a shadow stands in the light of a long tunnel

Mental illnesses can be so difficult to explain and understand — like how a “mental” illness can have physical symptoms; or when you’re dealing with multiple mental illnesses and you can’t pinpoint which one is causing what. On top of that, stigma can make us feel ashamed of what we’re going through, an unfair addition to what people with mental illness are already going through.

That is why we asked our Mighty mental health community to tell us the symptoms of mental illness people typically don’t talk about. Because by opening up the dialogue and making people aware of these difficult symptoms, we can continue to break the walls around shame and stigma, reminding one another we are not alone in this fight and resources are available if we need help.

Here is what they had to say: 

1. “Dissociating. Driving home from work and realizing you only know where you’re going because it’s routine. Looking in the mirror and not knowing when the last time you actually saw yourself was. Not knowing how long you’ve been out of it and not knowing when you’ll be back.” — Haylee M.

2. “Suicidal thoughts. Even if I’m not actually suicidal, I still have suicidal thoughts and feelings on a regular basis. People do not feel comfortable talking about suicide.” — Taylor B.

3. “The constant feeling of not knowing what is the truth and what is your head twisting you to believe.” — Lisa M.

4. “I completely turn into a hermit. I don’t want to be around a single person or technology for days when I’m normally the talker, cheerleader and extrovert of the social setting.” — Melisa W.

5. “Personal hygiene is not talked about enough. And people get so judgmental about that aspect, but it needs to be talked about more. In one particularly bad depressive episode I had, I didn’t shower or brush my teeth for 10 days, but I didn’t know how to talk to my therapist about that struggle without sounding disgusting and subhuman (which I already felt).” — Kaity

6. “For me, it’s the numbness. Not so much from my mental illnesses, but from the medications I take for them. Without them I would have extremely low lows, but now I feel like I can’t feel true happiness anymore either. It’s like being in limbo.” — Karina W.

7. “Panic attacks seemingly out of nowhere are the worst. It feels like you are in one life threatening situation after another, over and over again. The body was not made to go through this much fight or flight. It is soul crushing.” — Nancy S.

8. “Aggression, because it’s an intimidating and confrontational aspect people don’t understand. It’s comes out in facial expressions and tones that people don’t want to know about and to explain it means most run away scared.” — Tracy R.

9. “The daily exhaustion. It’s exhausting just living. Having to fight intrusive thoughts, fighting sensible thoughts, fighting anger and rage. Every day is a struggle just to make it through the day, and the side effects of medication do not help.” — Walter C.

10. “Instead of telling others how you really feel, you say ‘I’m just tired.’ Wiped out, fatigued or drained would be better words. It’s easier to say your tired than the truth because you feel most really don’t care to hear about your emotional pain.” — Gregg A.

11. “The decrease in my cognitive functioning and the memory loss. I always had a great memory and was sharp as a tack. Now some days I feel like I can’t remember my own name or how to formulate a complete thought. It is heartbreaking.” — Holly M.

12. “The feeling of being trapped. There is a bright, funny, vivacious young woman inside me and she is screaming to be free; but she is caged by phobias, anxiety, depression, bipolar and post-traumatic stress disorder.” — Shannon D.

13. “My mood swings and my emotions — one minute I’m fine the next I’m crying.” — Pip H.

14. “The physical symptoms like stomach problems. When you are having to run to the restroom while you feel worthless and are crying.” — Amy S.

15. “The guilt. Guilt of knowing you should be doing your chores, work, taking a shower, brushing your hair; and knowing those around you expect you and need you to do those things, except you just can’t. And the guilt basically crushes you.” — Bailey G.

16. “Wanting to hurt yourself. Not feeling safe because of your thoughts. Being so scared that you actually will hurt yourself this time. Isolating, pushing everyone away. Loneliness. Constant numbness.” — Stefanie L.

17. “Not feeling human, feeling like you’re nothing and mean nothing to everyone even family and friends. Depression for me is what the eye cannot see, but the pain is there” — Cara H.

18. “Feeling alone even when you’re hanging out with close family and friends and actively participating. I still often feel like they just put up with me and would have a better time when I’m not around.” — Anna G.

19. “Loss of interest in things you used to enjoy. I used to love making things. I was an artsy person — crafty and creative. I loved Halloween, dressing up and making my own costumes. I’m slowly starting to rebuild those passions.” — Anna Marie G.

