I've been getting a lot better at not feeling bad about """"down""" times (lots of quotes, because I think the pressure of society makes one feel as if every minute must be spent doing something life-changing). The other day I got up a lot later than I would have liked, but instead of thinking I "should" have got up, I asked myself, "Do you need more time to rest? When will you be ready to get up?" And what do you know? I eventually got up, made myself breakfast, showered, even had the energy to go out from one city to another and have coffee and cake with my mother. And come home, and do the groceries with my partner. When back when I wrote this I would have probably stayed in bed feeling bad for myself and getting angry at myself for "wasting time"...
Yesterday--because she asked if what she heard was true--I came out and told my mother I did in fact go to therapy on my own after raising some funds online, and I told her that I did have depression and anxiety.
She asked me, "How are you now? Do you think you're okay now?"
I said I was a lot better now, that the therapy really changed my life--and I felt so sad that it's still inaccessible to a lot of people, a lot of warm-hearted people who really need it--and that I wanted to do something about battling the stigma against mental illness. That I wanted to help with mental health advocacy.
It turns out my mom is now actively helping with mental health advocacies too.
And I feel a lot better now that I could finally tell her without fear of being reprimanded for my mental and emotional needs. No, I don't think we've gotten to the nitty-gritty of things--but we've finally touched based on the surface level and I think that counts for something, one rainy day at a cozy little cafe, our embrace warmer than the coffee in our cups.