It’s good to talk. I know that. Yet sometimes it’s genuinely not as simple as talking.
Two weeks ago my mental health took a significant nosedive for reasons that some may know and it’s not important for those that don’t. This week my mental health has been on the up. The sun is shining, husband is back this weekend and a number of things are falling into place.
A friend asked how things have been and I was honest saying the first couple of weeks my husband was away I was a mess. I deactivated social media accounts and withdrew. Her immediate response because she is an amazing friend was “why didn’t you call me, come over etc”.
Sometimes help can be remote. In my case I was well aware of the support that was around but I needed that space. I needed time to come to terms with everything in my head and could then access the right support for me.
I read an amazing blog post by a fellow Twitterer. Silence and just the ability to actively listen is so underrated, Just be there for people who cannot ask for help or don’t need help. That is so powerful.
Sometimes I talk to myself and just say I need to get over things. I mean I need to cope. So, if I go silent, it’s not because I don’t know people are around, it’s because I know people are around but I don’t need or want help at that time. I’ll let you know. Because I can.
I recently went to a theatre show (probably the subject of another blog post) but it made me really think.
Mental health is in the spotlight at the moment and it absolutely should be. Yet sometimes certain topics can be associated with poor mental health when actually I feel (and this is a personal account) it’s part of life.
My mum died when I was 9. It was unexpected and, quite frankly, it was the worst most painful moment of my entire life. It still affects me now, when I tell people I see ‘the look’. The ‘look’ is of pity, not of empathy. It comes from people who don’t understand and to be honest you can’t possibly understand if you haven’t lost a parent. It’s okay that you don’t understand. It’s okay because I know that losing a parent is the circle of life. As a child the likelihood of your parents dying first is likely. They’re older. This sounds harsh typing this but it’s logical.
It doesn’t mean it hurts any less. If I lost my dad at age 35, would it hurt less than losing my mum at age 9? I don’t know because thankfully my dad is still alive. Yet the feelings of losing someone who I love, will that be different whatever age?
I have days with poor mental health. Sometimes I have days where I feel sad. Feeling sad at a parent’s death is not poor mental health where I need some extra support. It’s okay to be angry and upset and all the other feelings. Losing my mum is rubbish. I am angry a lot because my mum should be alive. Yet that is nothing to do with the support that I need for my mental health. I am rambling but I want to let the words flow.