When “Take Care of Yourself” Is Impossible

When “Take Care of Yourself” Is Impossible

On any given day, I can be bombarded by several "afflictions" at the same time. I may begin the day depressed because I am bipolar. Then the vertigo and vision impairment start. After that comes anxiety and/or agoraphobia, and sometimes it all merges into something close to panic.

I have to be strong in order to stand up to these things. But on a day when I am weak, overwhelmed, and have no energy, there is nothing I can do.

There are many people living with mental illness who know this experience in their own way. Some of us cannot simply be “fixed.”  Yet we are still expected to take care of ourselves, even at the very times when we are least able to do so.

Talking about mental health is not enough. The system fails people who are already below the poverty line, isolated, sick, or unable to push through the endless obstacles required to get help.

People tend to presume that finding help is a simple matter: 

Go make the call, fill out the forms, go to the appointment, follow the rules, keep trying. 

But those things can be difficult or impossible when a person is severely depressed, frightened to leave the house, in pain, unable to think clearly, without transportation, or simply too exhausted to keep fighting a bureaucracy.

Too often, people are judged for not being able to manage their own illness perfectly. They are called lazy, difficult, uncooperative, or complainers. But the real question should be: what happens to a person when they need help most and are least able to organize it for themselves?

They need more than advice to “take care of yourself.” They need steady treatment that does not vanish when a therapist leaves, practical help with forms and appointments, transportation, affordable medication, safe housing, enough income to survive, and someone who checks in rather than waiting for a crisis to become catastrophic.

It took me a while to put up a post saying I was having a very bad day. I almost did not do it because I worried people would think I was complaining. Some probably would—especially those who do not understand. But I decided to do it for all the people whose days are filled with suffering, pain, loneliness, and isolation, and who may feel they have no right to say so.

We are not problems to be fixed, nor burdens to be ignored until we disappear from view. We are people living through conditions that can take over the mind and body without warning. We deserve dignity, support, and a system that does not abandon us precisely when we are too ill to fight it alone.