If no one has asked you lately, and if you haven’t asked yourself, I am here to ask: how are you doing? And not what would you tell your friend or professor or acquaintance in passing—but how are you really doing? I want to know, and I want you to know that the answer to this question is extremely valuable. 

I’ve found that my answer to that question is always changing, primarily because plans and expectations and guidelines are, too. I’ve learned that it’s not enough for me to check-in with myself once a week or once a month—I need to do it daily. I can’t base my assessment of how I’m feeling or the state of my mental health and well-being off of my answer to that question from 10 days ago. Because I would probably be denying, suppressing, or ignoring my current feelings. Those constant changes get me every time.

About a month ago, I was walking upstairs in the Wesley House—a physical house that also happens to be the name of the student ministry I’ve been involved with throughout college. The house is usually bustling with people grabbing coffee, studying, laughing, avoiding studying—just being. Of course, that hasn’t happened for quite some time. Now the only people allowed in the Wesley House given Covid conditions are the small groups. 

On this cloudy Thursday afternoon (because the weather makes everything more dramatic), I walked through the cozy living room and turned to head up the stairs. And right as my foot was about to hit the first step, I stopped. I turned my head back to the living room, and with no warning, a wave of deep sadness came over me. Tears I didn’t even know where there rose to the surface.

I remembered all the times I’d sat on those couches late into the night with countless combinations of people. All the times I’d walked past the living room to go study upstairs. All the times I’d heard an eruption of laughter at the dining room table from outside. And now here I was with a mask on my face and an empty house. Those memories felt like a different lifetime ago. But hey—at least no one was there to see me use my mask to wipe the tears and snot off my face. 

I left the house that afternoon thinking that things are not supposed to be this way. I wondered, Does anyone else recognize the fact that this is really not normal in any way? When will this end? When will things finally settle down? I don’t want to spend my final year of college staring at a screen when the people on the other side are ones I’ve grown to love so dearly in the past four years.  

I have a feeling you’ve had some of these thoughts somewhere along the way. It’s all too easy to keep going through these days without acknowledging the reality that we are still living in strange times. No matter how much this might feel like a “new normal,” it’s not. 

We’re desensitized to statements like, “We’re all in this together!” or “Things are just so crazy.” I realized that I’d begun to deny the reality that there is still so much grief and sadness of changing plans happening. While we might be more used to the fact that things change a lot, that still doesn’t make the grief any easier. The loss of what once was is still real. 

So I found myself asking that question: How am I doing? Really? Even after months of this pandemic and navigating lots of twists and turns in the road, I was reacquainted with this reminder:

What we need in this season might look different than it did pre-Covid. It might look different than it did in the initial stages of the pandemic, or even a few weeks ago. Acknowledging the fact that this is not normal and that we have to consciously act to take care of ourselves (including our mental health) is the first step in doing just that—taking care of ourselves.

When things have seemed to be going “fine” for long enough, I have to ask myself: am I hiding behind easy comforts and avoiding honestly answering the question, “How am I doing?” Am I avoiding answering it even to myself? I find it’s almost hardest to be honest with myself for some reason. But until we are honest with ourselves, we won’t be able to show up to our lives authentically. We will be stuck deceiving ourselves that we are “fine” or that these are just “crazy times.” 

So how do we move through this process of answering this question? Through the general sense of anxiety, weariness, despair, or anything else we may be feeling?

When I’m not sure how I’m doing because I’ve been running around staying busy and occupying my mind with other matters, these are a few of the things that ground me. They help me authentically check in with myself—not just brush past my mental health.

Journaling

If I don’t make it a habit, I never do it. I wait until things seem to have unraveled before I pick up a pen and get my thoughts on paper. Even last night I found myself wanting to avoid this, but that’s when I know I need it most. We don’t have to wait until the building collapses—we can get through our thoughts now. I’ve found that the more I get the thoughts out of my head, the easier it gets to sort through them and address thoughts as they pop up. 

If you’re not a journal-y type of person, here are some starting points and prompts that can help get the thoughts flowing. “Today was hard because…” or “The things causing me the most worry right now are…” or “When I think about the next week, I feel _______ because…”  “I’m uneasy about  ______ done because…”

Walking

This is one of the healthiest habits that Covid has helped me implement. There’s something about being outside that is always so refreshing. Similarly to journaling, the times I need the refreshment and movement the most, I try to convince myself I can skip it this week or on that day. So I have to schedule it in my calendar. I can’t just “hope” to go on a walk every day this week. I have to intentionally pencil it in. 

Depending on what I need on a certain day, listening to a podcast or worship music can be healing. Other days I need to unplug and I leave my headphones at home so I can go on a more intentional prayer walk with God to keep my thoughts focused on Him. 

Counseling

This has been the biggest blessing. Whether I have a specific hard thing to process or am simply struggling to ground myself and walk through the anxiety and changes of Covid, I am a huge advocate of counseling. There are seasons that I need to bring my thoughts, my insecurities, my feelings and sort through them with another person who is equipped to help me navigate and grow through them. 

This can be a hard choice, for sure. It would be so much easier to tell ourselves we’re fine and to continue getting by with quick comforts. To continue spiraling in the same cycles of worry, fear, and insecurity. It’s bold and courageous to take this step for ourselves—to fight for our health. If anyone has ever shamed or dismissed you for visiting a counselor, know that it is a beautiful act of strength, courage, and health. We all need a little help now and then, and it just so happens that Jesus calls the Holy Spirit the Helper (John 14:16). He’s in the business of helping us, and in certain seasons, counseling may be one way He provides that for us. 

There’s a lot going on right now. There are a lot of feelings in the air. And there are always pressures from the world to pull ourselves together and get on with it. But God doesn’t call us to get on with it; He calls us to go through it. To endure. To press in. 

Even if there’s no solution to what you’re feeling or how you’re doing today, honestly answering that question is a win. And I don’t know about you, but I am celebrating the little victories these days. I will take any win I can get in 2020, no matter its size. So grab some confetti and a slice of pie, and let’s raise a glass to the beauty and bravery of being honest with how we’re doing.