More Than Enough
“We want every person out there to know that if all you did was wake up today, that’s more than enough. No matter what, you are inherently worthy of more than enough life, love and healing. Showing up, just as you are, for yourself and the people around you is more than enough.”
-National Alliance on Mental Illness
Published with permission from and the blessing of my daughter.
It’s 1:00 a.m. and my alarm startles me. Not because I am sleeping, but because it’s already been an hour since I was last up and I don’t know where the time went. I get out of bed, open my bedroom door, step on that creaky spot that always surprises me, take 10 steps to the door of my 14-year-old's room, and open it with anticipation. She is sleeping. Her skin is pale, but her face is plump. I touch her forehead. It’s slightly cold but close enough to normal body temperature. I watch for what feels like a minute but is likely only seconds to see she is breathing. I finally breathe. She is alive.
While these nights are currently behind us, they are among the worst nights of my life. Nights I checked on my daughter every hour from the time she fell asleep until the time she woke up. Nights she went to bed so depressed I was scared she might take her own life. Nights she went to bed on some kind of substance I feared would take her precious life in her sleep like those horrible stories I’ve seen on social media.
My daughter is a good human. She has a smile that lights up a room. She can make conversation better than most adults. She loves playing and connecting with little kids. She’s a stunning dancer. She’s a strong soccer player. She’s a fun and descriptive writer. She has had better fashion sense than the rest of us since she was two years old. She loves New York City.
My daughter is also affected by mental illness. Her story of living with mental illness is hers to share if or when she is ready. My story is being a mother to an incredible young woman navigating a world designed for neurotypical humans. A mother who has no idea what I am doing each day, but will never stop trying to get it right. A mother who loves and means well, and still gets it wrong.
Understanding Mental Health
How many times have we read an article or post that started with “May is Mental Health Awareness month” over the last 31 days? I’ve seen it countless times and I’m still not sure what it means. I’m not sure we, as a society, know what it means. I have seen articles that talk about self care, prioritizing our own mental health, supporting our employees to maintain their mental health, and other flavors of this same message. It’s as if we believe our mental health is entirely within our control. My experience watching mental illness impact my loved one’s life is that it is far beyond her control. There is no amount of self care or medication that will make her brain function the way we’ve been taught to believe is “normal.” (I am also not convinced that is our goal.)
As a lifetime learner, I have leaned into this awareness month. I am reading the Mental Health Awareness articles, both personal and agency perspectives. What most closely aligns with my heart is the National Alliance on Mental Illness’s perspective on Mental Health Awareness month through their More Than Enough campaign:
We want every person out there to know that if all you did was wake up today, that’s more than enough. No matter what, you are inherently worthy of more than enough life, love and healing. Showing up, just as you are, for yourself and the people around you is more than enough.
Reading this, I imagine what my daughter can do if the world around her constantly told her she is enough instead of trying to make her fit into a box that will never be designed for her. On the days she can’t get out of bed because her mental illness has visibly taken over, she is enough. On the days she hides in a public restroom because the world around her is too much and no other place feels safe, she is enough. On the days she forgets her medication and has a panic attack in the middle of class, she is enough.
Reading this, I realize how many times I could have told her she is enough instead of criticizing her, yelling at her, or punishing her. Don’t get me wrong, kids need boundaries and consequences for sure. And I am damn good at issuing both. If I am honest, however, I am often defining those boundaries and serving up those consequences through the lens of a kid who is mentally healthy, because I have the privilege of mental health and it takes effort to place myself in the mind of mental illness.
The privilege of mental wellness
Like any privilege, once we realize we have it, we have a duty, responsibility, and obligation to use it for good. It wasn’t until recently that I realized my own mental wellness and strength, and that I understood it as a privilege. So far in 40 years, I’ve pushed through all the things and come out stronger. I thought I was brave and courageous, and maybe I am, but I also recognize now that mental strength is a gift. For my daughter, she has gifts and privilege that make life easier for her, but mental wellness is not one. She cannot push through emotionally challenging circumstances without severe consequences. She cannot overcome overwhelm, grief, trauma, anxiety, or depression without space, tools, and proper support.
Over the last two years, I could not understand why God paired me with this precious human. I have some decent mom skills and I am generally an empathetic person, but empathy only comes when we can truly feel what others feel. Without that shared experience, we can only sympathize, and my sweet daughter needs more than sympathy. She needs a mom who has felt what she feels, experienced life the way she experiences it, and can guide her on this journey because she has lived it. I have felt deficient and lacking in my ability to be her mom, and frustrated and lost in my sense of helplessness.
And yet, here I am. Standing on a broken foundation of humanness, faults, and inadequacies, and God stands firmly on His divine master plan that appointed me to serve as mother to this girl.
As all good stories do, this one is slowly unfolding for me. I can’t see the full picture, but if "faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase" (Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.), I am damn well getting a lesson in faithfulness. I can’t solve all the problems, but the journalist in me can ask the hard questions. I can’t get it right every time, but my privilege of mental strength allows me to never give up. Here are a few foundational truths that keep me grounded and focused through this journey.
Love her well
In my lifelong effort to try to get things right, I read all the parenting books and try to follow all the steps. It serves me well to have knowledge and perspective from books and blogs, but sometimes I forget the most crucial and foundational truth of parenting - love. My first job is to love my kids more than anyone else ever will. To demonstrate unconditional love so they know they are enough and worthy of love just as they are - no strings or conditions attached. Loving my daughter with a mental illness looks different than loving my neurotypical daughter. At my worst, I focus too much on the logistics of being a mother, I dig my heels in a little too deep, and I become robotic. At my best, I recognize that loving her requires me to understand what she needs to feel love, and then doing that over and over again to ensure she trusts my love will always be there no matter how badly she messes up.
Seek to Understand
I must show up each day as a patient student of mental health and of my daughter. I have much to learn, and she is not an open book. Understanding her and her mind is a lifelong journey, not a destination at which I am striving to arrive. As someone who likes to have answers and pathways, this is challenging for me. At my worst, I get frustrated and stop being curious, I spend more time lecturing than listening, and I focus on a future that is far too out of sight for her. At my best, I am her ally, I am focused on today, and I release all expectations and control. When I consistently show up at my best for her, she begins to trust and open up, and it is beautiful (fleeting, but beautiful).
Always Advocate
Advocating and enabling may be close cousins, but they are very different. I am challenged with codependency and enabling, and I have been incredibly cautious and intentional not to bring those weaknesses into my relationship with my daughter. I had a moment in the last year when I identified many past pains and heartache in my life that have prepared me for this journey with her. I felt a sweet reckoning and peace inside that swept away years of sadness and hurt I had been holding onto, because they finally made sense. I certainly know how to fight (emotionally speaking, of course) and this girl needs an advocate who will relentlessly fight on her behalf. Towing the line of advocating and enabling is a daily struggle and I still get it wrong and have to course-correct. At my worst, I fail to set healthy boundaries, I allow her to manipulate me, I protect her too much, and I don’t let her fail. At my best, I have advocated to build a medical team around her she can trust, a community of educators and school administrators who care, and loving adults who are willing to see the good in her even when she makes it really hard.
My challenge for us in recognition of Mental Health Awareness month is simple: try to see every person in our lives as more than enough. Even more importantly, start with the person in the mirror and make sure you can confidently tell that face they are more than enough - and mean it.
