I have been kicking around a question in my mind today. I was going to talk to my friend Kim Scheinberg privately, because she is good at this stuff, but in light of the death of Robin Williams, I think I will post it publicly, because maybe we all need to have this conversation. Here goes: As my mental health improves day by day and year by year, I now have zero problem accepting that when things take a downturn from me, even a slight one, it is absolutely necessary to get emotional support and guidance (e.g. take medication, seek psychotherapy.) I really am zero tolerance about the white knuckle approach to getting better solo. I need help, I get help, help works for me, not getting help is dangerous. End of that story. However, more and more I am finding that my *real* struggle these days comes when thinking about how to get support and guidance when I am feeling relatively strong and capable (e.g getting a personal trainer, hooking up with a life coach etc., finding a class to help me sort my finances, etc.) This brings me to my question, which is this: Why does self-care only feel socially acceptable to me (i.e. not a luxury, a waste of money better spent elsewhere, something I should be able to handle by myself) when Im in full-blown crisis? When did I get it in my head that the only reality worth paying attention to is the most dire reality? Shouldnt our lives have more nuance and worth than that? Shouldnt mine? I know to some people, my question might not seem at all related to a story about suicide, but I dont know. I think it might be more connected than we think. Thoughts, as ever, welcomed.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Aug 2014 23:28:42 +0000
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