So much of getting better is admitting that you can’t do everything alone

So much of getting better is admitting that you can’t do everything alone

I’ve always been someone who prides myself on being independent.

I’m self-sufficient, I don’t need anyone, and I can get things done on my own without any help.

A lot of dealing with mental health is stripping that back, admitting I can’t do everything alone, and asking for support.

Woman whose angry eczema itching was so bad she needed sleeping pills swears by £8 cream

It started with going to my GP and coming clean about the mess inside my head.


That was scary for a whole tonne of reasons (what if he didn’t believe me, what if there was nothing wrong and I was just making a big fuss over thoughts everyone has to put up with, what if they put me on pills that made things worse), but it was also terrifying because it felt like an admittance of weakness.



Openly saying that I’m not okay has been difficult.

It’s been me saying: ‘I’ve been dealing with this alone for almost a decade, but I can’t do it anymore.’ It’s been telling everyone that I just can’t keep doing what I’ve been doing.

At times it’s felt like admitting defeat.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

I’ve had to tell people that no, actually, I can’t do ‘that’, whether ‘that’ is taking on extra work, going out, or rushing around to do loads of things in one day.

I’ve had to explain that part of dealing with my mental health is having time alone to rest, recharge, and avoid high stress situations, as well as getting enough sleep, doing self-care, and not taking on too much work (even if I want to).

It’s felt uncomfortable.

I’m so used to stepping up and doing everything people ask that sitting back and saying ‘sorry, no, I can’t’ feels unnatural.

I keep having to battle against the feeling that I’m being lazy, or silly, or uncool.*

*Especially when I have to tell people that I can’t go out because my bedtime is 9.30pm. I’m learning that getting enough sleep has a huge impact on how panicky I feel and how many obsessive thoughts creep in.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

There’s also the sense that I’m being weak.

I’ve had to let go of the illusion that I’m a hard-working machine that can do it all without ever needing a break.

I’ve cried in front of people. I’ve admitted that I’ve just had a panic attack instead of hiding away in the office toilets.

I’ve told people that I need to be left alone for a few hours so I can do some self-care. I’ve asked people I care about to make sure I take my meds.

I’ve asked people to stop talking about boiler explosions and germs on desks because I know that once they’re done I’ll obsess over what they’ve said for hours.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

I’ve been asking for patience and understanding, and it’s made me feel dependent, needy.

But I’m slowly learning that it’s not weak to ask for help – it’s brave.

Opening up about my mental health and admitting weakness was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done.



Every time I’m honest and say I can’t do something alone, it feels horrible. But I do it, because it’s necessary.

Being able to peel back the appearance of taking on too much and being totally fine is being strong, because it’s scary to be vulnerable with people you care about – and doing things that scare you is bravery.

It’s been hard to get my head around it, but it’s true: sometimes strength is admitting weakness.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

It’s okay to not be able to do everything alone.

It’s okay to need time to heal, to ask people for help with the little things, to need to talk to someone.

It’s okay to need people sometimes.

Yes, I can survive alone. I can keep dealing with stuff. But a huge part of getting better is accepting that I’m struggling, that I need support, and that’s it’s okay to ask the people around me to help out.

For a long time, being independent has been a huge part of who I am.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

And for me, that’s meant doing everything alone, telling people I’m fine (so I can prove I’m capable), and taking on too much in an effort to distract people from what’s going on – and to distract myself.

The busier I was and the more silent I stayed about the fact that I was struggling, the more I could pretend that there was nothing wrong.

I’m done with that.


I can be independent and strong. I can be capable. I can do things.

But I can do that while also asking for allowances, letting people in, and asking for help when I need it.

I’m done pretending everything’s okay. Sometimes I need people. I can’t do everything alone.

I can’t fix my depression, anxiety, and obsessive thoughts on my own, and I don’t want to keep pretending they don’t exist.

I’m ready to start letting people in. I’m ready to be vulnerable. I’m ready to admit that I need a little help.

Oi, listen to our new mental health podcast: Oh, hey. If you like reading about mental health stuff, you’ll probably also like listening to it. So rejoice. We’ve launched a snazzy new podcast discussing all things mental health without getting too serious, science-y, or stuffy. It’s called Mentally Yours, it’s great, and you can subscribe here. Let us know what you think by commenting, tweeting us @MentallyYrs, or leaving a review. We are very keen for any and all feedback.* *Especially if it’s nice.

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