Stability Is A Suggestion

This post almost didn’t happen this week. About a week and a half ago, I lost my grandmother. She was 94, which is an impressive run by any standard. While it’s sad that she’s gone, there is also some comfort in knowing she’s no longer in pain. That’s one of the strange things about grief. It can hold more than one truth at the same time. I also missed posting last week. That wasn’t an accident. I was with my family, where I needed to be. Grief is complicated on its own. When you add mental health into the mix, it can get a little more unpredictable. For me, there’s always a quiet awareness in the background. Grief has the potential to pull me into a depressive episode if I’m not paying attention. Not guaranteed, but possible. So I try to approach it with a little more intention. One thing that helps is giving myself space to feel it. Usually, that means allowing a full day where I don’t try to manage or minimize anything. If I’m sad, I’m sad. If I cry, I cry. It’s not the only ...

 Working any job while managing your mental health can be a challenge. Deadlines, workload, meetings, people. None of those stop just because your brain is having a day. I work in IT, which means most of my job exists in a world of tickets, messages, and things that need to be fixed, usually sooner rather than later. From the outside, it looks very structured. From the inside, it can vary quite a bit depending on how my brain is cooperating that day. The biggest thing that helps me is keeping some version of work-life balance. Not a perfect version. Just one that works most of the time. I tend to think of it as two modes: Work Me and Outside of Work Me. Work Me shows up for my 7 hour and 45 minute shift. That is the time where I focus on getting things done, answering messages, and being a functional, reliable employee. It does not mean I never work longer, but I try to keep that the exception. Burnout is not a goal I am trying to achieve. Outside of Work Me is everythi...

 It turns out that managing mental health is a lot like managing anything else in life. You need tools. Not perfect ones. Not aesthetic ones. Just things that work often enough to be worth keeping around. Over time, I’ve built what I think of as a mental health toolbox. These are things I reach for when my brain starts doing its own thing. They work for me. They might work for you. If they don’t, that’s fine too. There are plenty of other tools out there. This is just my version of the kit. One of the main issues I run into is a cluttered brain. Not in a productive, “lots of ideas” way. More like everything is happening at once and none of it is organized. Sometimes the thoughts are fine. Sometimes they are very much not. On a good day, I can literally just tell my brain to calm down. It’s not as dramatic as it sounds. It’s more like, “Hey. Not right now. We’ll come back to this.” And surprisingly, when I’m in a stable place, that actually works. When I’m not, espe...

 “Stable” is one of those words that sounds very official and very defined. It is not. What’s stable for one person might feel completely unmanageable to someone else. Even for the same person, it can change over time. It’s less of a fixed state and more of a moving target that I occasionally manage to stand near. Right now, stable for me looks like waking up in a mostly good mood. My brain is still talking. It does not take days off. But it’s manageable. It’s not overwhelming, and it’s not pulling me too far in either direction. I’m not overly up, not overly down. Maybe leaning slightly one way or the other, but still somewhere in the middle where I can function. And honestly, that middle space is the goal. Stable also looks like being able to do normal, everyday things without a lot of resistance. I eat. I interact with people without overthinking every word. I don’t feel completely drained just existing. It also means I can get things done. Not in a hyper-product...

 It’s one thing to talk about mental health. It’s another to show what it actually looks like. This is a fairly typical day for me. Not a great day. Not a bad day. Just… neutral. I wake up and immediately start thinking about what comes next. The dogs need to go out. How much time do I have before work? Is there anything I absolutely need to do before I log on? Usually, it’s just the dogs. They go out, then come upstairs with me to my office, where they will spend the day supervising in varying levels of helpfulness. I start my workday by going through emails and checking messages that came in after I logged off the day before. It helps me get a sense of direction. I keep a notebook with notes from previous days, so I review that to see what still needs attention. It’s not glamorous, but it keeps things from falling through the cracks when my brain decides to be less cooperative. At some point in the morning, before my husband starts work, I make his breakfast and coffee...

 This blog almost didn’t happen. Not because I didn’t want to write it, but because I know myself. I am not historically excellent at long-term consistency. I am, however, very good at getting deeply invested in something, buying all the metaphorical supplies, and then… quietly moving on while the project sits there, unfinished, judging me. This is not just a blog problem. This is a life pattern. Crafts, projects, hobbies; you name it. At any given time, I probably have at least one abandoned “this is my new thing” sitting somewhere in my house. And this isn’t even my first attempt at blogging. I once started a blog to document diet and exercise, thinking public accountability would magically turn me into a consistent person. It did not. I also started a blog while processing my brother’s death. That one started with intention, but eventually felt like I was circling the same thoughts over and over again, just using slightly different words. So yeah, history suggested ...