A journey of mental health wellbeing is akin to the journey of life itself. There is no tangible destination. I have no choice but to keep moving forward, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. It oftentimes gets tiresome and there are no pit stops to take a rest. It is a relentless, onward journey.
Sometimes, when the medications and appointments and self-care become too much and the routines become too tedious, I run out of steam and give up for a little while. That’s where I’m at right now. I’m throwing a tantrum and taking a rest.
I’m frustrated with medication side-effects, pissed off at having to run every decision by a whole team of people as if I can’t think for myself. I’m so tired of thinking about how to stay well and how to avoid depression and hypomania. At times like these, it seems easier to succumb to the madness and revel in the freedom of raw emotion and spontaneity.
I wish I had a switch to turn off my logical self. Even now, it tells me to talk to my “wellbeing team”, to let them know how I’m feeling, to keep taking dose after dose after dose of medication. To keep meditating every day, keep walking off the agitation, keep breathing away the anxiety, keep planning away the stress. I feel like I’m wrapping myself up in cotton wool and I’m being smothered by it, drowning in caution and pragmatism. I can’t stand it anymore.
A good friend once told me that temporary “quitting” is a natural part of my wellbeing journey. “Giving up” is not failure, it is not getting lost on my way to wellbeing, and it is not bad. It simply is part of my journey. It gives me time to rejuvenate and to rediscover my motivation to keep moving forward. No one ever did promise me that the path would be straight or easy or enjoyable. So, for now, I allow myself this tantrum. I’m making a pit stop and taking a rest.