Mental Illness Is Not Mental At All

We hear the words “mental health” thrown around like its newest fad. If you don’t suffer from anxiety, OCD, or depression you’re probably in the minority among my fellow millennials. I don’t say this to minimize the crippling and debilitating impacts of mental health illness on the human condition. Anxiety is a serious suffering. Fear threatens to steal our realities until we’re future tripping 20 years down the line playing out every bad scenario that has only a .09% chance of actually happening. 

I do say this, first, to incorporate a bit of humor. There’s a lot in our world that could take us down if we let ourselves sit too long in powerlessness. Sprinkling humor in also brings a hope that says, “You have the rest of your life to figure this out.” It’s true, you do. I do, too. We all do. So, let’s laugh about it for a second. 

I also say this to introduce an unpopular opinion (though maybe becoming more popular): mental illnesses are not mental at all. They’re not illnesses either. 

They’re emotional. They’re wounds. And? There is real healing available. 

What? 

That’s right. What is mental about anxiety? About fear? Of course, there is a HUGE aspect of anxiety that happens inside our minds. It feels like our minds are running on a track attempting to beat the world record of the 500IM - we just don’t know how to stop them. That’s real. However, mental health will only ever identify and treat symptoms, never the root. 

I love psychology, and therapy is becoming increasingly more embraced. These are great vehicles of language, labeling, and identifying, however, it generally stops there, in the mind. It’s like slapping a bandaid on a gapping wound with medication, to-do lists, compartmentalizing, a 5-step process, and an expensive shrink named George. 

The pursuit of mental health is admirable and on occasion necessary, but real healing is a deeper process that steps out of our minds and into our hearts. 

Why? Because our issues aren’t mental - they’re emotional. They’re heart wounds.

The pursuit of mental health is admirable and on occasion necessary, but real healing is a deeper process that steps out of our minds and into our hearts. Our issues aren’t mental - they’re emotional. They’re heart wounds.

Can I get a little vulnerable with you? 

I used to get overwhelming anxiety when taking on new tasks. I would think through every step of the process, prepare my words for insignificant conversations, and run them through my head for hours ahead of time. I wasn’t OCD or suffering from anxiety - I was operating out of a belief system that my existence wasn’t worth anything more than my accomplishments. That created super high stakes situations in which failure meant I am not loved or worthy and success only validated the belief that I am worth as much as my accomplishments.  

I would go into panic mode when anything felt a little out of control. I would scramble to find solutions and do everything on my own. I wasn’t prideful - at some point in my development, I began believing that I wouldn’t be taken care of. My survival technique was learning everything by myself and never admit when I needed help because I didn’t think people wanted to help me. 

I avoided dating and men in general. I would say things like “I’m just working on myself” or “I’m not interested in anyone”, but really I was self protecting by pushing everyone away because masculinity was terrifying to me. It felt unsafe and dangerous. I thought it meant there wasn’t space for my voice, or that I would have to sacrifice my voice in order to please a man. 

I was in a constant state of “happy”. If anyone asked, I was always good. That wasn’t inauthentic, I truly thought I was always good and that things didn’t affect me like they did others. I didn’t actually know what feelings were. I didn’t know feelings are meant to be felt. I actually had to study an emotion wheel to identify basic emotions like anger, sadness, and loneliness. Why? Because at some point I learned “negative emotions” are not to be felt or talked about. I just swept them under the rug of denial and toxic positivity. I didn’t know that I was living numb. 

At some point I learned “negative emotions” are not to be felt or talked about. I just swept them under the rug of denial and toxic positivity. I didn’t know that I was living numb. 

I would use God as an excuse to not do something. I would say, “I’m waiting on God for direction or guidance.” There are some cases where this is necessary, but I did it because I thought that my life wasn’t my own. I didn’t know that freedom meant taking ownership of my life. Being responsible for the direction of my life felt too out of control. It felt safer to let “God be in control” and not be responsible for the disappointments.

I used to love being with people all the time. I was constantly running from friend group to friend group. The only time I slowed down was to sleep. I drank, did lots of drugs, and gave myself to people who really didn’t care about me. I wasn’t an extrovert (actually I’m really an introvert). I was afraid of emptiness. I was afraid of the feeling of being alone. I had actually abandoned myself time and time again in order gain acceptance of others. I did this to survive an upbringing that wasn’t bad, but that didn’t hold space for the real me or my emotions.

I used to reject help from others. I was always an incredibly adaptable, resilient, and independent person - I prided myself on that. The truth is independence felt safer than intimacy. I actually didn’t know how to be vulnerable because I wasn’t aware of my internal systems. I was terrified of intimacy (into me you see) because I thought if I opened myself to be truly seen, I would be rejected and abandoned. I hurt a few people that really cared for me not because I wanted to, but because anytime I let them in I was gripped by my subconscious fear. No amount of external security, safety or love was enough to satisfy that deep need in me. 

Being responsible for the direction of my life felt too out of control. It felt safer to let “God be in control” and not be responsible for the disappointments.

I say this to expose the fact that wounds from our developmental years have lasting and monumental impacts. If you know any part of my back story all these things would make a lot of sense. Maybe you relate to some. If so, I am so sorry. I see you. I get you. I bet they make a lot of sense if you trace them back to the root. 

After this initial awakening, I realized freedom was attainable. The wounds of the heart (emotional wounds) can be healed. For every trigger there is a need and you can learn how to connect to your heart and receive that need. You can feel powerful inside of massive pain. You can know a day when you don’t struggle with anxiety, self sabotage, withdrawal, abandonment, rejection, independence, codependence, alcoholism, etc. I can personally attest to this.  

Every action of ours is more emotional than logical, though both are important. If you train a FBI agent to override emotions every single day so as to get the job done, but then show him a video of his wife at gunpoint… guess what will take over? Emotion. The difference between mental health issues and emotional wounds starts with recognizing we are emotional creatures.


 
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Guest Writer: Carly Caprio

Carly found a path to true transformation and emotional healing after drowning in unhealthy pain for most of her life. She’s now passionate to see others walk in the same freedom. She also enjoys extreme mountain climbing and skiing. One of her life dreams is to bike from Canada to the tip of South America.