A few things I'm learning about mental health

I’ve talked about mental health a few times in previous blog posts; not because I’m largely a sufferer but because I’m a massive advocate for it. I think talking more and normalising invisible suffering is massively important and I work hard to be there for friends who do struggle (even if I can’t fully understand).

My main source of mental health problems in my life have been as a side effect or knock-on effect of physical health problems. Being hospital-ridden aged 12 after having to fly home from a summer holiday early will do that. So will spending 2 weeks in hospital over Christmas and New Year aged 17.

But for the first time in my life, I feel like my mental health is taking a toll, outside of my physical health condition. Plenty of people are talking about the health risks of COVID-19 on the public and the high risk groups. And although I technically do fall into the latter (immuno-compromised with underlying health conditions), it’s the mental health effects that are concerning me more than the physical ones. And so I thought I’d share a few things I’m learning.

Sometimes your mental health is dependent on your environment

There’s been plenty of times where a celebrity has committed suicide and the response has often been ‘what did they have to be depressed about?’. I’ve always argued this point vehemently; depression can affect everyone. But on the flip side, strong mental health can be dependent on a good environment.

I have a wonderful life. I really do. I travel often, I own my own house, I go out for meals all the time, I do fun things like bottomless brunch and spa days. And while I’ve always known that I have a wonderful life, I never really considered how much my strong mental health was floating on it.

What happens when all the things that you usually do for fun are stripped away, you’re unable to book or plan anything to look forward to and you have the threat of statutory sick pay looming over your head? I’m financially stable but only from one month to the next. I’m very lucky in that my industry (online pharmacy) hasn’t taken a hit so far due to coronavirus, but my heart breaks for those whose have (hospitality, travel, etc).

And no one knows how long this will continue for. How long can you stay happy without any of the activities you normally enjoy, without any certainty about your financial security or what the future holds? My mental health may be stronger than most but there’s no denying the strain that this situation puts on even the most sound of us.

Disappointment is a crushing emotion

There’s a part in the Hunger Games (the first one) that describes the importance and the power of the feeling of hope. Feeling hopeful or excited for something can bring you up to an almighty high. But what goes up, often must come down and when you’re feeling hopeful or excited, you’ve got a lot further to fall.

I hate being disappointed by things but having disappointment after disappointment at the moment is making me realise what a crushing feeling it is. I mentioned what a wonderful life I have and you all know how many amazing holidays I go on. So having to cancel them all and not book any more is so horrible and I’m almost certain I feel 20 times worse than if I didn’t have anything booked in the first place. For people who largely chill at home anyway, this whole isolation thing can’t be too much of a drastic change (apart from the lack of toilet paper and dried pasta on the shelves).

I’m trying to look on the bright side; my holidays have been able to be rearranged without any money being lost and the countries that I want to visit will (hopefully) still be there when I’m able to visit again. But my holidays are something I look forward to and get excited for and although I’ve always jokingly said that my holidays are good for my health, I’m starting to see that the happiness they bring me may not be so much of a joke after all.

The people around you are the most important thing

When your environment changes beyond recognition, it makes you take a harder look at what’s left. My dad has always (and I mean always) loved the rocks, pebbles and sand analogy. Basically if you have rocks, pebbles and sand that you need to fill a jar with, you must put the rocks in first, then the pebbles then the sand. Put the sand in first and you’ll have no room for the rocks. Rocks represent the vitally important things in your life; your family and your health. Pebbles represent the things that matter but that you can ultimately live without; your job, your hobbies, your house. Sand represents the things that don’t really matter at all in the great scheme of things; having a nice car, being able to go on fancy holidays, your favourite TV programme.

The point of the story is that if you prioritise the wrong things, you won’t have room for the right ones. And that if you fill a jar with rocks (even though there may be gaps for pebbles and sand), the jar is still ultimately full.

Right now, my jar is full of rocks. This pandemic is technically threatening all of it (with our health and the health of our families at risk) but right now, I still have the most important things that I need. I may be losing some of the sand and pebbles, but I need to remember that my life is still full.

I’ve always been close with my family, and we’ve already ridden some pretty tough waves together. If life has taught me anything, it’s taught me how blessed I am to have such a wonderful family, who pull together even more tightly during the hard times.

I’m also surrounded by friends who I love to pieces. We’re very lucky to live in a world where we can be so far and yet so connected at the same time. Social distancing 20 years ago would’ve meant no contact with anyone, and the loneliness that would’ve ensued would’ve been far greater than in a time where we can easily check in with friends, share our woes, give advice, send out love and keep updated with each other's lives.

Before I got with Ollie, I always maintained that I didn’t need a boyfriend; my life was great, and I wasn’t looking for anyone to complete me. But without him by my side right now, someone who loves me unconditionally and in crazy amounts (and vice versa), I can’t even imagine how much worse I’d be feeling. I didn’t need a boyfriend to complete me but my life would sure feel a lot less complete without Ollie in it.