Hi, I’m Chelsea. I drive a minivan.
I didn’t want to drive a minivan. When people learn that I do drive one, they start assuming other things about me. They also assume: I drive slow, am distracted, have no taste in vehicles, have children, will make a bad decision whilst driving because I’m probably turned around yelling at said children, and that I shop at Costco every day.
Now…. some of those things might be true. But, guess what? I am not the minivan. I just drive it. I am a person. My name is Chelsea. I am not slow, distracted, tasteless, children, bad decisions, or Costco. I am a human and I am also worthwhile.
When you go out into the world, what sort of vehicle do you drive? Van? Jeep? Truck? Bicycle? Bus? Sedan? Train?
Are you large, difficult to turn, and roomy like that van? Are you fun outside but hard on the joints over speedbumps like a Jeep? How about pushy and a bit too high off the ground like a truck? Maybe you can’t really afford much in life or are environmentally conscious like a bicycle.
Our mental health struggles are our vehicles.
Say that you go out to the workplace after a difficult morning, only to snap at someone because they echoed a mean thought your Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder chugged and chugged and chugged. That wasn’t you, though. That was the OCD you have to take to work.
What about the night that Depression was your ride? That dark interior, battered trim, and iffy transmission was only how you got to the party, not who came inside.
And let’s not forget the lunchtime meeting you had with Anxiety. Your mechanic still shakes his head over the number of ‘strange noises’ you swear it kept making, the sudden stops, and its refusal to even start when you were at a traffic light.
Thinking about mental illness as a vehicle might make you say, “Well, then, why can’t we just get another car?” Money, mostly. Circumstance. What your insurance will cover. What you need for your size of family, parking space, parking expenses, and (again) budget.
That’s not to say you’re stuck forever in your quirky transport, nor that you can’t address some of its more-limiting issues. In fact, you really need to address them.
-If you are repeatedly blocked from getting the engine to even start
-If you are constantly arriving late
-If you cannot seem to ever get out of the seatbelt when necessary
It’s time to see a mechanic -er, a therapist or mental health doctor of some sort.
No matter the age or condition of the vehicle, they can always help. No, your car will not be the same as when you first unknowingly signed that crappy contract and drove it home -but, do you want it to be?
And, sometimes, you do get a different ride. Sometimes you have no choice. Sometimes it’s better, sometimes worse. But, the car you drive is still not you.
You are you. Most importantly, you are always the driver. Never forget that.
Photo credit:
Rodolfo Mari
Pixabay
James Sullivan
Pingback: What’s the Make, Model, and Year of Your Mental Health Struggle? — The Bipolar Writer Mental Health Blog | Ups and Downs of Family History V2.0
Thanks. 🙂
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I drive one of those boxy square crossovers that people often refer to as toasters. The suspension is rough! It has a lot of miles on it, but the gas mileage is not bad. I wish the windows didn’t get so foggy, the wipers worked better, and the lights were brighter. I just got a new transmission! I hope the warranty never wears out.
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If you keep up on its maintenance, I’m sure that you’ll have a reliable ride for a good long while! 🙂
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Just beautifully metaphorical.
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The idea really clicked with me! 🙂
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Well done.
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Interesting and thought-provoking.
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Thank you.
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This is an incredible analogy. I, too, drive a minivan. Circa 1998.
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😀 They are terribly convenient.
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Absolutely love this analogy. More often than not I would say I am a practical car like my Honda civic. Every now and then a sporty Mercedes comes out of the garage, gets lots of attention and feels incredible. Sometimes I am a beaten up, rusty, tired old banger that mainly sits outside not moving at all. Today I want to be the banger but I’m aspiring to the honda civic. Thanks again Chelsea.
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Y’know, a lot of people use Civics as an affordable pimpin’ up car…. Or, of course, you can follow my preferred option of looking like your car but acting like a Mercedes.
Ain’t no one gonna tell my minivan any different! 😀
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Pingback: What’s the Make, Model, and Year of Your Mental Health Struggle? — The Bipolar Writer Mental Health Blog. Great food for thought this morning… – Jaydhalia
Thanks! 🙂
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I love the comparisons you made between how we perceive ourselves and the cars we drive. Very insightful and interesting! 🙂
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Thank you. Just some minivan thoughts for the day…. 🙂
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Love this analogy!
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Thank you! 🙂
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I am a mental health blogger too and I could so relate with what you’ve written. Thank you for putting it up!
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You are welcome. Thank you for reading! 🙂
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Today I’m a hummer. With bulletproof armor…..
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Ha ha! You go, girl!
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