We All Kinda Suck

A couple of years ago when I went through my grand breakdown (head here if you want the rundown on that) I also had made up my mind that I was the most imperfect person. Not just like, that I knew. But the most imperfect person, period. I felt alone physically because I didn't particularly want to be around people. And that's fairly easy to articulate. But I also had a doom cloud hanging over me that convinced me that I was the only depressed, anxious, broken person on Earth. It's silly, I know. And unfortunately, at some point or another, everyone's probably been there.

So, when I went home, I slowly had to explain why. My co-workers were wondering why I wanted my job back. I told my friends that I'd known for years as abridged a version as I could muster up. You know, just long enough to include the layout of my deep depression, but also short enough that I wouldn't burst into tears every time I talked about my life. I couldn't pinpoint the exact feeling at the time, and I really can't now. But I would say that at my lowest, I felt like I sucked.

When you share the deep, dark and twisty parts of your life with your people, they do one of two things. Scenario one: they awkwardly offer room temperature condolences because they don't know what to say (which usually comes from a place of love, and I've been there so I get it.) Scenario two: they tell you that they went through it once, or they're going through it right now, or that their sister/dad/girlfriend's brother went through it and it was tough but then it got better.

Scenario #1 will make your heart lukewarm, at best. This, my guy, it what one might call "the easy way." Have you ever noticed that people usually offer this when you're closed off about your emotions or your situation? Typically, when I give people the outline- the barebones "I'm super sad and don't want to move or exist and it sucks a lot"- that they give you the lifeless "That sounds tough. I hope you feel better soon!" response. And while they probably mean it, people can only meet you where you'll meet them.

I know that sounds vague, but we'll loop back around.

Scenario #2 offers warmth, connection, and most of all, it pulls you out of the isolation zone. This typically requires a lot of vulnerability on your part. I used to visibly roll my eyes at the "v" word, but it's now the backbone of my life and what I strive for every day, so if you just rolled your eyes when you read it, saddle up.

When you share your worst parts with someone, it opens the door for them to feel comfortable sharing theirs with you. Maybe not always, but from my experience, it's rare for it to go any other way.

For example, when I started my journey, my mom (lovingly referred to as Saundge) struggled with my diagnosis from my therapist and psychiatrist. It took time-the worst, most effective solution to most problems- and some education on different mental health topics, and she came around. She shared my experience with one of her clients (because being the mom of someone having a mental health crisis is understandably a struggle in and of itself) and her client told her about her own mental health crisis from the years past. Saundge shared with me what her client went through, how she coped, and all of the advice she told my mom to give to me, from one person who'd lived to tell the tale to another. And then it clicked!

I was having a hard time letting people in and it was crippling me. Besides my therapist and Saundge of course, no one knew the backstory. Or the in's and out's of what it was I was dealing with beneath the surface. And through my mom's willingness to share my story, and the positive feedback it brought, I was able to see that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't the only person who issues put their entire life on hold.

After a couple of months of therapy and slowly opening myself and my story up to those in my life, I found a lot of common ground with people. I would've never expected that some of my friends could relate to me and my mega-sized breakdown. This level of connection seriously filled me up, and after the initial connection, it just got easier. At some point, I was telling co-workers I'd only known a couple of months. People that I haven't even seen since now know more about me than you could imagine. I'm telling you, your story gets less painful the more you tell it. Your anxiety will lie to you and assure you that others won't accept you. They sure will.

[I would say that maybe 1 out of every like 20 people looks at me like I am a psycho. I wouldn't recommend it. Just as a rule of thumb, when someone's opening up to you about their mental incompetency, maybe don't show that you think they're a wacko. They aren't. But that's for a whole different post.]

All of this brings me back to the idea that people can only meet you where you'll meet them.

We're all different, obviously, but we're also all people. Deep down, our logical minds know none of us ever feel emotions that have never been felt by at least one other individual on the planet. But, when you're deep in the trenches, logical thinking can kind of go out the window. With that said, it's very likely that even though the person may not have gone through the exact thing you're going through, we all have our shit storms. We all have our rock bottoms.

If you don't communicate how deep your valley is, how can anyone venture to the bottom of it with you? It's like any relationship- no one can read your mind. No one instinctively knows what you need at any given time. It sucks, but you have to say it. You have to dig deep and be willing to have a conversation about it. I know that's not the answer you want to hear.

My advice:

• Make a list with the script flipped. Think of all of the people you love in your life. If they came to you with this exact problem, would you be empathetic towards them? Would you be willing to meet them in their valley? If the answer is yes, then the odds are they're likely willing to do the same. (If they're not, you'll find out and life will painfully weed them off of your list. Don't worry about this at this very second. Again, another topic for another day.) 

• Start small and private. This seems obvious. But don't try to connect with your entire friend group about your woes when you're all together at game night. Invite whoever you want to connect with to coffee, or your place if you want to be able to cry. (I shamelessly cry in public at this point so coffee will work if you are, too.) When I started to be real real with my tribe, I tried to do it casually, one on one. I remember a friend picking me up to take me shopping for an outfit for a job interview. He asked me why I was home so suddenly, and I was completely honest. I skipped the barebones and gave him the full body (is that how I'm supposed to word that?!) and it was one of the first connections I felt after the initial Saundge connection. It was low pressure because it was just him and me, and we were in a safe place. Once I ripped the band-aid off and had a positive response, it got a lot easier to stay open with the rest of my people. 

• Remember who you are. I’ll touch on this a million more times, probably, because it's a driving force in my daily life. But write this down on a sticky note and throw it on your fridge or mirror. Maybe both. You are doing the world, and yourself, a disservice when you're inauthentic. We all have a story, and no one's story is exempt from a whole lot of unpleasant bullshit. If it is, they're either boring or lying. The world needs you. So remember that you are only you because of the very best and very worst moments of your life. And the world needs you. Forgive yourself, and know that this is who you are and its beautiful no matter how messy you feel it is.

• Show perfect people your ducks. There are people I assumed had their ducks in the straightest of rows. And when I told them that my ducks were strewn about, and possibly not even ducks anymore, they told me that at one point (or possibly, even right then at the same time) their ducks weren't either. We all only post our highlights. Sharing unlocks doors. So don't count someone out of your share circle because you assume there's no way they could've gone through it. I don't care what presets they have on their Instagram profile, or what their Facebook statuses about living their dream life say. I wrote some of those in my deepest pit. I can't tell you how good it feels to hear that life is tough for everyone, even the Kim K's of our friend group.

• If you can't save yourself, save someone else. Wouldn't it have just made your day if someone had shared their most awful shit with you and made you feel less alone? The answer is yes! You would've never felt alone in the first place! It sucks majorly that anything bad has to happen to any of us. But you can now be a vehicle for change in someone's life. If you can't share and be vulnerable for you, do it for someone who's in your boat. I can't tell you how insanely happy it makes me when I hear someone say, "Thank you for sharing that. XYZ happened to me and I thought I was the only one." It's hard to show up for me sometimes. So I choose to show up for those who need me and may not even know it yet.

Self-care tip #1: Be vulnerable. It’s not just you. We all kinda suck.

Homework: If you haven't already, read "The Gifts of Imperfection" by Brené Brown, the vulnerability queen. If you've already read it, go read it again. I needed it way before I read it, and it can dive deeper into the "v" word than I can in one sitting.