A food metaphor for mental health

It is common knowledge that potatoes require some work before eating them. At the very least they need to be baked or popped in the microwave before tasting the fluffy starch. Regardless of whether you prefer your potato mashed, fried, baked, or steamed some effort is required to make the meal.

We all have people in our lives that are potatoes- the people you know require more attention and care. Sometimes it is the shyer friend you have to draw out of their shell,  or your aging parents, or your child. Checking in on them to ensure that life is running smoothly is second nature, a well formed habit.

No one really thinks about preparing apples. Most of the time this popular fruit is just bitten into as a healthy snack. We all have people in our lives that are apples- the people that require little effort and worries. Sometimes it is the dependable co-worker, or the easy going friend who always smiles. You might see them everyday and ask about their weekend. You might share minor worries and frustrations like the crowded coffee shop or rainy afternoon. But rarely do we expect a major life crisis to be revealed over lunch.

It is my theory that this is one of the reasons mental health remains an undiscussed issue. Anyone in our lives could be dealing with mental health problems- a battle with depression, or anxiety. But we rarely ask the people in our lives about their mental health. We often ask: “how are you?” or “what did you do this weekend?” or maybe even “are you okay?” But we never seem to ask “how is your mental state?” even though your mental health can affect your physical health. “How are you?” is often a quick question in obligatory small talk. The answer is expected to be brief and positive.

We all need to be talking about mental health more. We all need to be asking the people in our lives how their minds are doing. Especially when these people are like apples- the people we generally assume are fine. We assume that mental health is an obvious state- you are either smiling and happy or crying in a corner and mumbling to yourselves. But mental health is not that simple. You can be smiling and laughing and still feel like the world is falling apart inside.

I challenge you reader to check in on the apples in your life. Ask them about their mental state. Because sometimes the people that we assume are sailing on a calm ocean have dangerous undercurrents. Sometimes the people who need the most help are also the people who have the calmest mask.

P.S. If you reader wondered why I was gone the past month without notice I moved. That’s right I am not dead! I just moved cross-country. Needless to say my mental health didn’t really appreciate that, so I’ve been dormant for a while. But I am now hopefully (fingers’ crossed) back!

My relationship with anxiety

My panic disorder and I have a complicated relationship that goes through phases.

Some days my disorder feels like a secret companion that I hold close to my chest. It is part of my identity that cannot be removed without removing a piece of me with it. Like a chipped bowl it could be replaced with a newer model, but then it loses its charm and personality. The bowl is chipped for a reason- dropped while mixing the batter for snickerdoodles. A newer bowl wouldn’t hold the same memories and personality. I reach for the chipped bowl like I reach for a well-worn t-shirt soft and loose from years of wear.

Some days my disorder is a tunnel that blocks my vision of the greener pastures that are full of tender love and care of people who care about me. The tunnel blocks the green fields that provide opportunity for growth and achievement. In this tunnel I can’t see the expansive open sky or the warmth of the sun on my skin. All I can see and feel is the dark walls closing in, squeezing the breath from my lungs as I reach for the flickering dim light at the end.

Some days my disorder is the secure fortress that protects my heart. My disorder stands at the gate watching the people who pass-by and letting only those who are willing to put forth the effort of understanding are allowed to enter the fortress’ walls. The strangers who carry knives of judgment or are only willing to do what best serves them and nothing else are not allowed through the fortress. If they are unwilling to accept the watch-guard then they cannot receive the princess inside. They are only welcome on the outside where they cannot attack my inner peace.

My panic disorder has hurt me. I cannot sugar-coat the moments where I am paralyzed in anguish. I cannot forget the moments I cling to the edge of the sink begging my head to stop the adrenaline running through my veins fighting an invisible foe. But I cannot lie and say it has only hurt me. It has shown me who my true friends are and those who were only using me for their benefit. It has taught me empathy and patience. It has forced me to take care of myself and stop pretending to be fine when I’m not. It has shown me big problems can be turned into tiny ones, and tiny problems can grow into big ones if left alone in the shadows.

My relationship with anxiety is complicated, but it is mine. Like any relationship we have highs and lows as the relationship evolves over time.

One positive change at a time- Cat

A random collection of poems

Attention

“She’s just doing this for attention”

you whisper in my ear leaning over.

I can’t help but think

Is this what you say about me too?

Can’t you see she’s hurting?

Can’t you see the only way

she can get out the pain is to self-destruct?

