I really had planned to write more regularly this month, sharing a variety of tools from my mental health toolbox, just in case someone who stumbles on this sparse space of the Internet might find it helpful.
But I forgot what May does to me in a normal school year, let alone wrapping up a school year which I, my friends, my colleagues, and my students all completed amidst a global pandemic.
Existential crises have abounded the past two weeks:
Does anything I do even matter?
I feel so helpless when I see (friend, colleague, student) struggling.
Why can’t we just assume everyone is just doing the best they can with what they have?
Why are some people just flat out mean?
Why are some people just flat out selfish?
With all the mean and selfish people in the world, why do I even bother trying to be kind to anyone?
It starts to spiral for me, and I struggle to find my footing when questions like these batter me. I showed a class this clip from Wonder Woman last week, and I almost cried, because I felt that—using a shield against a barrage of ammunition was too strong a metaphor to take in.
So what to do when the existential crises batter me and the panic attacks set in and no footing can be found?
Well, last week, a pint of Haagen Daaz Rock Road did help slightly.
But here’s a mental health paradox. When the crises and attacks hit, the instinct is to withdraw. Hop in bed, pull the covers over my head, and try to sleep long enough to at least feel a little more numb to the barrage.
The paradox is this: connection is necessary.
It’s sometimes difficult to reach out when my head is swirling with oh so many thoughts. But reaching out—texting a group chat or making time to talk in person with a friend—that is what saves me, every time.
Also, it’s hard to do, every time.
I’m still feeling all manner of existential crises, every single day. But I’m lucky.
I have a great family, with wonderful sisters who answer my texts.
I get to eat lunch every single weekday with people who notice if I’m down and don’t dismiss my existential crises as hysteria.
I have friends all across the country who, if I called, would listen to my endless list of unanswerable questions.
The trick is to take the step and ask for the connection, to not withdraw.
So think about that if you’re feeling the push to withdraw. Send me a text, give me a call and I’ll sit with you for a spell.
