How are you doing?
It’s a question we ask others nearly every day of our life. But do we ever truly mean it?
If the person you asked suddenly started honestly telling you how they are feeling, would you stick around and listen or would you politely try to excuse yourself from the conversation?
Since I was diagnosed with cancer, this question has taken on a new meaning in my life. Now, I’m no longer afraid to admit how I really feel when someone asks. Cancer gives me the opportunity to be honest, no matter how uncomfortable the situation or the truth might be. My main focus is surviving. The rest is just minor details.
But I know not everyone has the luxury of telling those around them how they are truly feeling without fear of judgment or abandonment. You see, when someone used to ask me how I was doing, I would usually say “fine.” I’d politely ask how they were doing and then go on my way. I’d never admitted how much I was struggling. How plain exhausted I was. How lonely I was. How scared. How I had just sat in my car for 30 minutes wracked with anxiety trying to get up enough courage to walk through the door. How I had needed a pep talk from my husband that day just to get up and go to work. No. It was easier to say, “I’m fine” and continue on my way.
It was easier to not let people in too close. Since I was diagnosed bipolar at age 15, I built walls around myself. I found it was easier to isolate myself than risk embarrassing myself or my family by some of my wild or atypical outgoing behavior.
Maintaining relationships is one of the hardest parts of being bipolar. Finding people who you can trust and depend on to help you through your low points, as well as the highs, is critical to your well-being.
Recently, after we started telling friends and family about my cancer, I was struck by the outpouring of love and support for not only me but my entire family. People offered to cook meals, watch my children and take me to doctor appointments. I’ve never felt more loved and supported in my entire life.
Then I thought about all those that have mental disorders, IBS, autism and other invisible illnesses. I thought about how so many of our friends, family members are silently suffering on the inside but may look perfectly fine on the outside. I thought about how difficult it is to open up to others when you are suffering. How difficult it is to ask for help. How difficult it is to reach out.
But, how great would it be, when you dared to open up and tell your family and friends about your disorder, if their first response was, “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. How can I help?” How great would it be if your family and friends offered to cook you meals and take care of you or your children when you were feeling tired and overwhelmed?
You too would see that you matter. That you are loved. That this will pass. You are supported and will get through this. That alone could save a life.
Too often people with mental disorders, whether it’s anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder or others, feel isolated and alone in their suffering. They feel like a burden to their friends and family who can’t seem to understand why they just can’t get over it and move on.
So if your family member or friend has depression, anxiety or another mental disorder, I encourage you to reach out and ask that person regularly, how they are doing and mean it. LISTEN. Just sit there and listen to them. Try to listen without judgment. And at times when they are feeling low, a hug means more than any words you could possibly say. At the end of the day, we all just want to be listened to and to feel we are not alone.
You have the power to make someone’s day better just by genuinely asking how they are doing and taking the time to truly listen to what they have to say.