I like word pictures. They help me take abstract thoughts and ideas and turn them into practical realizations.
Recently, something I read or heard about mental health filled my mind with a word picture that overwhelmed me with stark awareness. I don’t remember what exactly triggered the image, but I remember how powerful it was. Our society is becoming more open to discussing mental health and the impacts of anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues. Even neurodivergence is garnering more positive discussion these days. But, those who have never personally interacted with neurodivergence or mental health issues still have a hard time grasping what the challenges really look like.
That’s where word pictures can be incredibly helpful. Shall I share mine with you?
Imagine you own a car that looks great and sounds/runs fine once it’s started. But, the simple act of starting it uses up three-quarters of a tank of gas. Every. Single. Time. And, I’ll be honest, I’ve never owned a vehicle that uses that last quarter of a tank of gas as efficiently as the first quarter of a tank. So, you can’t do as much on that last quarter of a tank as you could with the first quarter of a tank were you starting from full.
Some people, especially those living day-in and day-out with depression, anxiety, or other such quiet, nearly invisible challenges are like that car. It takes 75% (if not more) of their supply of will power just to get out of bed. Then, as with a car that has to stay idling all day just so you don’t have to restart it (since you don’t have enough gas to do so), much of what’s left is consumed with trying to figure out where to even begin with the rest of the day.
It’s easy to look at that person and say, “If you would just do _____ or have _____ attitude, it would help you and you’d feel better.” But, there are a lot of ______s to do, and they add up so quickly. And that “easy” attitude adjustment requires so much energy, will power, and discipline. All of those things that should be simple are not. A healthy person can do those things and barely use up an ounce of gas. Not so for someone running on that bottom quarter of a tank. It might cost them a gallon, an incredibly high cost.
Someone in your life operates on that quarter of a tank day in and day out. Everything expected of them is extraordinarily costly. And they’re afraid that tomorrow it will take 80% of their allotment to get started, maybe even 90% by next week. So, they’re hoarding. Protecting.
I wish I could say that there was an easy fix to help them eliminate the start-up consumption, but there’s not. Eventually, some of them can find ways to improve their car’s efficiency or even get a new car. But for now, they’re just doing the best they can, and they’re doing it with the assumption that their struggle is not going to be understood. That they’re just going to be handed “simple” solutions from a society that wants them to pull it together and just be “normal.”
Maybe there is a better option. Maybe instead of feeling like someone who needs to be fixed, they simply need to feel seen and understood. Who knows what that simple act of understanding can accomplish?
Not Quite Ordinary 