Nobody cares about the mess when they’re throwing a tantrum.

“She needs help”

I whisper back,

but she is no longer a singular pronoun.

 

Office

While I sit you are tossing old papers.

The shelves once full of books are now empty.

The drawer once full of folders of files are barren.

You chatter about the office musical chairs

A will take your office

B will take A’s

C will take over D’s

Because D wants B’s

I can’t imagine anyone else in this office.

It is your chair.

Your window.

I suppose I just don’t like change.

But even though in two weeks the now empty office will be full

Of someone else’s books on the shelves

Of someone else’s folders of files

To me this office will always be empty without

Your voice

Your smile

 

My world

I live in a world of

biting cheeks,

nail-digging palms,

deep breaths,

and blinking back tears.

I live in a world of

squeezing in tight

to hold it all in

before I explode.

I live in a world of

repeated whispers,

because maybe if I say it

one more time

I’ll actually be okay.

I live in a world of

staring at dark ceilings,

constant shaking,

and holding back screams of

YOUR STRESS IS NOT MY PANIC.

You don’t live in this world of

death grips on your heart

as it pounds to the speed of an Olympic runner.

You don’t live in this world of

paranoia at each face,

because smiles hide cruel intents.

You don’t live in this world

where it lives inside of you

and it won’t leave you alone

no matter how much you beg

or swallow the pills

that just seem like

over-priced sugar.

 

I know this was a random post that’s different than normal, but I was struck with creativity. Let me know what you guys think! If you enjoyed it these random poems might show up more often.

One positive change at a time- Cat

 

Cleansing rain

The lightning lit up the sky breaking up the night’s darkness. The thunder rumbled lowly in the distance, still audible over the pounding rain. It was the kind of rain that falls hard enough to sting on impact. We were all drenched sitting in a circle letting the rain wash over us.

This was cleansing rain. The kind that makes you feel alive. The kind that makes you feel small against the power of nature. The kind that demands your full attention as it splashes around you hitting all the senses at once. The kind where you can barely see, because you can’t blink away the water fast enough.

We probably looked ridiculous coming back with our clothes plastered to our skin and our shoes squeaking against the tile floor. We shivered as the A/C hit us and water droplets hit the floor from our hair. But we were alive. We had the lightning spark in our eyes. We had the thunder roar in our chests and the howling wind in our lungs.

We are ready now to keep fighting our battles. This rain didn’t just nourish the plants and animals who need the water to survive. This rain nourished us. See kids have it right. Kids love to dance in the rain and splash in the puddles. Why do we all hide from the rain as adults? Regain that childlike mentality as see the joy and energy falling down.

Go find your cleaning rain.

One positive change at a time- Cat

A Metaphor

I got inspired to post again because a super cool blogger actually liked my last post. And that my friends gave me a bit of confidence. Well that and inspiration.

Anxiety and panic attacks are like the weather. When I’m have a bad panic attack that renders me useless momentarily (because things do get better and anxiety does pass) its like a thunderstorm. It’s really obvious when it happens: the rain is pouring, the lighting cracks against the sky, the wind howls along to the thunder’s roar, and anything/anyone near by is going to notice the effects. It’s slightly less noticeable when my general anxiety or depression have congregated and accumulated for too long and a rain shower occurs.

But people rarely notice my anxiety when its just collecting as clouds above. They are looking at their surroundings and noting that there is no rain, the ground is dry, and the day is continuing. I am looking above at my anxiety muttering to myself that the storm is going to happen again.

I wish I could tell you friends that the solution is as easy as not looking up. Anxiety provides all sorts of intrusive thoughts and/or physical symptoms to convinces us to warily look at the looming clouds above. I wish I could tell you that XYZ things will provide a magical umbrella to block out the anxiety clouds.

Anxiety is a war built of multiple daily battles that sometimes end up in storms and sometimes end up in sunny days. Sometimes winning the battles is just taking a self-care moment and watching Netflix. Sometimes the battles cannot be won until time wears anxiety away. Sometimes battles can be avoided by hanging out with friends or saying no to added on stress. Sometimes battles will happen multiple times in a row and you just want to cry out on the injustice of it all.

There are things to help on the battlefield such as therapy and medication, dog kisses, and my favorite personal weapon a bottle of Sprite. There are safe spaces out there to provide comfort and distractions. I am using this blog as one of mine. Hopefully, it can be for you too, or at least we can all gain strength from each other.

One positive change at a time -Cat