I’m Coping, So Why Don’t I Feel Okay?

You get up.

You go to work.

You answer the messages, deal with the things that need dealing with, make dinner, remember the appointments and keep everything moving.

If someone asks how you are, you probably say:

"I'm fine."

And, technically, perhaps you are.

You're coping.

So why don't you actually feel okay?

Coping and being okay aren't necessarily the same thing

We often judge how we're doing by whether we're still functioning.

If we're getting out of bed, going to work, looking after our families and managing our responsibilities, we assume we must be okay.

But human beings can be remarkably good at carrying on.

You can function while feeling exhausted.

You can smile while feeling overwhelmed.

You can support everyone else while quietly struggling yourself.

You can appear completely capable to the people around you while privately wondering why everything seems to require so much effort.

Sometimes we become so focused on getting through the day that we don't notice how much it's costing us.

"But nothing is actually wrong"

This can be one of the most confusing parts.

Perhaps there hasn't been a major crisis.

There's no single event you can point to and say, "That's why I feel like this."

Life might even look pretty good from the outside.

And that can make it difficult to give yourself permission to acknowledge that you're struggling.

You might tell yourself:

"Other people have much bigger problems."

"I've got nothing to complain about."

"I just need to pull myself together."

"I'm probably just tired."

But how you feel doesn't need to be justified by having something dramatic happen.

Sometimes it's not one big thing.

It's a hundred smaller things that have gradually accumulated.

When the load builds quietly

Think about everything your mind might be carrying.

Work.

Money.

Relationships.

Family responsibilities.

Deadlines.

Health worries.

Decisions.

Other people's problems.

Things you haven't dealt with yet.

Things you're trying not to think about.

Things you can't change.

And the constant mental list of things you still need to do.

Individually, each one might feel manageable.

Together, they can become exhausting.

The difficulty is that we don't always notice the load increasing.

We simply adjust.

We try a little harder.

Sleep a little less.

Become a little more irritable.

Stop doing some of the things we enjoy because we don't have the energy.

Tell ourselves we'll slow down when things settle.

And carry on.

Your warning signs might not look dramatic

Struggling emotionally doesn't always mean being unable to get out of bed or bursting into tears.

Sometimes the signs are much quieter.

You might notice you're becoming irritated by things that wouldn't normally bother you.

Perhaps you're worrying more or replaying conversations in your head.

You might be struggling to switch off at night, even though you're exhausted.

You may find yourself withdrawing from people or turning down invitations because you simply can't face them.

Things you used to enjoy might feel like effort.

Perhaps you're losing concentration, procrastinating more or finding simple decisions strangely difficult.

Or maybe you just have a persistent feeling that you're not quite yourself.

None of these things necessarily means something is seriously wrong.

But they can be your mind and body telling you that something needs attention.

"I'll deal with it when things calm down"

This is a very easy promise to make.

After this deadline.

After the weekend.

After Christmas.

After this project finishes.

When work gets quieter.

When everyone else is sorted.

Then you'll look after yourself.

The problem is that life doesn't always provide the convenient quiet period we're waiting for.

Something else comes along.

And because you're still managing, there's no obvious reason to stop.

So you continue operating on increasingly depleted batteries.

Until coping starts to become survival.

Sometimes being capable can work against you

People who are used to being dependable can find it particularly difficult to recognise when they need support.

If you're normally the person who sorts things out, takes responsibility or looks after everyone else, saying "Actually, I'm struggling" can feel uncomfortable.

Perhaps even selfish.

People around you may not notice either.

They see the version of you who continues to turn up and get things done.

They don't necessarily see the overthinking at two in the morning.

The exhaustion when you close the front door.

The Sunday evening dread.

The effort it takes to appear fine.

When you've spent a long time being the person who copes, it can become part of how you see yourself.

Which can make admitting that things feel difficult surprisingly hard.

What do I actually need?

Sometimes we become so accustomed to asking what everyone else needs that we stop asking the same question of ourselves.

So perhaps it's worth considering:

What do I need at the moment?

Not what should you need.

Not what somebody else thinks you need.

What do you need?

More rest?

Less pressure?

Some boundaries?

Help with something you've been carrying alone?

A conversation you've been avoiding?

Time to work out why you're feeling the way you do?

You don't necessarily need to know the answer straight away.

Sometimes simply asking the question is a beginning.

You don't have to wait until you can't cope

There's a common idea that counselling is something you turn to when everything has fallen apart.

It doesn't have to be.

You don't need to be in crisis.

You don't need a diagnosis.

And you don't need to arrive knowing exactly what's wrong or what you want to talk about.

Sometimes people come to counselling because they're tired of feeling tired.

Because they're worrying more than they used to.

Because they've lost confidence.

Because they're overwhelmed.

Because something has changed and they don't quite know how they feel about it.

Or simply because:

"I'm coping, but I don't feel like myself anymore."

That's enough of a place to start.

Giving yourself somewhere to put things down

Counselling isn't about somebody telling you how to live your life.

It can provide something that can be surprisingly difficult to find in everyday life: a space that's yours.

A place where you don't need to look after anybody else.

You don't need to pretend you're fine.

You don't have to worry about burdening someone.

And you don't have to have everything worked out before you arrive.

Sometimes talking things through can help you understand what you've been carrying, recognise patterns that have developed and begin to work out what you might need to change.

Because coping is important.

It gets us through difficult days.

But life shouldn't always have to feel like something you're simply getting through.

McQuirke Counselling

Online and telephone counselling for adults experiencing anxiety, stress, burnout, workplace pressure and life changes.

Free 15-minute initial consultation

You don't have to wait until you've stopped coping before asking for support.

Sometimes "I don't feel quite right" is enough of a reason to start a conversation.