I remember when I first started to talk about my mental health online. Like most difficult topics I've shared online, I danced around the rough idea that something was going on before eventually one day just coming out with it. Mental health affects us all in some capacity. We all know someone with some form of mental health issue, even if you don't realise that you do. As a whole, I've found writers to be quite introverted people and putting our feelings down in words rather than speaking them aloud is often the easiest way to get them out of our jumbled up, overactive heads. My fingers trembled as a wrote that tweet, the first time I'd actually written the D word on Twitter. I think I deleted it about an hour later. I was scared. I didn't have a huge following at the time (I mean, I still don't, but you know) but it felt like I was shouting from the rooftops to anyone who would listen. Yet somehow that didn't seen quite as daunting as telling even the people closest to me. You see, if I share something online, nobody is forced to respond to it. Heck, nobody is forced to even read it. I don't make anyone follow me or read my content, I simply put it out there and if people enjoy it enough to follow or read, that's so wonderful but it's their choice. If I initiate a conversation with someone in real life though, there's no going back and that can scary sometimes. If I'm feeling depressed or anxious and I message a friend, I am kind of forcing them to respond. They don't absolutely have to, but I'm putting them in a position whereby they come across as the bad guy if they don't. People have lives and jobs and commitments and relationships and children and dinners to make and washing up to do and Netflix shows to catch up on. If I contact them, they have to take time out of their lives to comfort, talk to or help me and that's a lot to ask no matter how close you are to someone. So often it does feel easier to just write an 140 character ramble of how low I'm feeling, hope someone can relate or even better, feels compelled to respond, but if nobody has within half an hour, I can delete it and move on. Gone without a trace. Maybe from there, I can decide if I want to burden someone in real life with it. Maybe not.
Until not too long ago, I thought that was quite a healthy way of getting my feelings out but I've came to realise recently that although nobody is forced to read my tweets, thousands of people do and whether I want to admit it or not, I do hold some level of responsibility. Thousands of people who may or may not be experiencing something similar to me or maybe worse. I'm so incredibly happy that I'm in a place both with my own mental health and with my albeit small influence online whereby I feel like I have an outlet for feelings that all through my teenage years, I supressed and the very idea of literally any other human being knowing filled me with pure dread. That being said, I am also accountable for what I share and I'm not always aware of who's reading. I actively encourage an open dialogue about mental health and want people to feel safe to share what they want to and I would never want anyone who to feel shame for speaking as openly as they see fit, but for me, whatever this is that I'm doing just now, it's not working and it's not healthy either.
I'm not saying I never want to tweet that I've had a bad day or that things are getting really overwhelming for me or that I feel paralysed with anxiety or numb with depression. I'm not saying that at all. I'm saying that I need to stop with vague and graphic rambles that could trigger people or could cause concern or harm. That's not healthy for anyone. I need to be coherent, try and post it with some type of context and purpose so as not to worry anyone and while I try my best to use trigger warnings, remember that even when discussing about topics that most people would shy away, not everything has to be shared. When I was a teenager, long before the days of social media as it is now, my outlet was writing a journal. Maybe I need to go old school again when it comes to getting my thoughts out of my head, I don't know.
I don't ever want to completely stop talking about mental health altogether. That wouldn't help me and I don't think it would help others or the struggle that anyone who suffers with their mental health will know, the battle to normalise it and remove stigma. My complete silence wouldn't help that. But I'm started to realise that shouting as loud as I can with empty words and rambling thoughts probably won't either and that looking for validation online isn't for me any more. Very rarely do I tweet something about my mental health and don't instantly feel embarrassed as soon as somebody replies that I wasn't able to just keep my mouth shut, regardless of how nice their reply may be and very rarely do I speak to someone close to me in real life and not feel at least a little better and a little clearer about things. I guess mental health is all a learning process, you don't get a manual upon diagnosis and what works for some may not for others. These are just some thoughts I've been having recently. I hope they made some kind of sense. Probably not.