Why can’t I tell you about my mental illness?

Dear friend, thank you for your interest, but I can’t share with you, because I’m afraid you won’t understand. It is impossible for you to understand. And even if you did understand, the fact that I think you don’t or can’t will not help me open up to you, nor does it help me when I think you might be judging me without warning.

You probably don’t understand that thought, but there you have it; You don’t understand. Even if you did, I couldn’t understand why you would, and I’d have a hard time believing you.

You see, we have a real problem if you really want me to do it or have an expectation that I share. And please don’t pressure me. The force freezes me, and I may never open up to you, given the chance, or ever again.

I might think it can help, if only I’d share it. As it is, in my current state, I cannot see how you could help me, and even if I could see, and you could help me, I would fight to allow you to help me.

Please understand.

It feels impossible from here. But why do I seek understanding when I don’t even for a moment expect you to understand? If I think it’s absurd, how could I expect you to think otherwise? However, to help, you would need to convince me that you really understand. Good luck with that!

I can’t tell you what’s going on, because I’m not sure where or how to start. I could just start, but then I would also find myself misunderstanding myself, and almost everything you would say could be wrong. Even those who help also say a lot of useless things. It’s great that they keep trying though, but it’s exhausting at best and insulting at worst. The good thing for them is that they don’t know how much some things they say hurt. But, that doesn’t help me.

I can’t tell you where I am either, because I doubt I have the energy. Breathing is the challenge of the moment right now. Breathing and just holding my sorry life together. Look, it sounds like a full-blown pity party at happy hour. You do not get it! Well, how do you expect me to understand? I would trade this for anything. And I know very well that there are many who have a much worse time than me; all it does is make me feel more guilty and ashamed, and deeper into the sinkhole i’m going to.

Even if I did share it it would be brief and I couldn’t give you my whole heart on the matter because I don’t know where to find it. My identity and being seem to have become a mystery, and any effort to find myself in something true seems elusive.

So, understand that you can’t understand and accept where that leaves us… and suddenly you might start helping.

signed,

The person struggling with anxiety and depression.

***

Being invited into the heart of a person struggling with mental illness is its own miracle. That heart is a sensitive place where listeners are welcome but can never feel at home.

Respect that.

Understand that you cannot understand, and suddenly, right there, understanding begins to come.

The guilt experienced by people with mental illness is part of the problem. Understand that guilt is a valid emotion, although sick, based on the best of intentions to relate in love; recognize their own disability. He understands that the mind games they endure are relentless and exhausting.

Let this not be a discouragement to stop listening and reach out. It works for the opposite. Listeners, helpers and supporters will be much more tenacious than ever in your care.

Don’t give up if someone says, ‘you can’t understand’. You can’t, but that in itself is a useful place to start.