20. “Racing thoughts are hard to understand and even harder to stop. Sometimes I’ll have to ignore or even distract myself in order to get them under control.” — David M.

21. “The physical pain that comes from emotions influenced by bipolar depression. When something hurts or upsets you, it feels like your chest is being ripped open. And you sit there clutching it as if you’re hands might be able to hold it together.” — Morgan T.

22. “The insidious delusions. Certain things, phrases or gestures become something else to the point that you are living a different story than other unknowing people in the same setting or even family.” — Jay B.

23. “Lack of motivation. Being stuck in a mood/situation/downward spiral and most times not knowing how to get out of it. Even worse, when you do know how to get out of it because it’s a reachable goal, but the motivation isn’t there, therefore nothing gets done and then the mood/situation/spiral gets worse and the motivation gets less and less. Everything is so close, yet so far. It’s a toxic cycle.” — Jaida-Louise K.

24. “Uncontrollable blackout rage. One minute I’m here and an hour later I’m exhausted with bleeding knuckles from punching a wall. Trying to explain to people that I don’t recall why I reacted the way I did or that I don’t specifically remember what happened is frustrating. They think I’m a liar. It’s not something I have ever enjoyed.” — Desi C.

25. “I have ‘high-functioning’ anxiety but I don’t feel anxious 100 percent of the time. I got told for years that I didn’t have anxiety because it wasn’t 100 percent of the time and ‘everyone gets anxious.’ My worst symptom is that it isn’t even around all the time for people to care about me.” — Teesha W.

26. “The weird ideas that suddenly pop up in your head and the fear of your own thoughts. Refusing the society around you and yourself included.” — Nahla Z.

27. “When everything just feels wrong. You don’t feel exactly anxious or depressed or sick — but everything feels wrong. You can’t sleep, everything that you normally find fun or that normally distracts you is just too boring. It’s like all you want to do is do something but you don’t seem to have the energy to do anything.” — Anastasia O.

28. “Constant, stubborn thoughts of suicide or self0harm that I won’t act on but that won’t go away. Usually that is a signal I am headed into a mixed manic episode. I am afraid to tell others or even talk about it out of fear others will freak out or try to commit me, or worse, abandon me.” — Lauren Q.

29. Insomnia. I was exhausted after working my eight hour shift. Twenty-six hair cuts. I thought I was going to pass out the moment I got into bed. Two hours later and I’m wide awake and have to work at 8 a.m.” — Shelba M.

30. “The battle between wanting to remember and being terrified to remember, because terror is the essence of the memories and I’ve kept them locked away for so very long. I’ll get through this though.” — Janice D.

31. “Disconnecting from people. You lose friends, wind up looking rude or flaky for not hanging out or reaching out. Not being able to be there for others in times of need because you feel empty.” — Catherine W.

32. “Shame. I blame myself for my problems and that I deserve it. The fact that I need help makes me feel guilty because I don’t think I’m worthy of it.” — Mira K.

If you experience any of these symptoms, please know you are not alone and help is out there. You should not feel shamed or stigmatized for struggling. You deserve help and happiness.

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

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “HOME” to 741-741. Head here for a list of crisis centers around the world.

Unsplash photo via @gambler_94

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One of the kindest things I’ve been told this year was this: “Whether you stop feeling sad today or tomorrow or never, I liked the you I met in creative writing class last year, and I like the you you are now. With your illness, without it. And if you can’t make it to class, this week or ever, I will still be here.” 

When I initially heard those words from my dearest friend Emily, I teared up. Her words were so powerful and they were exactly what I needed to hear at the time. 

When I was sick, I felt like such a waste of space. I felt like no one wanted to be around me. I felt like a burden to my friends and family. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be alive, and believed everyone would be better off without me. I felt like nobody would even notice if I was gone, and I was convinced I wouldn’t be remembered.

To this day, her words resonate inside my head whenever I’m having a bad mental health day. They echo inside my mind and act as a reminder that no matter how depressed or irritated or sad I feel, my loved ones will never leave me.

