The principle of “fuck it” is quite possibly the most empowering approach to mental illness recovery.
You see, I’m a mess.
I was diagnosed with anorexia and depression at 16 years old, was admitted to a psychiatric ward at 17 and have been struggling ever since with the seemingly innate desire to starve myself to death and the rational want to live a happy and stable life.
I’m a worrier. I worried about the past, the present and the future. I’ve worried about the should haves, the would haves and the might have beens. I’m an over thinker too, so you can imagine the stress and misery I’ve caused myself over the years (best not to dwell on it).
Faced with the end of my formal education -at long last- I have had to square up to and genuinely consider what the bloody hell I am going to do with myself. What career am I going into? Where will I live? Will I get a graduate scheme? Will I have to move back to my parents’ full time?
It’s almost become so overwhelming that I have ceased to bother myself with such matters. On the practical side, I am of course looking for jobs and applying to anything that catches my fancy. Does that mean, however, that I must drive myself into insanity because I am faced with my future?
This is where the principle of “fuck it” comes in. Now, I do not see this as an excuse to be reckless or irrational. Honestly: it’s just not my style. Nevertheless, it is useful to see that there are some things that are just not worth the time nor effort worrying about. If I get a job right away, great. If not, also great. It’s not the end of the world, Alee. With this greater context in mind, it has offered me another perspective on my mental health problems.
As my weight has slowly been creeping up I have taken my principle of “fuck it” and I
have applied it really rather effectively to anorexia. It’s obviously not a case of internally shouting at my inner monologue at any given moment but it is providing me with a strange sense of freedom.
“Fuck it” enables you to realise that sometimes, just sometimes, the little things really are just the little things.
Little things like the number on the scale, like the extra mouthful at dinner, like your reflection, like the thought that pops up and proceeds to ruin your entire day, like fears about events that are not only not happening, but may never happen.
It’s made me reconsider what the big and little things really are. What’s worth worrying about and what’s not? What’s thinking over the situation one more time going to do? What’s fretting over the next few weeks and months going to change?
Those two words have helped me, I hope they can help you too.