Yesterday was the worst mental health day I’ve had in quite a while. Frustration over how long it took me to write an article and financial worries led to an emotional meltdown. I was in tears and had thoughts like, “I can’t even cope with the challenges in my life. Who am I to think I can help anyone else cope with theirs?”
Thankfully, that downward spiral didn’t last as long as others have. I reminded myself of all of the challenges I’ve made it through so far, and of how much progress I’ve made on my mental health journey. I realized that one meltdown did not mean I’m a total mess with no wisdom to share that can help others.
That led me to think about how easy it is to think in binary terms about many other things. We categorize people as either sick (ill, either acutely or chronically) or well (healthy), but no one is entirely either. Health, like just about everything else, exists on a continuum.
I used to draw sharp distinctions between times when I was severely depressed and other times when I was “normal.” Books by mental health and medical professionals, especially The Myth of Normal (affiliate link) by Dr. Gabor Maté, have helped me see that as a false dichotomy.
I also used to classify people (especially political and religious leaders and other influencers) as either cruel or kind. I confess that I still see a few as purely cruel based on their public statements and actions. But they probably have friends, family members, and/or pets they are kind to. I also recognize that even though I think I’m kind, and most people who know me would probably say that I am, there are times when I can be (and have been) cruel.
Finally, I used to think of life as either good or bad, and people as either successful or struggling. I’m much more aware now that there are moments of pure joy or calmness during the most painful and challenging times. There are moments of deep grief or intense anger during the best and happiest times. And everyone is successful in some areas of life but struggling in others.
There are few absolutes in life. People are too complex to be reduced to simple binaries. So are health, success, and just about everything else. It’s tempting to sort people into categories and conclude we are superior or inferior to them. We focus on one thing, like their job title, financial situation, opinion about a specific issue, skin color, immigration status, sexual orientation, or gender identity, and we sort them accordingly. We wrongly assume that one thing tells us everything we need to know to accurately judge them and predict their beliefs and behavior.
Sometimes we do the same thing to ourselves. At least I do, and I’m guessing others do, too. I make sweeping generalizations about myself based on a single incident or aspect of my life. That’s what I did yesterday when I concluded my emotional meltdown proved that I could not deal with my life, much less help anyone else deal with theirs.
It’s what I do when I think I’ll never be a successful online writer because I don’t currently earn enough to cover basic living expenses solely by writing. It’s what I do during my most severe bouts of depression when I’m convinced life will never get better.
The truth is that everyone has good and bad days (or moments within any given day). We all say and do kind things we are proud of, and cruel things we later regret. Some aspects of our lives are healthier and more satisfying than others. There are times when we listen to our inner wisdom, take care of ourselves, and make good decisions. And there are times when we listen to our inner critic, ignore our needs, and do what others want us to instead of what’s best for us.
Through trial and error we figure out what makes life better for us. We do things that satisfy our needs and desires and love ourselves even when we don’t.
But there will always be moments (or days) we fail to do that, as I experienced yesterday. Because no one is perfect or has a perfect life.
The popular saying, “When you know better, you do better,” isn’t always true. Sometimes we default to old beliefs and behaviors even though we know better.
Then we catch ourselves, remember what we know, and use it to get out of default mode and make better choices. And we repeat the process as often as necessary.