Feeling Bad Made Me Feel Good
A diary entry storytime.
I can’t remember who told me this, but the message was so powerful — it was engraved in my mind the second I heard it.
You might have heard it in your surroundings. It goes something like this:
If you are feeling well, that is a bad sign, and something will go south soon enough. Likewise, if you feel bad, better times will happen soon enough.
I do, however, want to acknowledge that I find this saying or a phrase to be just that, a saying or a phrase. Maybe even unsolicited advice.
Speaking only from personal experience, I find that generalizing anything, including phrases, can’t be true for everyone because of our different social backgrounds, childhood experiences, and individual characteristics, even though I don’t think we’re all that different, but that’s a topic for another time.
I found myself “at the crossroads” of feeling physically unwell and emotionally drained, and that realization was sudden. Actually, it came right when I “collapsed,” and naturally, the internal disbelief and shock made me wonder how it happened.
I was not surprised to find out that one of my favorite, fantastic YouTube creators, John Green, made a video about a similar topic, in which I did recognize myself, to a certain point:
The physical sickness started a month and a half before the “collapse.” I know that because a family member I spent much time with was ill. Or that is what I’ve been telling myself. It is disappointing how easy it is to lie to oneself, thinking we are protecting ourselves. But here is a rhetorical question I don’t have an answer to: Why do some people find it hard to confront themselves and just be honest? The actual reason might very well be that a day earlier, I randomly spent some time with a person I’m not sure why I spent time with, that was a bit sick. This person was a part of my romantic life briefly, and this time around, for the first time, I felt bad for days after the hangout.
Since the beginning of the collapsing episode, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, notwithstanding all the events happening throughout that period. Just a relatively healthy girl in her late twenties with a congested nose and throat, with a high fever for a couple of days, not wanting to miss her school friend’s wedding that weekend, and an exciting trip with family and friends to the nearby mountains next weekend.
Usually, that is my default way of reacting. Holding in or, and not noticing signs until just before the collapse. And thankfully, nothing extreme happened — I ended up with heavy coughing, an ear I couldn’t hear from for days, and an ear infection because of the high altitude of the mountain I spent time at and the shitty weather at the wedding. People have been going through much worse, so I’m not complaining. Still, I acknowledge my reaction and suffering are valid.
After another doctor visit and a week of therapy, I found my condition not improving and somehow got food poisoning the same day. So, alone in my home, I tried to take care of myself and endure the physical pain, but instead, I started balling and thinking of people I’ve been missing in my life.
That must mean something.
Why would a particular name of a person I miss be the first thing that comes to mind when I feel sick? Another rhetorical question, no answers. I’m just asking and wondering away here.
Maybe there are some signs I am missing? Too bad now I don’t usually allow myself to research that topic in depth because of a probable superiority complex — “Those things are nonsensical, don’t read into them, people like to find excuses,” I would frequently hear myself convincing — myself.
Two beautiful things came out of the whole situation:
1. Because of the crying, blowing my nose, and coughing heavier, I managed to unclog my unhearing ear,
2. I let myself believe that the whole event is closely related to emotional baggage showing up as an intense physical discomfort.
The repercussions of my earlier collapses lasted for a long time, truthfully, months on end, until I succeeded in rebuilding/rebranding myself. Arguably, that is a never-ending process.
And yes, I have read Gabor Mate, fully aware of the mental state influencing the physical and the importance of actual work on mental hygiene. Yet, I am not sure that many people feel that mental health is one of the root causes of physical consequences.
I take a firm stance on the idea that people need to find their way to that conclusion for it to be helpful. And maybe the idea of mental influencing the physical doesn’t resonate with all of us. For example, some people are mad at the world and refuse to understand the root cause of it.
I am not implying here all the economic and political struggles we have been going through since the beginning of humanity. Their anger may help them lead a life of a fighter, capable of always caring for themselves and others. I don’t know. I’m just asking away here.
Do we, as friends, family, and close part of the community, have an obligation to tell others about the importance of mental hygiene? Is that selfish? What if some of us are indeed in control of ourselves, navigating the world around us? I have an aversion to giving unsolicited advice to others if they haven’t asked for it. How can we know what is best for someone if we don’t have the complete picture? However, if we do reach out for advice, that is a different story.
Sharing experiences, however, might be another thing, which is why I want to share experiences. I found myself in the stories of others and often recognize at least a part of their story that can be true for me as well. I don’t know if that is the way to go, but it seems good. I believe we notice specific things for a reason. We notice them. Not someone else for us. We should look into it if we want to learn our lessons.
