It’s inevitable. Because I write openly about my feelings and life with depression, mental illness, and autism, it is inevitable that someone--or a few someones--will feel bad for me and try to give me advice about what I should do.
But what they don’t understand is that I’m not writing about these things as a cry for help. I don’t need to be “fixed.” No one needs to save me. I’m writing to help someone else see that they’re not alone. I’m writing because it’s something I need to do.
Because I believe honesty about our emotions matters.
We all struggle in life. With something. Some of us struggle more than others. We don’t need to be ashamed of that. I’m not ashamed.
I have been through so much shit in my life, but I understand to a good extent how it’s impacted me and why I struggle as I do. I’m no stranger to self-reflection.
Yet I’m proud of the mother I am despite my struggles and challenges.
I made it without unsolicited advice on how to be more normal or how to be a better mother.
The thing is, I know people mean well when they offer unsolicited advice. I get that. I don’t want to devalue their own feelings or intentions but, honestly? You can’t fix people with depression and mental illness. You can’t fix people with autism. You can’t tell them they need to be normal and expect good results.
That’s not health.
For one thing, if your unsolicited advice suggests there’s something wrong with the person — go home. I don’t mean that unkindly.
Just…
Come back when you know how to sit with a person living with depression. How to just be there. How to accept them without waiting for them to change.
When it comes to the really deep mental and emotional struggles, you’ve got to earn the right to offer your advice. It helps if you’ve been there. But if you’ve been there, then you should know better than to try to quick-fix the person.