Is It Ever Enough?

Sometimes in life, you reach a crossroads of, “is enough ever enough?” As well as, “how much is enough?” If you’re like me and have trouble with communicating boundaries, the answer is probably somewhere between yes and enough was back somewhere around the age of 15.

How do you know when it’s time to make a change, or take your stand? How do you convey that you’ve reached your limit, when the common expectation is for you to quietly deal with constantly being pushed past it? I’ve tried being gently/aggressively honest about my limits and was labeled “ungrateful for my blessings”. I’ve danced around the issues and got told to, “suck it up, you don’t have it that bad.”

While the latter of the above statements is true, it’s also true that my reality is the only life experience I know. While I am heart-broken over the poverty stricken children in Africa, and appalled by the amount of police brutality running rampant, I am still allowed to hurt over the short comings I experience. I am allowed to hurt over the fact I had a boss who held my position over my head to manipulate me into letting him molest me (never nude), I am allowed to hurt over the fact I grew up with a meth cook for a father who broke my home and refused to get help to be the father he said he wanted to be. I’m allowed to hurt over the fact that I begged my mom to help me avoid the abusive gaslighting my step-dad put me through. What is boils down to, is that we are allowed to be upset and work through these situations to heal.

We can all be touched by situational depression or anxiety, but clinical is different from what I’ve described above. Clinical depression (as well as Major Depressive Disorder) is a lack of balance in the chemicals in your brain. Whether your brain doesn’t produce enough serotonin on its own, or your anxiety doesn’t have a pattern to follow it just crops up, it isn’t as easy to identify or describe to others exactly what is wrong. Those closest to us do NOT want to actually see us hurt. They want us to be able to resolve the discontent in our lives, and be happy. Reminds me of a popular saying..

The path to hell is paved by good intentions.

Those we love do have our best interests at heart, regardless of how we feel about them. I would like to ask though, when you’re in the midst of a mental health crisis, who would you trust more? The voice in your head telling you all of your missteps and shortcomings, or the people closest to you who are (sometimes tactlessly) reminding you of why you shouldn’t be feeling so badly about yourself?

Just like in relationships, there’s a certain language those of us communicate with that experience these crises. It’s like a love language for the faint of heart. It’s a language that only really those of us who have similar experiences can decode. It’s deeper than face value, but still somewhat superficial. Ideation and reality of execution have very important differences in what we are telling others.

You are safe to express yourself here. I promise to understand (or try to), and communicate with you until we are on the same page. I will not judge you, nor will I tell everyone (including authorities) what you’re feeling in the moment. I know that for at least myself, I need to get the ideations out of my mouth so they get out of my head. Let’s start helping our chosen family to thrive instead of survive. Like, subscribe, or email me to chat about what’s bothering you. You’ve got a new friend in me!

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