I’ve just put the phone down from a conversation that’s left me feeling, well, a bit lighter. And that doesn’t happen often.
This man, someone who’s been through the absolute wringer with his own mental health, worse than mine in some ways, similar in others, completely different in others still, said something that I needed to hear. Actually, he said several things I needed to hear.
The thing about him is he never compares his struggles to anyone else’s. He doesn’t play the “who’s got it worse” game. He just gets on with it. And in a few words today, he bloody lifted me in a way I didn’t expect.
I told him, like I’ve told a handful of people I trust, that some days I wake up and I wish I hadn’t. And you know what he said? “And that’s fine.”
Just that. No fixing. No “but you’ve got so much to live for” speech. No platitudes. Just acceptance.
He’s right, of course. “Your story is your story,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what anybody else says. It doesn’t matter what anybody else’s opinion is.”
And there it is. The thing I’ve spent my entire life wrestling with.
A Lifetime of Worrying About What Others Think
My life has been full of dread, full of fear, and full of paranoia about what other people will think. Since childhood, I’ve lived in fear of one kind or another: fear, shame, embarrassment. And every single day it piles up. It doesn’t bloody go away like some people think it miraculously does.
People who don’t experience this assume time heals all wounds, that you just “get over it” eventually. They think one day you wake up and the fear has evaporated like morning mist. Bollocks to that.
It accumulates. Layer upon layer. Every awkward moment, every perceived failure, every time you said the wrong thing or didn’t say anything at all when you should have. It all sits there, ready to remind you at 3am that you’re fundamentally inadequate.
But this wonderful man accepts that reality. He doesn’t try to talk me out of it. He doesn’t suggest I’m being dramatic or wallowing. He just accepts it as fact.
The One Thing I Ask
And that acceptance, that’s the one thing I ask of people:
Don’t try to understand my life. You can’t, really, because you’re not living it.
Don’t try to understand my brain. Even I don’t understand the bloody thing most days.
But please, if you’re going to be my friend, just accept me as I am.
That’s it. That’s the entire request.
Not to fix me. Not to offer solutions. Not to tell me about someone you know who “had depression and now they’re fine.” Just accept that this is how it is for me. Some days are shit. Some days are less shit. And occasionally, very occasionally, some days are actually alright.
Your Life, Your Rules
My friend today put it more bluntly than I ever could. “Fuck what anybody else thinks. Fuck anybody else’s opinion. This is your life. This is your story. You live it in the way that works for you.”
So if you wake up today feeling like absolute shit, go with it. That’s the road you’re on today. Accept it. Don’t fight it. Don’t add to the misery by beating yourself up for feeling miserable in the first place.
If you wake up tomorrow feeling fantastic, brilliant, go with that too. That’s your day tomorrow.
The point is, it’s your day. Your life. Your story.
Not theirs.
This man is a wonderful human being. And he accepts. To me, that’s the thing I wish for from everybody about everybody.
Just acceptance. Not understanding, not agreement, not fixing. Just acceptance.
Is that really too much to ask?
Questions about Acceptance
Why is acceptance more important than understanding?
Understanding requires living someone else’s experience, which is impossible. Acceptance simply means acknowledging someone’s reality without trying to fix, change, or judge it. It’s a more honest and achievable form of support.
How do you stop worrying about what others think?
You probably don’t stop completely. But you can recognise that other people’s opinions are just that, opinions. Your life is yours to live, and the only person who truly needs to accept your choices is you.
What should I do if I wake up feeling terrible?
Accept it as where you are today. Don’t compound the misery by beating yourself up for feeling that way. Some days are just hard, and that’s alright. Tomorrow might be different.
Is it okay to have bad mental health days?
Absolutely. Mental health isn’t linear, and difficult days don’t represent failure. They’re just part of the reality of living with mental health struggles. Acceptance of this fact is often more helpful than fighting it.
How can I be a better friend to someone with mental health issues?
Stop trying to fix them or fully understand their experience. Just accept them as they are. Listen without offering solutions. Be present without judgment. That’s often more valuable than any advice.
A quick note: This is part of my ongoing series of posts about mental health, acceptance, and just getting through the day. If you’re struggling, I see you. And if you’re reading this and relating to any of it, you’re not alone in feeling this way.