The Time Between 'Sick' and 'Well'

I was pretty sick recently. It was a quick virus, but quick is no consolation when you’re up all night puking, sure that the next time you’re going to throw up an organ. I was sick into the next day, and right now it’s two days after and I’m still recovering. My stomach feels raw, my body still aches and my face is still red. But I’m getting better. Like I knew I would. Because that’s the way it’s supposed to work.

But when it comes to the mind, things are different. One of the biggest things people don’t seem to understand with mental health issues is that you don’t just get better. There are good times and bad times just like with anyone else. Except the bad times don’t compare to regular stress, or a temporary setback in life. Our bad times are the symptoms. It may go into remission if we work hard to fight it and our minds decide to allow it. But it’s never gone. Not completely.  Sometimes it takes years to even find remission.

And then there’s the time in between wellness and sickness. When you aren’t at your worst, but you’re fighting to get to your best. You know what you should be doing to get better, but it’s not working right. I’m exercising, I’m seeing friends, taking my medicine. I’m writing, eating right and trying to stay positive. But right now I’m stuck. I’m inches away from slipping back into the pit of depression. And I can’t stop it.

So what is one supposed to do? That’s the big question everyone seems to have a magical answer for. And by everyone, I mean everyone not going through it.

“You should exercise more.”

“Get out of the house.”

“Happiness is a choice, just choose to be happy!”

“It’s all in your head.”

And the one I hear most often, “Just pray about it.”

I wish I didn’t have to say this, but there is no magical answer. For someone going through this, it takes hard, hard work to fight it. Often it’s work without much progress. And the longer it takes, the harder it is to have hope you can win.

Imagine you spent months stuck in a hole. It’s dark, wet and cold. It’s lonely and you keep hearing things that terrify you. You can’t get out. Until one day, something changes. You find a root that you can step on, then another. And another. It takes days but finally you reach the top. You step out of the hole and right in front of it is a mountain. Your spirits sink and you almost fall back into the hole. Once in a while you do fall back in. But this time, you regain your balance and go on with determination. You start climbing. It’s steep, but there are rocks you can step on, and trees you can use to steady yourself and help your ascent. You start feeling hopeful that you can actually reach the top.

Then the trees start thinning out. You can see past the trees and look up to see your progress, to find that you’ve only made a small distance. But you haven’t slipped, and you can keep going. Keep fighting. You climb with the top of the mountain in sight though your progress is slow. The rocks are getting smaller and there are less trees to help you along. Instead of stepping on the stones to help you climb, you’re reaching pebbles that make you fall. You climb for days and every time you look toward the top, it doesn’t look any closer. You are making progress, but you can’t see it.

You are now about halfway up and you are falling as often as not. When you slip, you slide a few feet down before getting up. You keep getting up, because you know you should. But you are starting to forget why you should. Each time you slip, a bit of hope dies, and your memory falters. Sometimes you know that you must be making progress and that you should keep going. Other times you just sit down because there’s no way you can ever reach the top.

You start to doubt yourself.

Maybe I’m not strong enough. Maybe I’m not good enough. Maybe I don’t deserve to reach the top and get better.

You sit there, doubting yourself, for days. Weeks. Months.

This is what it feels like. When you aren’t at your worst, but far from your best. Some days I know that I’ll get better and I’ll be fine. But some days I can feel myself slipping backwards. And I’m scared. No matter which way I go, I’m scared. But there’s only one thing to do.

Keep fighting. Keep doing all those things that make you stronger. Even when you don’t want to. Keep seeing loved ones, force yourself to engage in a hobby you know you love, even if you want nothing to do with it. Wake up in the morning, take a shower, make yourself look presentable. Tell yourself you are fine. Lie. You know you aren’t fine. But lie. When you continue to live your life, you aren’t “faking it.” You are arming yourself so that your ascent gets a bit easier. Everything you do to help yourself can give you a boost up that mountain. So keep fighting.

So when someone is stuck, like me, they haven’t given up. They aren’t defeated. But they could use a hand, some encouragement and a whole lot of patience. Knowing that there’s something up there waiting for them makes the climb just a bit easier. And once we reach the top, we just might find we’ve gotten a bit stronger.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you struggle with self-harm and you need support right now, call the crisis hotline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741. For a list of ways to cope with self-harm urges, click here.

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Thinkstock photo via  bignoze