“Most days I am strong, some days, not at all.”

For the best part of my life, I never allowed myself a moment of weakness. I am the first-born, a mother and honorary parent to 3 of my siblings and a provider for my mother, who all live in Africa while I am in the UK.

Year after year, I had to listen to their demands and help out. Saying no to anything was never an option.

I had to find a way to pay that bill they had defaulted on so that they didn’t have their electricity or water cut off.

I had to contribute to the family crowd fund for the uncle that had been diagnosed with a chronic illness.

I  had to contribute to the family during  bereavements, irrespective of if the deceased had a funeral policy, it’s just the decent thing to do.

As soon as I posted a holiday picture or a picture of a night out, the requests came in. The strange thing is, it was never demanded but asked in a way that made me feel guilty for living my life.

But one day, I reached breaking point. I was struggling with my health, physically and mentally.

It took me a while to realise what was happening to me because I thought was Superwoman.

I didn’t have the time to be ill, too many people were counting on me and no way was I going to be lying here feeling sorry for myself. I needed to get up and work and do the tasks that I needed to do.

But I couldn’t.

Getting up for work became a challenge, driving became a chore. Stopping for petrol was terrifying and answering the phone was even worse.

It felt like my life was being taken over, I was tired all the time, I slept all the time.

I was sad all the time and angry most times and constantly under a fog that I couldn’t even shake off.

I lost confidence in myself and I just could not do anything to help myself.

The days went quickly and became just a blur and all I could think of was that I didn’t want to be alive anymore.

I avoided talking to people and to the ones I spoke to, I said I was fine. I really felt like I was letting everybody down by being ill but never at one time did I think of myself. Just others.

When I finally realised that I needed help, and got the treatment that has helped me a great deal, I knew that I had to adjust my way of life.

I learnt that no matter how hard it was, I have to try to put my needs first, that is why I am such a fan of the quote, “You can’t pour from an empty cup.”

Recovery and rediscovery has been a very important part of my life in the last 18 months.

Most days I am strong, but some days, not at all.

There are days  when I am up early and raring to go and there are days where I struggle to even get out of bed.

There are times when I write an article and it takes me at least an hour tops to publish, and there are times when it takes me over two weeks to articulate myself in my writing.

I have learnt that I have to listen to my body and not work overtime when I don’t need to.

I have learnt that I can say no to a request and not lose sleep over it.

I have learnt that I can sleep and not feel guilty for switching off my phone.

I know that whatever happens now, I can take one day at a time and that my mental health is just as important as my physical health.

We watch what we eat, exercise and even take supplements to enhance our physical health and its heavily advertised but but mental health issues are always talked about behind closed doors.

We need to make time for therapeutic activities such as mindfulness, relaxation, personal care and getting in touch with nature.

Let us be kind to ourselves as we are to others.

 

 

 

 

“I am fine, thank you.”

The stigma surrounding mental health and other illnesses stops people from sharing how they feel with the ones close to them.

I am one person that advocates for talking about mental health, but over time I have realised that some people who haven’t experienced any mental health problems are rarely sympathetic and feel like you should snap out of it and get on with other things to forget about what you are thinking about.

As soon as you mention depression, anxiety or ptsd, you are labelled as an attention seeker.

How then is one expected to open up about what they are going through when its not even taken seriously?

How do you answer a question like, ‘so when will you get better or will you be depressed all your life?’

The only time someone is taken seriously is when they have a public meltdown but not everyone that has mental health problems will breakdown in that kind of way. It can be experienced in many different ways, for instance;

  • Tiredness and loss of energy
  • Sadness that doesn’t go away for a long time
  • Loss of self-confidence and self-esteem
  • Difficulty concentrating even on simple tasks
  • Not being able to find pleasure in things that you used to enjoy
  • Constantly feeling anxious

Not too long ago, I was sitting with someone and they asked me where I had been as they had not seen or heard from me for a while. As I spoke to them, they rolled their eyes, then they said you know, “you cant be taking every diagnosis that the doctor gives you seriously. Just listen and walk away. If I had listened to doctors, I would be having a list of ailments that I have to think of and hundreds of pills to take, but I rebuke them in Jesus’s name and I am well’.

She went on for a while about how she deals with her life and that she will never allow an illness to control her life and urged me to do the same.

I started wishing that I had just said ‘I am fine thanks, and you?’ and moved on, which is what a lot of people with mental health problems end up resorting to.

photo cred. -slideplayer
– Hello, how are you I am fine, thank you! And you

We still have a long way to go in educating people about mental health, especially in ethnic minority communities where culture, religion and social stigma play a big part in peoples lives.

It is not a weakness to accept your diagnosis and be treated for whatever illness you are suffering from, no matter how minor you think that it is.

Staying silent isn’t being strong, speaking out is!