who we’re meant to be

You know what’s great?

I didn’t ask for this picture.

Clearly she’s happy about it.

Clearly she knows what it means.

I didn’t ask her to run across the museum exhibit with a huge smile on her face and point up to it. She just did.

And I think that’s why it’s going to be ok.

Not just her. Not just me. Not just all of the unnamed people I know and love that will (or won’t) talk about their own mental health when they are good and ready. All of us. It will be OK for all of us.

The Science Museum of Minnesota has a new exhibit on mental health and it is incredible.

INCREDIBLE.

Want to know what schizophrenia feels like? Have a seat - there’s a booth for that.

Want to know how difficult it is for somebody with autism to tune out the stimulus around them? Put on this headset and you’ll see it’s damn near impossible.

Wondering how that kid with an eating disorder can possibly see herself as fat? Stand in front of the reality check mirror - you’ll probably surprise yourself.

Shred your worries, face your fears, find out what treatment works best for depression, try to read strangers facial expressions as quickly as possible. It's pretty wonderful.

We bought a membership just so I can go back about a thousand times.

There was only one part I don’t totally get.

The phrase, “mental illness”. As you enter the exhibit there is a video screen of people admitting  they have a “mental illness” or “mental health disorder”.

Don’t misunderstand. I am not a person who is offended by words. I don’t think the entire country needs to change it’s vernacular to suit my agenda. I quite frankly I don’t give two hoots what words they use if it gets people in there. I just don’t know if it’s the RIGHT word.

I mean, if we could take 100 human hearts and lay them out on a table to study, chances are 95 of them would work in the exact same manner - 4 chambers, pumping our 8 pints or whatever it is, at approximately the same rate, 24 hours straight.

But brains?

If we laid 100 of those things out, none of them would be exactly the same. If we laid out 1000 or maybe even 1,000,000 - we still probably wouldn’t find a match. So which brain is right? Which one is healthy?  Apparently I have a mental illness - generalized anxiety disorder. And it’s true that my brain will always worry more about locking the doors than Rico’s will, and I will never be able to calculate a tip as fast as he can, but  his brain can’t choreograph a song while he's listening to it in the car, and he can’t remember the names of everyone in his kindergarten class like I me, so maybe his brain is the one that’s defective. Nobody in our family puts color together like Kooka, nobody in our family can read an animal’s cues like Tiny, nobody can memorize the entire script of a movie after seeing it once like Punk. Each of us are gloriously different - but I wouldn't say one of us is less able than the other. Less able at certain things maybe - but not less able.

I think everybody needs help sometimes. I think psychotherapy works great for some people. I think some people need medication to help their brains function in a better way. I think that despite years of trial and error and therapy and meds some people never get to experience the beauty of life that the rest of us do. But I’m not sure which part is the burden and which part is the blessing. Which is the part that's illness and which is the part that's genius? Maybe we are all just who we are meant to be, and when we reach out to support each other in whatever way works, we can make each other smile like Tiny did today. Maybe we can make it all OK.