It’s technically not World Mental Health Day anymore but I’m still awake so I’m counting it.
My boyfriend and a couple of close friends wished me happy World Mental Health Day today. At the time I thought it was sweet but as I reflect on the day I realise it was not just sweet but incredibly meaningful.
My mental health – historically fragile and the cause of much distress to myself and others – currently finds me healthy -ish and well -ish. Not always happy but doing my best. Not the most optimistic or immune from panic but functioning.
I feel like a large blob of inadequacy most of the time but the reality is that everything is ok. More than ok… good. Great? Commemorative days like “today” are a reminder that I’m still alive to feel every bit the large blob of inadequacy. And joy, and love, and wonder, and overwhelm. All of it. I’ve come close to losing everything to mental illness more times than I care to count, and today I’m glad to just be.