So often in life, our first instinct to other people’s struggles are a desperate attempt to fix the problem for them. We want to alleviate the pain, but the truth is, sometimes we can’t. Sometimes we can’t “fix” the other person’s issues, even though we want to. Especially for parents, I can’t imagine how hard it must be for them to watch their child struggle and feeling powerless to do anything about it. It must be a horrible feeling.

I was lucky. In the midst of my illness, I had friends like Emily. I had friends who valued vulnerability and empathy. They told me over and over again I wasn’t a burden to anyone even though my brain kept trying to convince me otherwise.

People like my friend Emily are special, because they “get it.” They understand that listening usually does more good than talking, and they value the power of skilled and empathetic listening. I think some people in this world are simply gifted with the ability to read between the lines, and hear what isn’t being said.

When I was deeply depressed, I wasn’t looking for well-intended guidance. Emily understood that. All along, what I wanted and needed was for someone else to give me their full, undivided and caring attention. Emily did just that, because she understood that perhaps when we’re hurting, all we really want and need is to feel deeply seen.

I believe human relationships are the best medicine we’ve got, and I wish every single person on earth had their very own version of my friend Emily.

It took me a long time to understand, but I get it now. We are all worthy of love and belonging. When I was sick, I was blessed enough to have a  friend like Emily. And you, dear reader, wherever you are on your journey, you deserve a friend like her, too.

You deserve the kind of friend who will let you crash on their couch in a sleeping bag when you feel like a danger to yourself and can’t trust yourself to be left alone.

You deserve the kind of friend who will provide you with a safe space when you’re in crisis, and who will walk with you to the hospital then sing you “Happy Birthday” in the emergency room.

You deserve the kind of friend who will visit you in the hospital every day with their dog and who will bring red velvet cupcakes. 

You deserve the kind of friend who will cook you homemade meals when you don’t have enough energy to feed yourself, who will drag you out of the house despite your numerous complaints.

You deserve the kind of friend who will send you flowers and cards and balloons in the mail.

You deserve the kind of friend who will listen to you when you talk, and who will support you no matter what.

You deserve the kind of friend who will nod and empathize and validate your point of view.

You deserve the kind of friend who will respect and love you with or without your illness. 

You deserve the kind of friend who will fight for your health and your happiness even when you are unable to do so, and who will never give up on you.

I am blessed to have those kind of friends, and I hope you are too.

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

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Unsplash photo via Brook Cagle.


This week marks the one year milestone of the start of my therapy, and the blind plunge into a whole mess of emotions. It’s been a roller coaster of ups and downs with my therapist, but it’s thanks to her, I can confidently say I’m so different from the girl who walked into her office last year — in a good way.

However, I now begin to realize that on this roller coaster of life, each up and down comes with a new view and perspectives that differ from previous points. Personally, knowledge has been a tool I’ve been able to use to become more aware and invest in self-care. As a psychology major in college this past year, I was able to make leaps and bounds in my progress with the topics I was learning in my classes.

That is, until this week.

I began to take abnormal psychology, and by memorizing the DSM-V, I realized I had never asked my therapist for my diagnosis and it never came up. I think the part of me that denied my mental health struggles all these years found comfort in the lack of a label. But now, I can no longer live in ignorance. For my exams, I have to distinguish between different disorders by their symptoms. I know my symptoms.

So I brought it up with my therapist and for the first time, she began talking through my symptoms from a clinician’s viewpoint, and she began to explain my possible diagnosis. Given my life experiences, I can understand the complexity of this task. However, I think I always thought she had one diagnosis, and so hearing the possiblities, even when she told me to listen with “removed emotions,” left my mind tangled in a mass of pure confusion.

Anxiety? Depression? Bipolar II? Bulimia? PTSD?

It’s a gray confusion.

And I get it, it takes time to diagnose. It takes time to observe symptoms and coping behaviors. It’s not a linear process because people change. My therapist may not know either and I don’t blame her.

 

But that brings no comfort to the me that just wants to get better. I’m sure I’m not alone. Whether it’s the first few weeks into therapy, or a milestone calling for reflection on the way to recovery, it’s bound to come up.

Honestly, I hate it. I want to know what I’m fighting. It’s like swinging a sword into a fog, hoping to hit the enemy and desperately exasperating all your senses, squinting and intently listening, in hopes of finding clues that may reveal the hidden opponent. It especially sucks when the fog seems to be thinning, and then you realize it’s definitely not, and rather becoming more dense instead.

