The Moment My Mental Health Hit A Black Wall

The black wall. You can’t see it until you do. You can’t get past it until you do. It was there, in all of its glory. It appeared one night, stayed for a week, then it was gone. Oh was I thankful for it to be gone.

It was quite literally, the darkest experience I’ve had in life. Having just recently lost a relationship and a job all at once; it felt as if my whole identity had been stripped from me. All I was left with, was my self pity and a little bit of hope that would quickly fade away. I pushed through all of the emotions for a good amount of time. Until one day, my body told me it had enough. It had enough keeping it together by threads and what pieces were left. I laid in bed, with an old t-shirt on and most likely four day old socks. Lying there with no choice but to let my body feel every single feeling I had been suppressing for months. Tears flew out of my eyes as if I had never cried before. My bones felt lifeless. Nothing in life felt important anymore. Nothing felt of value. I didn’t know what I wanted for dinner the next day, because I couldn’t see past each second that went by.

I’m not going to lie to you. It was terrifying. I was terrified. It was in this exact time that I came to realize, mental illness is not a choice. Who would choose this? I felt as if I was sitting on the edge of a cliff, feet dangling down, but looking into a black hole.

Nothing was there; but I knew if I followed the pull into that darkness it would cost me so much more than I could fathom.

I remember pulling myself out of bed to make ravioli, to give my body some substance. I stood in front of the microwave and felt my knees go weak. I couldn’t physically or emotionally hold myself up anymore. Not long enough to warm up ravioli that is. I spent months keeping it together, staying strong, telling myself I could do this; but my body and mind told me to give it up. I wanted to fight against the feelings and thoughts that were crossing my mind. I knew there was fight left in me, but with every ounce of strength, I could not see past that black wall.

It took a week of thoughtless thoughts, and lifeless living. Each day that went on, I couldn’t see the next one coming. I had no certainty in my brain that there would be a tomorrow. Truthfully, sitting here and writing that out, I see how awful that is. But I was numb and broken in all the right places then. My parents and friends did everything they knew how to. “What can we do?”. “How can we help you?”. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”. Unfortunately, in those moments, I only saw darkness. I did not see help. There was not a thing or person in this world that I believed would pull me back out. However, after a week went by; I got up on a Monday morning and went to work. There’s no real explanation for why or how. It was as if my mind and body felt they had rid themselves of all the sadness. I like to think I was a strong, independent woman and did it on my own, but after that week I had; I don’t think the credit goes to me.

The scary thing is, this could have lasted much much longer. It could have been months or years. Or it could have been so long that I eventually would give in to it. A feeling I know some people may know all too well.

To this day, I sometimes ask myself how it got to such a drastic point. I think a lot about how my personality and everything that made me who I was, was so engraved in a man and a job; both who didn’t deserve that from me. I don’t put too much blame on myself though. It was a learning experience because I didn’t know any better. It took a long time for me to view that as something to learn from. Would I have rather none of that happen? Oh one-hundred percent. But would I be half the woman I am today without it? No chance.

Like I said, you don’t see the black wall until you do. You don’t know that feeling until you’re in it. It’s not something that is easy to put into words. It’s been years and I finally feel slightly closer to describing it. I have hope to never find myself in that place again. But if I do, I will get up, make myself some ravioli, remind myself of the power I hold, and get through it once again.

So here’s to me and you. May we continue to be the best version of ourselves that we know how to. May we forever be reminded our identity lies within ourselves only.

May you always know, the strength you need to pull yourself out of that darkness, is already inside of you.

Your friend, Caroline