When your mental pain is more than unbearable.
Being in a crisis is terrifying and lonely. These 3 steps may be exactly what you need.
It is my responsibility to state the following:
You have likely already done the sensible thing of attempting to get medical treatment for your extreme physical pain or insufferable symptoms.
No amount of reading can cure a practical problem that requires clinical intervention.
Though, it seems you are here in a psychological crisis and I know that wherever you are in the world, there is crisis help available at this very moment.
It’s closer and more accessible than you think.
At the same time, I know how hard it is to reach out for help. Maybe that’s why you’re here.
I’ve been you, in your exact position.
Making a phone call, sending a message or starting a vulnerable conversation was terrifying.
At least, that’s what it felt like for me at the time. It was the very last thing I wanted to do.
I understand that deep pain that occupies the darkest parts of you, and there is no light that can penetrate it right now. I have felt that pain and how it hijacks every nerve and fibre in the body.
If you are still here and for whatever reason you are drawn to connecting with me, I am here.
Whatever time of day or night it is, you are welcome to reach out and I will respond at the earliest opportunity.
It is completely up to you. The invitation is open.
While you’re waiting…this is what I did when I was in your exact spot.
Acknowledge your emptiness.
When I first experienced a psychological crisis, I did not have a clue what was happening with me. It was new and horrifying. I didn’t recognise who I was, or believe what I was thinking or what I was doing.
I felt completely alone. I felt ashamed. I didn’t want to admit how I was feeling.
I shut it all out and shut others out too. It felt like the best thing for me to do.
Since then, I’ve had many more moments of crisis, and I’ve recognised the pattern.
I remember the first time when I acknowledged I’m in crisis (again), and how clear the pattern was to me; each time there was something deeply lacking in myself or my life. I was feeling this all consuming sensation of pain because I was empty, and the hole was far too big. It felt impossible to fill at the moment. Unfathomable.
I remember I was fed up. It was too hard to keep trying. I was exhausted.
Each time I was in a crisis thereafter, I had a flash of understanding that the way I was feeling was a symptom of feeling like something was missing.
My accountability to acknowledge that was key. The pressure to do something about it wasn’t.
I didn’t have to fill that hole or take care of doing anything. I just needed to notice and admit to myself that I was empty.
I didn’t have to blame anyone or anything. I didn't even need to feel any relief. I just needed to recognise...
...I am empty. I am missing something in my life.
Gift yourself crumbs.
In each crisis, I had already given up, or I was close to. There was nothing left in me so there was no point in trying anything, right?
However, I knew somewhere in me was a desire.
It was calling out.
A really tiny voice to do something nice for me that I wasn’t allowing myself to do.
A harmless tiny thing. A crumb of an action.
I know for me, whenever I’m feeling at my lowest, I don’t feel like I deserve anything nice. However, a crumb doesn’t feel so bad. I can manage a tiny crumb.
I remember asking myself ‘How do I feel?’ and ‘What do I want?’. These are two questions my mentor taught me, and I’m happy to share them with you.
When I’m in the midst of feeling the cruel crushing pain of a crisis, those two questions have been the most powerful, and the easiest to answer.
Oftentimes, because I’ve been crying or having dark thoughts, I’m simply feeling exhausted, hungry or cold.
Then, in response, I know exactly what I want, which is to sleep, eat or put on another layer.
Then I honour that desire. No more dithering. I just do it.
That’s it, and I keep going from there. Answering those two questions, as a pair.
How do I feel? Sad.
What do I want? To watch a show…and then I’d watch a show.
How do I feel? Stiff.
What do I want? To stretch…and I’d stand up to stretch.
How do I feel? Nauseous.
What do I want? To get some fresh air…and I’d go for a walk.
I wasn't filling that giant void in my life. I was just gifting myself a harmless crumb at a time.
This wasn’t the time to put my world to right. I needed to be very gentle with myself.
No responsibilities. No pressure. I got to decide every moment what tiny nice thing I wanted to do, and then did it.
I loved not having to fix everything because I felt so drained, but those crumbs were magic in a time of desperation.
Share your pain.
I totally understand that this might be the very last thing you want to do right now, and if so, I hear you.
I invite you to stay on Step 2. for as long as you wish and if, and only if you are willing, I invite you to come back and finish reading the below. You get to decide what you do.
You've got this.
Whenever I’ve been stuck thinking my heavy thoughts and feeling my heavy feelings, regardless of how much social time I’ve had, my pain inevitably accumulates inside of me.
It hasn’t gone anywhere because I haven’t done anything with it. It’s been inside me this whole time.
It’s been eating me up from the inside out without me noticing and then suddenly I find myself trapped. This is how I find myself in crisis more often than not.
I mentioned before that I tend to shut myself away and try to handle things on my own.
That was before I found safe people to share with.
That isn’t to say handling my pain solo didn’t work at all! Sometimes, indulging in something bigger than a crumb, like a meal out, or a comedy show, or free-writing in my notebook, felt cathartic and like a balm for my wounded soul.
However, for me, it never scratched the itch enough. I always needed more! The only thing that worked for me was real human connection, but safe connection at that.
To me, safe people are those who give me their full attention when I’m speaking, who pass no judgement, and they refrain from giving unsolicited advice. It goes without saying these people are also very empathetic and keep my secrets to themselves.
They really see me where I am, and give me the space and time to share all the festering ugliness that’s accrued inside of me.
Safe people may be hard to find but they are not elusive. To me, my safe people are a handful of friends, my mentors, and some coaches I know.
Now, when I’ve acknowledged my empty feelings and given myself crumbs (or something bigger) to pass the time, I go to a safe person to share my pain.
I’m not asking them to fix me or cheer me up. I’m not expecting anything from them because in many ways I don’t even know what I want the outcome to be.
I just know that sharing my pain with a safe person generally makes things better afterwards. I can’t even put a finger on what it is exactly, but for me, this is the final step of the staircase out of my crisis.
I send texts, voice notes, or try calling a friend, seeing if they’re available to speak. For me, I find talking in a live conversation the best, whether that’s over the phone or in person.
If no one is available to respond immediately, I simply share messages saying how I’m feeling and thinking, because it gets the process started.
It can feel very vulnerable reaching out to a safe person but I know for me, after I found my safe people, that first text, phone call or in-person conversation became easier and easier with time, no matter how much deep pain I was in.
I am standing for you finding your safe people to share your pain with.
The happy outcome?
I write this as I’m in, or just coming out of a crisis, so know that you are most certainly not alone.
Your ill health, your thoughts and your feelings are real and valid, no matter whether they’re ‘good’ or ‘bad’. I am right here with you in your pain.
With the 3 steps above I can get myself out of a crisis much quicker now. I’d love to say I don’t have crises anymore but I want to be respectful to both me and you and be completely honest.
I have crises because sometimes I lose track and suddenly discover that things have gone awfully wrong and I completely fall apart. Other times I'm caught off guard with a quick succession of surprising and stressful events, and then I'm on the floor.
I’m a human and I’ve had a painful past. Big ugly feelings and thoughts still exist for me but they certainly don’t plague me, because I do the steps above to get me back to a good place again.
You can get yourself back to a good place again too. I just know it!
