It's Okay to Not Be Okay

Years ago, when I was going through a divorce, my Mom said to me, "You say you're okay, and you seem okay, but it's hard to know if you actually are because you play everything so close to the vest." She wasn't wrong. While I looked and acted okay, I was most definitely not, but it took me a long time to realize I wasn't because I'm so good at hiding my distress, even from myself.

I've spent my entire life fighting so hard against ever having a victim mentality that, in a lot of ways, I victimized myself by not allowing my true feelings to peek through — not just in front of anyone else, but in front of myself.

It's a pattern that repeats in my life over and over again, which also tells me it's a life lesson I'm here to learn. We teach what we need to learn, after all. And while my brain often knows and understands something, it usually takes my body and ego a while to catch up. 

Being "fine" even when I'm not has had a hefty cost throughout my life, mostly on my physical and mental health, but in other ways, too. 

Everything has energy, including our thoughts, beliefs, and feelings. So when we suppress these things for the sake of being "fine," we're creating sticky, substantive energy that can put a real spanner in the works. And when we have that sticky, unexpressed, and unexplored emotional energy, it can lead to spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical challenges that either leave us unwell or force us to address it before it harms our bodies, minds, and spirits.

Toxic spirituality and spiritual bypass occur when we take those times we aren't fine and pretend to ourselves and others that we are. I'm pretty good at it and have been all my life, although I'm aware it's a pattern. So when I do it (and we all do), it takes me a little time to recognize it's happening and allow myself to step into the experience and emotions of not being okay. Fortunately for me, the time it takes to recognize and adjust has shortened over the years (it used to take me YEARS to process; now I'm down to days, weeks, or months, so I'm calling it a win). 

So how do we recognize when we've stepped into spiritual bypass mode and aren't allowing energy to pass through us? We all have our own signals, but for me, it often shows up in my physical health.

For instance, all those years ago, when I was "fine" during my divorce, it showed up in a huge health crisis that took me the better part of 35 years to work my way out of. 

Given that, it's surprising (but not really) that when I was laid off last month from my job of 16 years working as an editor for a publishing company (thanks, AI), I was, of course, fine. Perrrrrrrrfectly fine, I tell you. I told everyone I was fine. I immediately launched myself into new ventures. I took the time to plan new projects, start learning new things, begin freelance writing for new clients, build a business, add several thousand steps per day to my walks, and add several hours per week to my gym workouts. Because I. Was. Fine.

And let's face it. The world is stressful right now, too. All of it. The energy of it feels stressful. We're living in turbulent times with uncomfortable, tumultuous energy swirling about that we can't help but absorb. People are distressed, angry, and afraid because so much dark energy that all of humanity has ignored or suppressed over the years is coming to light, and everything looks and feels chaotic.

As an empath, I swim my way through all of that, feeling everyone else's feels alongside my own. It's bumpy out there. So even in the absence of my own personal turbulence, I'd be experiencing everyone else's.

Here's how fine I actually was. Monday, I did my regular thing. I went to the gym and had a great 2.5-hour workout (it was HIIT day and leg day, so "great" might be an exaggeration, but it felt like a strong workout). Then I came home, worked for a few hours, studied for a few more hours, applied for a few jobs, and went for a 14K-step walk. I woke up Tuesday morning with a horrible headache and my blood pressure pounding in my ears. Took my BP, and it was in stage 2 hypertension territory, which is unusual for me, since historically I've had very low blood pressure.

My first thought was overtraining syndrome, so I skipped Tuesday's and Wednesday's workout and walk in hopes of giving my body time to reset. At this point, I saw it merely as a physical problem that I could resolve by skipping a few workouts and relaxing for a day or two. Silly me.

On Thursday, I went to the gym and did a very light workout (an hour on the treadmill, keeping my heart rate under 105 BPM and a few bodyweight exercises aimed at preserving muscle mass). Friday, I woke up with my head pounding, so I took my BP and hauled myself to our local urgent care, because it was a little alarming. I realized I was going to need more help than skipping a few workouts.

At urgent care, I told the ARNP all the things I thought were contributing to my high BP, and she jokingly said, "Yeah - nothing to be stressed about there." Then it hit me. I have been proceeding in "I'm fine" mode. I've been throwing myself into all the things so I didn't have to deal with the energy of grieving over a lost job, worrying about my future, worrying about the future of the planet, and more. Friday, I sat with that for the first time because not sitting with those feelings and allowing them to pass through me was harming me in a very real and noticeable way.

Two things can be true at the same time. I am grieving my job loss, and the world is in absolute chaos right now, but I also know that sometimes chaos is necessary to bring about shifts both personally and for all of humanity. I haven't felt happy or fulfilled in my job for a few years, but there's comfort in staying with something that's steady and stable, no matter how unhappy it makes you. Change — especially change that feels forced — is frightening, but the opportunity for growth and moving into something that better suits my life's path is exciting and fulfilling. I am equally afraid and optimistic. I'm grieving the loss of something that I once loved, and I'm excited for the opportunity to create something new.

Those contradictions in themselves can be uncomfortable, and it's so easy to lean into what I see as the positive side of them without allowing myself to process what I feel are the negative aspects. It's why spiritual bypass is so darn easy. Because it lets us lean into the I'm fine, it's fine, everything's fine mentality that feels protective while we're doing it.

But the energy of what we suppress always manifests — sometimes sooner, and sometimes later. 

I say this all the time, and it's just as true now as it has always been. I'm a beautiful mess. Aren't we all?

While I'm grateful for the opportunities all of this (gestures around wildly) is opening up, I'm also a human being who is deeply struggling with the chaotic energy, fear, anger, grief, and confusion of it all. The world, which I believed to be one way, is showing itself to be something equally more beautiful and uglier than I could ever have imagined. And my life, which I believed was on one path, has shifted to a different path I knew deep down I needed to take, but was delaying embarking on because I was mostly comfortable where I was. 

So I am acknowledging the discomfort and sitting with it while still trusting myself and the universe that all of it is going where it needs to. Change must happen. In my life. In your lives. In the world. In humanity. And ultimately, the emergence of new energy is uncomfortable. But we have to go through it. We have to acknowledge it. Sit with it. Breathe through it. And believe in the possibilities that lie beyond the chaos. 

Energy shifts constantly. But we have to sit with the shadows while maintaining an awareness of and trust in the light. As souls, we are safe. As humans, we don't feel safe. Two things can be true at the same time, and we need to honor and allow one while still holding space for the other.

This is spiritual activism. Allowing ourselves to process chaotic energy while keeping the light alive inside. Processing what we perceive as negative while still taking actions that sit right in our souls to continue to move forward through the chaos and into the light. To find the light, we have to make our way through the darkness. I deserve it. You deserve it. And while this may not always feel true, humanity deserves it, too. The only way through dark, stuck, chaotic energy is through it. 

It may not seem like it, but we're all in this together. I hold hope that, as we always have, we'll come through the chaos and come out on the other side wiser, stronger, and more compassionate for having gone through it. 

​By the way... my BP was back to being low today.