Everywhere we turn, we hear about the importance of mental health – ads for antidepressants, the creation of suicide hotlines, and reminders to check in with others who may be struggling. As a nation, we are finally trying to normalize the need for solid mental health, and I am grateful for this shift. Coming from a family that has a history of depression, bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses, it is something I have always dealt with, even before I could put words to feelings I couldn’t explain.
For many years, I had no idea why I couldn’t drag myself out of bed or why I always felt different or less than. It was the demon of depression rearing its ugly head, time and again. Sometimes depression was triggered by challenging relationships or situations, but I had to eventually accept that this is a part of me. Depression is a chemical imbalance that is part of my DNA, and it requires daily treatment and awareness to overcome.
For me to maintain control over depression, I have to take responsibility for my own mental health. I have to be conscious of it and put tools and treatments in place that improve my quality of life every single day. Here are some ways that I take responsibility for my mental health. I hope you find them useful.
1. Accept treatment that fits your situation.
In my early 30s, I was going through a particularly painful divorce. I went six weeks without eating or sleeping much, further adding to my depression. I felt like I’d lost control of my life and began seeing a therapist, Judy. She recommended that I try Prozac. I refused. I told Judy that a prescription would not change my situation or heal my pain. We debated the issue often. Judy said the medication wouldn’t change my life, but it would help me better cope with it, allowing me to eat and sleep again. I still said “no.”
Concerned for my welfare, Judy offered a compromise, “What if we get your doctor to prescribe Prozac for PMS? Would you try it then?” Yes! That was something I could get on board with. The monthly hormonal shifts were unbearable at times. As a bonus, when prescribed for PMS by my doctor, Prozac was dispensed in a cute-as-a-button purple and pink capsule, though the medication was exactly the same as the one in the yellow and green capsule. Apparently, I wasn’t the only person who had a hard time accepting I needed medication for depression. Thank you, Judy, for pushing me.
2. Follow the advice of your healthcare professionals.
A prescription is not a cure-all. It requires monitoring and management. Taking a pill did not make my problems go away. I had to take responsibility for my health in its entirety. I continued therapy with Judy, I had my medication adjusted by my doctor as needed, and I (usually) resisted the desire to stop my medication when I started feeling better. That said, I think it is healthy to question that advice upon occasion and change strategies and treatments as needed. But don’t try to go it alone. It may be to your detriment to wing it.
3. Make a list of things that make you feel better to refer to when you’re struggling.
I keep a list on my phone. When I feel myself going down the rabbit hole, I refer to the list to see what might provide relief, because when I’m down, I’m not creative or patient enough to come up with helpful ideas. Here are a few items from my list:
· Exercise, especially swimming
· Healthy eating
· Walking along the waterfront
· Listening to the waves
· Being outdoors, enjoying nature
· Lunch with friends
· Cuddling with my pets
· A hot bubble bath
· A “happy” playlist
· Dancing
· Writing
· Being kind to others
· Volunteering
· Any Trolls or Pitch Perfect movie!
4. Reach out to friends and family.
This is one of the most difficult things for me to do. While I know intellectually that asking for help is a strength, I have an incredibly hard time reaching out, especially when I’m struggling. In recent years, I’ve developed a network of amazing friends who know when I’m not myself, and they ask me if I’m OK. Sometimes they notice it even before I do. They have created a safe space for me to admit I’m struggling, and they are willing to listen, spend time with me or just send a friendly text to say “hi.” Keep these people on speed dial – and return the favor whenever you can. Mutual support is so powerful.
5. Get a copy of The Depression Cure.
In 2013, on the heels of another failed relationship, I had a severe case of depression. I couldn’t get out of bed, I didn’t eat, and I wouldn’t leave the house or talk to my friends. I only talked to family members who lived in my household, but only because I couldn’t avoid them. I knew I was in a dark place, and I couldn’t turn it around on my own. I found The Depression Cure by Stephen S. Ilardi, PhD, on Amazon. It has had such a positive impact on my life.
The book shares a six-step process to beating depression without drugs. I knew I couldn’t give up my medication, but I followed the other steps and it works! I am fine most of the time now, but when I feel myself slipping, I pull out the book to remind myself of the simple steps, recommended by Ilardi: restoring dietary balances by taking fish oil, stop ruminating, get plenty of exercise and light, connect with others and increase healthy sleep.
6. Say “Yes!”
Inspired by Yes Man by Danny Wallace (thank you, Robyn!) and Shonda Rhimes’s Year of Yes, when I am teetering on the edge of isolation, I refer back to one of these two gems. The authors in their respective books wrote about how they transformed their lives by saying “yes” to things they would ordinarily say “no” to, whether it was attending a party, applying for a new job, losing weight, dating, etc. When I’m down and want to be alone, I know that I have to say “yes” to invitations and trying new things. I won’t lie – it is one of the hardest things for me to do – but I have never once regretted saying “yes.” It inevitably leads to an experience or adventure that I wouldn’t have initiated on my own. Writing is one of the things I said “yes” to. The discipline it requires, the freedom to express myself and the positive feedback I get fuel me to keep doing it. This summer is my summer of “yes!
These are six ways that help me stay focused on my mental health and to take responsibility for how I’m feeling and what I need. I don’t take this responsibility lightly, nor do I do it in a vacuum. Connecting to and communicating with others to learn from and lean on is priceless.
How do you take care of your mental health? I’d love to learn what works for you!
Thanks for reading.
I'm so thankful this topic is less taboo than in the past--and that you shared your voice. So important and impactful. You are brave AND wise
I love this so much, Dana. It needs to be said! This has been quite a topic in my circles of late, centered on trigger warnings in media (film, TV, fiction, lyrics, dance, etc). I'm a writer of dark contemporary fiction, some of it psychological, some paranormal, some of it leaning into horror. What I write can absolutely be triggering to others.
The challenge in including trigger warnings (especially in challenging genres where one expects to be unsettled by what they read) is so complex because people who are creating story in whatever medium cannot possibly know all the different ways that people can be triggered. At the same time, trigger warnings can become unwitting spoilers for readers, and that's no fun either. It's the unfolding of the mysterious in fiction that keeps them reading,
As someone with my own MH challenges, I know I have my own triggers and there's no way other people--including storymakers--would ever guess them. I have come to realize that the only way for me to interact with potentially triggering material is to have my own emotional tools in place to offset them and to take responsibility for managing them. It could mean quietly leaving a space (virtual or in real life), breathing through moments where I can't remove myself, diverting my attention elsewhere, meditation after the fact, etc.
All to say that, yes, the world is brimming with horrors... some of them consensually and collectively agreed upon, and others that are unique to individuals (and often invisible to everyone else). At the end of the day, it's still my job to mitigate risk as I move through the world carrying my own burdens and monsters and fears.