Open Letter: There Will Be Someone

Dear reader,

I have to tell you something.

One day, as I was scrolling through social media, I came across various posts and articles about the state of the mental health of people today. I gathered that the pandemic has taken a toll on the mental well-being of so many. Countless people are drowned with their thoughts, consumed with nervousness and restlessness, and chased by the feeling of fear, panic, and dread. It was only then that I realized that I am one of the countless people.

With the pandemic, multiple unwelcomed and intrusive thoughts have been visiting me. My mind has been going haywire; I cannot control it. I started to feel more anxious each passing day. The feeling of being tense has aroused frequently. I didn’t do anything productive in an entire day; I wasn’t meeting constant demands. I am extremely frustrated with myself.

My mental health was like a whiny toddler. I could not be assertive when it yelled, squealed, or lost control. I tried reaching some people I thought I could count on. However, the lengthy string of hope I had that at least one person would understand my situation vanished. I received the same dismissive responses from several people.

“It’s all in your head.”

“You're just imagining things.”

“Are you joking?”

“What the hell is happening?”

“Have you gone crazy?”

Carrying the feeling of hopelessness after these conversations, I decided that I will be keeping things to myself, and I would no longer ask for help since no one seems to comprehend what I am trying to say. I isolated myself.

I tried to think of activities to do that would somehow avert my attention from what I am dealing with. I turned to writing poems, reading books, and journaling as my hobbies. Whenever negative emotions would emerge, I’d fight them by composing poems. It feels refreshing to take out emotions through poetry. It’s like I am a pound lighter.

Moving on, I love how I am in another world through reading books. I get to meet characters, adore them, and get inspired by them. I gain beneficial perspectives that I can carry around in life. By reading books, I felt my stress reduced, and my quality of sleep improved. Lastly, with daily journaling, I was able to give priority to taking care of myself. I tracked my symptoms, recorded my mood, and recognized triggers. Moreover, I have become more self-aware and in control. I felt a substantial connection with myself. Yet, I still feel that something is missing.

For the last time, I decided that I will talk to my sister. I let myself keep my hopes up.

When I started to switch the light on in the dark part of myself that I kept off the map, she said less and heard more. She gave me her complete attention and focused on what I was trying to express. I did not see any judgment or amusement in her eyes. Rather, I saw compassion, concern, and interest. She did not push to offer an instant or insulting reply, but gave a moderate, caring, and respectful one. I felt less alone and less isolated. I felt free from the feeling of stress and tension in me. I felt understood and heard. Ultimately, I got to know that my feelings are valid.

If you’re keeping your mental health experiences and struggles to yourself, remember that there will always be someone willing to listen to you. Someone with whom you can open your heart to take out your bruising pain and hardships. What isn’t said needs to be heard. Just like any other human being, you are susceptible to illness. Nothing is wrong with you.

Sincerely,

Penelope