I don’t know where to begin when writing about how not OK I am. I am just… not OK. In real life, I look like I’m OK, or that I’m doing OK. I function well enough on autopilot to get by. But actually, I haven’t been, especially since the pandemic.
I am angry.
I am angry that the pandemic has interrupted my life, and that my right to go out as a citizen had to be compromised for two-and-a-half months–or maybe even three? Does time exist anymore?–has compromised my well-being. Something inside me is not quite right anymore. I realised that the place that I used to call home had become a hostile environment and the circuit breaker made it worse–I was confined to my room, solely my room, and I felt like I had no right to use the living room or the kitchen. Maybe this living arrangement never worked out to begin with and I was forced to confront it, head-on.
I started to realise that even though I liked staying indoors, I needed to go out, too, even if it was to get groceries. But seeing that everything was closed, dim and dark during the circuit breaker made me feel sad. More than sad. I felt the waves of depression sweep through my being because it felt like the world was going to end. Don’t be so dramatic, you say. Think positive. But during that period of time, those positive words felt empty because everything felt like it was ending. I did not want this world to end. Not yet.
Other events have made my mental health even worse during that period of time, and I am not sure if I can share them. But it did seem like there was one horrible event happening after another during the circuit breaker, and I felt helpless to stop it.
I know some of my friends reading this want to help, and I know people want to offer words of comfort, or empty platitudes like, “Think positive.” The last one is a form of toxic positivity that is useless because it shows me zero empathy.
I don’t need cheering up. I need people to be there until I feel better. Until then, here is me being brave. Here I am, saying that I am not well and that it is OK not to be well.
I talk about mental health, and self-care a lot to my friends, and it is started to seep into my work. I have to walk the walk and be vulnerable and not just talk the talk.
But damn. Being vulnerable is hard.