I'm one of those "functioning" mentally ill people. I'm candid about my mental illness; it always gives me a sad chuckle how shocked people are when I tell them I have moderate to severe depression (along with a host of other issues). I walk around! I'm doin' OK! I do yoga???
I'm making this post because today, I: cared for a child, cleaned my house (somewhat), worked in my yard, made an actual meal for myself and consumed like, half of it. Half! More than 2 bites! And I cooked it! WITH FIRE. I also wrote 2 whole, entire blog posts, one of which involved studying and research and stuff. Holy moly. Oh! And I went to work for 2 hours and exuberantly read to children.
I'm in no way trying to invite pity or compliments or anything, really, when I say that I feel like a failure a lot of the time. Because I'm so consumed by this thing, this emotion I can't really describe, that it's hard for me to just function as a person.
Today was a mental health win, by all accounts. But I still feel like I need to be hard on myself, because I COULD have done more. There were enough hours in the day.
I'm hard on myself. I try not to be, or to be less. It's hard to go easy on myself, but it helps (me, at least) to hear that other people have the same struggles. So if all you managed to do today was not a lot (or nothing at all!) I am here to tell you that that's okay. You're still valid, human, valuable. Your value is not dependent on your ability to work, or do, or make, or contribute.
People with mental illness have, historically, been brutalized (and, sadly, continue to be). Let's all be tender with ourselves, and each other.