When my alarm first went off this morning, my first thought was, “I can’t do this today.” Then I hit the snooze button.
When it went off the second time, I thought to myself, “I can’t do this today. But I have to because I have groups to meet with, students wanting to talk with me, classes to teach, teachers to meet with. I have too much to do, too many people counting on me, so I have to do it.” And then I hit snooze again.
The third time my alarm went off, my thought was, “I can’t do this today. I don’t have it in me to give to others the way they need me today. I’m not okay. But I have to.”
If I were a superwoman, this is where I would tell you about how I got up, showered, put my big girl panties on, and mustered up the strength and energy to face the day.
But I’m not superwoman.
I’m just a human.
The truth is, I hit snooze. Again. And when my alarm went off for the fourth time, I gave up and gave in to the understanding that I wasn’t well enough to go to work today.
At that point I got up and met my husband in the kitchen as he was about to come check on me and tell me how late it was getting. When he saw me, he asked if I was okay, and I told him, “I think I need to take a mental health day.” Then he listened as I stumbled through my thoughts and held me while I cried.
I sent my principals a text saying “So I’m going to take a mental health day today. I can’t really explain it, but I just know that I need to take it.” Thankfully, the only question that was asked was if there was anything they could do to help.
I know that there are some people who don’t understand the concept of taking a mental health day. They are probably the same people who don’t quite understand mental health. They might even be some of the same people who don’t understand taking a physical health day (aka “sick day”). They may believe that unless you’re in the hospital, you should go to work.
We encourage people who are running a fever/throwing up/sending germs into the air with every cough/spreading germs by touching all the things after blowing their green-snotty nose to stay home to get well and keep others from being affected. We understand that when a person pushes himself too much physically when he is sick, it can turn into an illness that is even more serious. That makes sense, right? We understand that, right?
The thing is about understanding when someone is experiencing poor mental health, you don’t have to have experienced it yourself. Just like someone who is physically sick – it’s not about you and how you feel. It’s about understanding that she isn’t well and needs to take steps to get better.
Maybe you’ve never experienced depression, anxiety, posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), or compassion fatigue. But it doesn’t mean they aren’t real experiences for others. Perhaps you know what it feels like to be extremely sad, extremely worried, or mentally exhausted after going through a difficult time for you or your family.
For example, I’ve personally never had the flu, but I don’t need to have had the flu to understand that a) it’s real, and b) the person who does have it needs time to rest, recover, and feel strong again. I’m certainly not going to tell a person who has the flu to suck it up, maybe take a nap, and just try to be positive. I wouldn’t do that because I have been sick before and know what it’s like to need to take the time to rest, let my body recover, and regain my physical strength.
Likewise, you don’t need to have experienced a certain state of mental unwellness to be able to understand a) it’s real, and b) the person needs time to rest, recover, and feel (mentally) strong again.
It’s called having empathy.
It’s called having compassion.
Instead of questioning or making judgments about a person who is in poor mental health, just understand that she is not okay. Ask what you can do to help. Send her a message or Bible verse that might bring some peace. Understand that he may just need some time to regain a state of mental strength wellness.
Was it easy to take a mental health day today? No, it wasn’t.
As I sit here typing there’s a part of me that feels guilty that I’m missing work and inconveniencing people even though I’m not running a fever, puking my guts up, hacking up a lung, or blowing my nose a thousand times an hour. Part of me is uncomfortable thinking about people who may not understand or judge me because of this.
But I also know that because I took today to rest, cry, pray, and just let God hold me, tomorrow will be better.
I will be better.
Take care of yourself.