not weak. If you're struggling, you're not weak. Regardless of what your family thinks, you're friends say to you, the things you read on the internet. Things are just hard sometimes, and that's okay. Keep pushing and remember to take care of yourselves.

Seek help when you're ready.