Mental Health Isn’t Something Other People Have
Inside Nat's Notebook - Real Reflections for Real Change
There’s a strange thing we do with mental health. We talk about it as though it belongs to a particular group of people: people who are struggling, people who have a diagnosis, people who are off work, people who have reached the point where life has become very obviously difficult. The rest of us? Apparently we’re just getting on with it. Which is a bit like saying physical health only becomes relevant when you break your leg. Until then, presumably, you don’t have a body.
You have mental health today. I have mental health today. The person who irritated you in traffic this morning has mental health today, although admittedly you may not have been particularly concerned about theirs at the time. And here’s where I think it gets really interesting: none of us stays in exactly the same place. Not across a lifetime, not across a year and sometimes not even across a Tuesday.
Think about yesterday. Were you one thing all day? Of course you weren’t. You may have woken up feeling pretty good, wandered into the bathroom, caught sight of yourself in the mirror and thought, Ooooh, looking rather fabulous today. Then an email landed badly. Somebody annoyed you. Something you thought would take ten minutes swallowed half your morning, and by lunchtime your earlier fabulousness had apparently left the building. Then somebody made you properly laugh, the kind where you forget what you were worrying about because for that moment you’re simply there, laughing. So which one was the real you? All of them.
That, for me, is the spectrum of mental health. It isn’t simply the difference between having a brilliant year and having a terrible one. You can move along that spectrum within a day, sometimes within an hour and sometimes, remarkably, within the ten minutes between sitting somewhere trying desperately to pull yourself together and walking into a room saying, “Morning!” as though you haven’t just had an entire human experience behind a closed door.
I know that one. You straighten yourself up, walk in, answer the questions and make the decisions. Maybe you even make everyone else laugh. You do what you do because somehow humans have this extraordinary ability to gather themselves and carry on. The tricky part is that we are then very good at using what somebody can do as evidence of how they are. They came to work, they laughed, they gave a brilliant presentation, they remembered your birthday, did the school run, paid the bills and sent three laughing faces to the group chat. Case closed, apparently. Absolutely fine.
Except all that really tells us is that they did those things. We do exactly the same thing to ourselves. If you’re still doing everything you normally do, it’s very easy to decide you must be okay. Never mind that everything seems to take twice as much effort lately. You’re doing it, aren’t you? And if you’re doing it, surely that means you’re managing. Except maybe the more interesting question isn’t whether you’re managing. Maybe it’s what managing actually feels like at the moment.
Sometimes change is surprisingly quiet. You’re a little more tired. Your patience has mysteriously packed a bag and gone somewhere without leaving a forwarding address. Things you normally enjoy feel a bit meh. You’re still doing life, but somehow life feels heavier to do. And before we turn every grumpy Tuesday into a mental health crisis, sometimes you’re tired because you stayed up watching three episodes of something when you absolutely knew you were only going to watch one. Sometimes you’re irritated because somebody is being irritating. Sometimes you’re sad because something sad happened. Sometimes you’re hungry, and everyone would be wise to give you ten minutes and a sandwich. That’s being human too.
This is why I’ve always preferred thinking about mental health as a spectrum rather than a checklist. A spectrum gives us room to move. Sometimes you’re flying. Sometimes you’re okay. Sometimes everything requires a little more effort. Sometimes getting through an ordinary day feels worthy of a certificate and possibly a small parade. And sometimes you can visit all of those places before teatime.
And please notice, the spectrum doesn’t only move towards struggle. Maybe lately you’ve been laughing more. Maybe something that used to bother you doesn’t seem quite so important anymore. Maybe your shoulders feel softer, you’re sleeping properly, and you’ve got energy left at the end of the day. You catch yourself singing in the car and think, Oh hello, there I am. That counts too. Recognising your mental health isn’t about searching yourself for signs that something is wrong. It’s about knowing yourself well enough to notice what being you feels like. Goodness me, everything feels harder lately. Or equally, do you know what? I feel really rather good. Both tell you something.
And this is where I think the workplace conversation becomes particularly important. Workplaces have traditionally become very interested in mental health once somebody is visibly struggling. Support at that point matters enormously, of course it does, but mental health at work isn’t just the person who eventually goes off sick. It’s everybody who walked through the door that morning.
Think about how gloriously human any workplace actually is. Somebody has fallen in love and is pretending to concentrate. Somebody else is going through a divorce and is also pretending to concentrate. The new starter is trying to remember everybody’s name. Someone had an argument before leaving home. Someone has just received brilliant news. The manager who appears completely unflappable needed five minutes alone before coming inside. Someone is having the best year of their career, and someone is mostly thinking about what they’re having for lunch. Then we put all of these humans in meetings together and wonder why workplace wellbeing is complicated.
I believe this is the bigger conversation that we need to be having about mental health. Not simply what we do when somebody reaches the point where they are struggling, important though that is, but whether we become better at recognising that mental health belongs to all of us and moves with us through life. That gives us the chance to notice ourselves and each other with a little more curiosity and hopefully a little more kindness. Because where you are today is information about where you are today. It is not a definition of who you are.
#Rebel Moment
Instead of deciding whether your mental health is “good” or “bad” today, ask a more human question: How am I actually doing today? Then give yourself long enough to hear the answer.
If this is a conversation your workplace needs to be having too, come and explore The Little Packet. Real talk, real tools and workplace wellbeing your people actually use.
Stay Blessed!
LoveLove
Nat x
Fancy a little more Little Soul Shack in your life?
If you’re tired of feeling permanently switched on and you’re ready to feel calmer, sleep properly and enjoy your life more, Little Soul Shack Membership gives you somewhere to actually practise what we talk about here, with support, sessions and a community alongside you.
Explore Little Soul Shack Membership → Here
Not quite ready for that? Stay close. The Sunday Pause lands in your inbox every Sunday with something to think about, something useful to take into your week and, usually, something to make you smile.
Join The Sunday Pause → Here
Comments