One Set of Footprints

I just saw a post where a friend of mine from my university days just said that one of her daughter's junior high teachers had just committed suicide. I then received news of another suicide that is hitting too close to home. I fear that these tragedies are only the beginning for what could well be a tidal wave of mental health issues in the weeks and months to come. I am concerned that the mental toll is going to show up in more suicides, increased addictions, abuse of self and others, and more. However, this news hit me harder than one might have expected. 

You see, yesterday I broke.

I have been struggling with trying to juggle my responsibilities with school, my students, church, and my family. Things have been piling up and yesterday something happened that pushed me past a breaking point. I went for a long walk (after my wife suggested I do so) and as I tried to get ready for a Zoom meeting after, I just broke. 

It felt like a tiny something snapped in my brain.

I don't know how long I was alone in my basement before I had the sense of mind to text Heather. She came running downstairs. What happened was a bit of a haze to me. I just know my wife was there, offering words of support and comfort while I sobbed. After several minutes like this my beloved wife helped take care of a few things that were needing some immediate attention, and then I went upstairs, turned off my phone, and crawled into bed. I believe I slept a little, but honestly I don't know. I was quiet at dinner and left the girls in Kevin's care for a few moments while Heather and I went to get a few groceries. We talked about what happened. I got a much needed phone call from my Bishop, and we talked. All yesterday I felt like there was pressure in my head and I cannot remember the last time I felt this exhausted. I went to sleep.

I have lost family members and friends. I have lost employment. I have attended sad funerals of cherished colleagues and beloved students. I have been rejected and humiliated by others. I have gone through a divorce. Yesterday was the first time that I felt broken. 

I bring this up because I think it is important that people understand how delicate our mental health can be at these times of crisis. On the surface I should be fine. My wife and I are still fully employed with no loss of income, my family is with me and we are healthy, there is food in our fridge and pantry and power to our home, nobody I know has died from COVID-19, and I have a close relationship with my Heavenly Father. I can go for walks and I have enough at home to keep me entertained. And yet since this pandemic started I have had days where I feel like my sanity is hanging by a frayed thread. I have established a network of friends and family members who I reach out to and who reach out to me, but I still had a mental collapse where I was pushed to the limit and beyond. While many people could look at me and say "Bryan Andrews is fine. He is strong. He can weather this storm", know that it is not entirely true. I am still human. My struggles are still real. I feel the pressures of being on the ground doing what I can to see those I have been tasked with through this. And while on the surface I may appear to be doing fine, know that underneath I am not. 

At least, not always.

I struggle. I struggle with depression. I struggle with anxiety. I struggle with feelings of inadequacy. I struggle with loneliness. Most days the struggle is manageable to easy. Most days I can be the strength for others to lean on. Most days I can be there for others. And some days, like yesterday, I can't. Some days the struggle is too much. Some days I get knocked to the ground, and it is hard to get back up.

I like to be the one who can reach out their hand to others who are struggling, but I have learned through difficult experience to extend my own hand so others can help lift me. I am learning to find the strength is asking for help, but I am also glad for those who have made the deliberate decision to be there for me. Of that, I am grateful. I am grateful for those who choose to check in with me rather than just assume everything is OK. 

One of my favorite poems is titled "Footprints". I have included it at the end. I love it because it has taught me to be grateful for the times in my life where I can only see one set of footprints in the sand that is my life's journey. I have dear friends, cherished colleagues, thoughtful neighbors, supportive students, and the most loving family I could ask for, but at the end of the day, there is one set of footprints that have always been with me. And it is that set of footprints that ultimately helps me when I feel broken.

So please be kinder to others. As we navigate this storm in life, be merciful and patient with others. You do not know the sorrow and pain that they are carrying. You cannot perceive every wound that others cover. Err on the side of compassion and hope instead of skepticism and conspiracy. Be ready to assist when called upon, and at the same time I hope you discover the strength that is to be found is asking for help. Lift others, but also allow yourself to be lifted. This is going to be needed as much as a vaccine or a treatment, and this is something that you can do.