So I sat in this fog these past few days. Thoughts of “why keep fighting” and “I’m so messed up, let’s back out” made several disturbing visits into my mental processes. It’s been a rough few days.

But I now realize that this gray is  OK. The color gray itself is a transition phase that can be obtained by mixing a variety of different colors. Every individual is unique in the same way, and different disorders and the healing that follows appears differently, based on each person.

This gray may be ugly now, but it’s on its way to a new color, a changed shade of myself that is on its way to recovery.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Thinkstock photo via Vladimir Arndt


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.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Thinkstock photo via  bignoze


One of the greatest bits of information I ever learned from a psychologist was the concept of “feedback loops.” I’m going to talk about this, today.

When the brain gets used to feeling a certain way, it starts going there more and more, because it’s familiar and easy to get to. This is what’s called a “negative feedback loop.” One of the most common types of negative feedback loop is suicidal ideation, where your brain incessantly thinks about dying, even when you have no plan and no desire to follow through. This happens because, at some stage, you were there frequently, and your brain got used to it.

What I’m trying to say here is if you’ve been suicidal a lot in the past, and you can’t understand why you can’t get rid of those thoughts today, this may be why. It’s not a failure on your part, whatsoever. You are likely in a negative feedback loop. It’s treating your thoughts like clothes in a dryer: they’re going round and round and round.

Next step: What do we do about it? We teach ourselves it’s an automatic process, and we tell ourselves it’s OK to accept these thoughts. Acceptance doesn’t always mean we like something; it just means we accept it is what it is, and we don’t allow it power over ourselves. Painful, ruminating thoughts are real, but they are thoughts — and you don’t have to act on them. They go from sitting in the driver’s seat of your life, to sitting in the backseat, or — better yet — crammed into the boot!

This process takes time. Feedback loops are created over time, and they are broken over time. But they can be broken. And even if they’re not? They can be lived with, without them incessantly distressing us. How do I know? Because I have them, too.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Thinkstock photo via shironosov.


Two weeks after Hurricane Harvey made landfall on the Texas coast, many highways and homes in my hometown of Houston remain underwater. Things have begun to shift toward rebuilding in most of the city, but the lack of preparation remains disturbing, especially for those with mental health needs. As another disaster already unfolds in Florida and the Caribbean, how can we advocate for ourselves?

In any disaster, basic services are affected. In Houston, 911 call centers prepared for increased calls, but by the first full day of rain, officials were regularly urging people not to call 911 if their house was flooding unless they were truly in imminent life-threatening danger. I’m sure I don’t need to explain that a mental health emergency probably wasn’t an emergency for the week of rain and rooftop rescues.

Emergency rooms were equally overwhelmed, with medical professionals who worked shift after shift, sometimes pulling in interns who’d never worked a day in an ER, and even medical students, to meet the demand. Some mental health treatment centers in the Houston metro, such as our partial hospitalization programs for eating disorders had to be closed for daysand patients in outpatient treatment had no access to their therapist, psychiatrist and other professionals because travel was impossible throughout the city and many homes and offices were flooded. Medications were not readily available. Volunteers at shelters tried to help evacuees who, for the first time, couldn’t get essential medications for mental health conditions like bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, worsening an already vulnerable time for these individuals.

Added to this, the overall need for mental health services skyrockets after a large-scale natural disaster. Several organizations provide different lists to get you started on a disaster or emergency kit depending on your circumstances. Ready.gov has customized lists for seniorspets and those with disabilities. Unfortunately, since Hurricane Harvey hit, I’ve not seen a list that includes meeting mental health needs.

A disaster or emergency kit is designed to provide the minimum items an individual or family would need to stay safe during and after an emergency. It’s usually pretty customized to meet each person’s unique needs. We know the basics: be prepared for basic services — water, gas, electricity and internet/telephones — to be off for several days. Have plenty of food and water. Review your emergency plan once a year.

But, in addition to planning for the typical outages and reduced ability to travel, it may be essential for someone with mental health needs to prepare for the possibility of cancelled treatment appointments, decreased access to 911, hospitals and emergency rooms for non-life-threatening emergencies, and to plan what to do in unfamiliar and particularly hectic or tumultuous environments.

