Foggy Brain
I didn’t plan on writing about mental health this early on. But when I sat down to write something else, all I could think about was I don’t have the brain or willpower to write about anything today. I stared at my screen. I almost put it away, ready to give up for the day, until I thought- well, just write about that! So here we are.
I struggle with depression and anxiety. It surfaced when I was on my LDS mission in Alabama. I felt a lot of pressure to be perfect, at first. Some days I could hardly leave the apartment. Some days I didn’t. Then I got put on medication, the seasons changed, and I learned that it was okay to have flaws. I was able to finish my mission. Since then, though, I’ve had several periods of ups and downs when it comes to my depression and anxiety. It’s been down a lot, lately. However, because of the way I am, I still function fairly well in day-to-day life. I get good grades. (My anxiety makes me think my life will fall apart and I’ll be homeless if I don’t). I talk to my friends. (I’m scared if I distance myself too much, I’ll be completely alone… even though I want to distance myself all the time). I remember to shower and eat (I can’t let people know I’m struggling, or give them any excuse to judge me or worry about me). On the outside, it can look like I’m doing alright. Internally, I’m barely keeping it together.
When I’m in a low, I call it my “foggy brain,” because, maybe obviously, it feels like my brain is in a fog. I can’t see the sun, the light, though I do believe it’s there. My foggy brain obscures the good things in my life, it shadows my perceptions of reality. Life is gray. I function in the way you function while driving in the fog- inch by inch, stressed and worried. At least, that’s how I drive in the fog. I still move forward, but it’s definitely not at full capacity.
It’s hard to write about this, because I don’t like letting people know that I’m not doing okay. But I think it’s important to recognize that depression and anxiety can manifest in many different ways, and that just because your struggles may look different to another’s, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve help.
I’m writing this with a foggy brain. But I’m writing. There’s a line I love from Shakespeare’s King Lear, “The worst is not, so long as we can say ‘this is the worst.’” I have to remind myself that I’ve been through this before, and I can make it through again. This is not the worst, no matter how much it might feel like it, no matter how hopeless I may get.
“The worst is not, so long as we can say, this is the worst.” -King Lear, Act 4, Scene 1
So, what’s my point in all this? To be honest, there’s a lot of ways I can do this. I can encourage people to seek help, counseling and medication. If you have the means and access to help, I do strongly encourage receiving it, but I know that not everyone has the ability to receive care. In fact, “in the United States, over 90 million individuals live in Mental Health Professional Shortage Areas (MHPSA), most of which are rural,” according to Rural Health Information Hub. Some people have to drive hours to see a psychiatrist or therapist, and that’s if they can get past long wait times, and if they can afford it.
I could write about how mental health issues are rising among young adults. However, this topic is a big one that I feel should take up another post altogether.
I could also attempt to combat stigma. I believe writing about mental health in any capacity does this in some way. As a zillennial, however, I recognize that for many of us, stigma is actually reducing within our peer group. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, and among certain cultural groups, the stigma is still there as strong as ever. However, I don’t want that to be my focus.
What I want to do is simply say that it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to not struggle. Your depression, anxiety, or any other mental or behavioral health diagnosis is not greater or worse for how you are doing at the moment. It can be a part of you without being you. These are words I have to tell myself. There are always going to be people who have it worse than you do, and that sucks. It makes my heart hurt to think of people who face challenges and trials that I don’t have to go through. But that doesn’t mean I don’t also deserve help. If someone has a cold, no one’s going to fault them for taking medicine just because someone else has the flu. Whatever your situation is, you’re valid. It’s okay. And if you need someone to talk to, reach out to me. Send an email to thezillennial96@gmail.com and I’ll be there.
I have a foggy brain right now, but that’s okay. It’s okay.
Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMSHA) Treatment Referral Helpline: 1-877-726-4727
The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) HelpLine: 1-800-950-6264 Monday through Friday, 10 am–6 pm
