Coping through COVID19: Mental Health in a Time of Separated Support Systems
We are about to start the sixth week of working from home. For the majority of it, I have kept in good spirits. I feel motivated to work, I have a supportive People Manager and fantastic co-workers. Some days feel almost normal enough to convince me that I’m just working from home during a regular day-at-the-office kind of day.
As someone who lives with anxiety and depression, when the lows hit, they hit hard.
I’ve broken into episodes of gasping sobs four times now. One of the biggest indicators of my mental health state is the length of time since my last shower and how much motivation I need to even get to the point of actively planning to shower.
My parents came to do a physical distance visit on Easter Monday. They stood outside my 17 month old’s favourite window sill, and we talked via our cell phones. Before COVID, the longest I went without seeing my parents was three weeks; in the month of February, my mom spent nearly two weeks with us to help with my transition back to work after my parental leave ended. I am heartbroken that I couldn’t hug them. (Even while typing this, I needed multiple breaks to collect myself).
I feel like I am trying to survive in a time when anxiety and depression can thrive without some of my strongest support systems.
It didn’t surprise me when a few nights ago, I felt the anxiety and depression rocks settle into my bones. This is the usual signal that my body gives when a rough patch is coming. It feels like the weight of my bones have tripled, while my heartbeat speed doubles. By the morning, my ability to function was depleted to below 30%.
Like many of us who live with mental illnesses, the dread that comes with a “flare up” or “episode” (as I like to refer to mine) does nothing to mitigate. For myself, guilt and defeat come hand in hand with dread. I get mad at myself that I’m not able to run at top speed and I double down on trying to do it all. This isn’t a once-in-a-blue-moon headache, this isn’t a bruised knee. It’s been over a decade and I’m still learning to not treat this as something I can power through.
I am still learning that it is okay to let people know that I’m struggling.
I am still learning that it is okay to be gentle with myself.
I am still learning to treat this like the illness it is.
With that said, I am one of the lucky ones. I have tried to be honest and open about my mental health with my People Manager for a long time now; in many ways, she is able to anticipate when I need some extra guidance to stop a spiral or permission to be gentle with myself. I have access to healthcare professionals who share and guide me through these flare ups virtually.
And that’s what I did. I told my People Manager that I needed a mental health day. She spent the rest of that week checking in and making sure I knew — and didn’t feel guilty for — taking as much time as I needed.
If you are struggling, you are not alone.
If you know someone who is struggling, you are not alone.
We are living and trying to work through an incredibly difficult and ever-changing situation. Traditional coping strategies have been thrown out the window. For many of us, we’re starting from zero in trying to figure out where to go for support. Rest assured, there are fantastic programs available. If you’re not sure where to start, the Mental Health Commission of Canada has compiled an incredible list of resources.
And if you want to talk to a peer who’s not always doing great and still needs extra support, my DMs are open.
We’re all in this together.