Before an emergency:

1. Create a support system of people you trust
 

This can be family, friends, roommates, co-workers or neighbors. Be sure to include some people in your city, and some people who are out of town in case of a city-wide emergency. Do not depend on only one person — they may be affected, too!

2. Prepare your support network to assist you with your emotional reactions to an emergency or disaster
.

It may be especially hard to think clearly and process information, and emotions like fear, agitation, anxiety and depression may increase. Ever see a “What to Say to Someone With [insert condition here]” blog post that really resonated with you? Add it to your plan. Send it to your support network, and ask them to save it in case of an emergency. I love these about what to say to someone with anxiety and depressionPTSD and eating disorders.

3. Think about your personal needs
.

What do you most struggle with when things get chaotic? What is most helpful? Share these answers with your support network. Be specific — even for people who “should know already.”

4. Be prepared to communicate your immediate needs to emergency personnel
.

Consider situations like calling 911, being at a busy shelter or being at a hospital. It can be much harder to disclose mental health needs in an emergency.

5. Keep an updated list of your treatment providers’ contact information, your diagnoses and medication dosages
.

Pharmacies can work with you to get emergency supplies of most medications, but contact information for your professionals will greatly speed up this process. Remember to include a few people from your support system you would want notified (and who could advocate for you) if you were hurt. This is also a good place for a copy of medical and prescription insurance cards. Keep these phone numbers with you in case 911 becomes overloaded. This template from FEMA might help get you started.

6. Build an emergency kit
.

Call it a “recovery box,” a “bug-out bag” or a “survival pack,” but think about what you most need to stay stable in a crisis. This isn’t the same as an emergency room or hospital bag — many of the things you might consider there won’t make sense in this kind of emergency. Here’s a great example to get you started. Remember to add a small “comfort item” (a stuffed animal, a meaningful picture) and a small amount of medications, including those that are as-needed.

7. Prepare for pets
.

If you are like me and you have a pet that can comfort you when almost no one else can, be sure to think about them, too! In addition to food and water, at a minimum, bring current vaccine records and your veterinarian’s contact information so your pet could be boarded or stay in a “pet-friendly” hotel.

During an emergency:

1. Speak up for your needs
.

Don’t be afraid to explain to first responders, humanitarian volunteers, family or friends what you need given your individual circumstances. Do you urgently need medication to prevent symptoms of bipolar disorder or schizophrenia? Do you require a quiet environment to keep panic attacks at bay? Make those needs known.

2. Find something, somewhere to be grateful for. 

When the world is falling down around you, figuratively or literally, it’s surprising how much it can help to push yourself to finding something good in the situation—somehow, somewhere.

3. Consider turning off the news
.

Watching the news or reading Facebook stories all day can make the best of us anxious during and after a disaster. Plan ahead for someone to send you essential information. Plan for how you will decrease distractions in a chaotic environment. For example, if you are used to listening to music, what will you do if electricity isn’t available?

4. Be flexible
.

Emergencies are always unplanned, and are often unpredictable as they develop. Plan for your plan to change, and be ready to adapt to quickly changing circumstances. Have back-up plans arranged with your support network. What if you couldn’t escape with needed prescriptions? What if cell service were interrupted?

After an emergency:

1. Look for what you can control.
 

In the midst of many things that are far beyond your control, what can you control? Check out this great list of 75 things you can control now. What would be on your personal list?

2. Reestablish consistency
.

I don’t know anyone who operates at their best when there isn’t some level of consistency and stability. This is often especially true for those with mental illness. Can you eat or sleep at the same time you usually do? Talk to someone you always talk to? Listen to a song, meditate or say a prayer? Look for something, no matter how small.

3. Continue self-care
.

I’ve heard this so many times it makes me cringe a little to say it again myself, but if there’s ever been a time to prioritize self-care, this would be it. Eating and sleeping are a must, but check out this fabulous list of 101 self-care ideas — I bet you’ll see some you haven’t thought of in awhile!

4. Find support
.

Your normal treatment schedule could be interrupted, and parts of your treatment team or support system may be unreachable. You may need to reach out to friends, family, uplifting social media groups or a phone or text hotline. You can call a 24-hour helpline, or contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741. Remember that some people you normally rely on may be dealing with their own needs, and you may have to be more creative than usual about how you reach out.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Photo via CNN Facebook page.

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