You Don’t Need to be ”Fixed”—You Need to be Accepted
Facing “BAD” mental health days
A note about today’s post:
Dearest Reader,
I feel like quitting Substack—released last week, and I wanted to make sure I let you know that I’m not quitting Substack.
And I want to take a moment to thank the women who reached out to me personally and encouraged me to stay—letting me know how much this publication meant to them.
I hesitated to share some of their encouraging words because they had me in tears. But I think it feels right to share what this publication means—the shape of it, and that it has become something for women, beyond what I had known. Wildflowers Grow as a publication has become its own beautiful space, because of beautiful people like you.
Here are some of their voices:
“You are one of my favourite Substack’s here. You bring so much raw depth, truth, honesty, compassion, and kindness. Just know that your words are read and resonate with people.”
“Please don’t stop writing on Substack. Your beautiful writing also released tears in me. My nana and gran said : Ca, you have to cry to release sadness, otherwise you will get very ill. Thank you so much, Ma’am. I need a safe space right now with beautiful flowers and sea scapes and all that is precious and kind.”
“Alice thank you for sharing that vulnerability. The people staying here with you are the ones who are desperate for words they cannot find until they read something like this. You matter here in ways that are much bigger than money.”
“Alice, your words are always such an honest reflection of what many of us experience but aren't comfortable expressing.”
I can barely read them now. They bring tears to my eyes.
It’s hard to accept goodness when so much of your life you were told that you weren’t good enough and you never would be.
Except for the reader who threatened me—but you know, I think her heart was in the right place. Lol
It’s good to stay, because I have SO much content already written: another series, more stand-alone posts, and an outline of an additional series about shedding, feminine reclaiming and transformation as we move through the Fall season.
Here’s what I want to say: Wildflowers Grow as a publication will continue to be a safe space for women and survivors. A place to rest and grow—flourish and connect. And also a place to amplify the light within the voices of those who have been silenced.
The post is for paid readers. But I am going to offer it for free for you today.
Because it feels right today.
The post below is part of the Grounded & Wild summer series—a place where we can gather and find recalibration and exhale in the midst of the chaos the season of summer usually brings, especially for survivors, cycle breakers and those of us fighting mental illness.
The last four posts grounded us, leaning away from the noise to take a breath but now we are pivoting. With this post as the starter to the next four—now we are leaning into the dance: listening with the utmost compassion to the pain that’s trying desperately to speak. It communicates through overwhelm, through body pains, through sickness and so much more.
In these next four posts, we will be listening.
And you’re invited. We can listen together.
With so much love and light,
Alice Wild
Click here to join the series, support this publication with its message and become a paying reader.
Reading in the app? Substack makes upgrading a little tricky—just tap the link above, open it in your browser (not the app), log in, and you’ll be all set.
P.S. Wildflowers Grow releases a post every Tuesday (paid) and Thursday (free). Today’s Tuesday (paid) post is FREE but next week, we’ll go back to our regularly scheduled program. ❤️
🎧And paid posts (including this one) always have a full voiceover recorded alongside the post, so you can listen at your own convenience.
I’ve had a rough week.
My mental health had spiraled into dark places. And it’s strange how the realization feels sudden and surprising every time—like blinking away a dream and finding myself near the black depths of the ocean.
How did I get here? And how long have I been here?
I find myself wishing with all of my being that I didn’t feel like I was trudging through knee-deep mud. I felt the wall in my existence, the things I was battling and the reality was shocking.
Because so much of my life, I have been told “it’s all in your head” and “good mental health is simple—it’s just mind over matter.”
But these are lies.
Lies that simply perpetuated the dark.
My kids needed lunch and with shaking hands I had to take breaks cutting an apple and encouraging myself to breathe while fighting tears. One slice…two….*overwhelm* that swept me up and out of existence and plunged me into emotional hell…then back to the present, seeing the apple in front of me…breathe…breathe…breathe…it’s okay.
A few more slices and back into the emotional hell—the waves of emotional memory and terror hitting me as I fought to breathe and make it through the waves.
Half-way through, I thought in panic, that I might need to call my husband to work from home. I put the knife down, braced the countertop and took deep breaths. Box breathing.
I looked at the half-cut apple. Fighting the waves felt like trying to walk against an invisible current. I felt it in that very moment—like the peak of a bench press, the moment you’re unsure you can hold it any longer.
Except there was nowhere for me to set down the weight.
Panic threatened to consume me.
But I told myself gently that I could do this—just one slice at a time. It didn’t matter how long it took. And…that our scheduled quiet time was coming up (with the kids). I could lie down and breathe for a whole hour during that time. We were just going to keep taking it a few minutes at a time.
The weight seemed to lighten. It took me over ten minutes to slice up that apple.
I didn’t show my kids the pain or the tears. I didn’t want to burden them or have them learn in any way that it’s their job to fix me. But I did set some gentle boundaries and try to set the tone in a way that was doable: Mommy can’t play with you but I can give you the biggest hug ever and tell you I love you so much. How about we snuggle and read on the couch? Do you want to pick out what we have for lunch?
It was what I could do. And I work so hard on being present for them in the best capacity I can. I want my children to feel seen, heard and loved completely for who they are.
There was a time where I shamed myself for not being the perfect mom.
A normal mom would be able to cut an effing apple, play with their kids all day, make dinner with a smile on her face and hold a job.
But that’s not me. At least, not today.
I have to hope that someday my kids might understand that I tried my best. And if they tell me something I did wrong, something that hurt them, that I would listen. Really listen, hold space for all their pains and love them in a way that they need from a mother.
These are some of the thoughts I had this week as I’ve pondered what it means to have “bad” days.
Bad days are part of the journey—and once we accept them, maybe they wont be so “bad”
I used to shame myself over the “bad” days. I wished with all of my being that I could just be happy—be normal—be good. But this was a type of shame in of itself. I wanted to be “fixed”.
This type of cognitive dissonance created a terribly deep pain.
Now, I feel like I am accepting a new way forward. And I am not saying that it works for everyone or that it’s the “right” mindset. I am a bit exhausted from black and white “healing” mental health language.
Just that this has worked for me.
Instead of seeing these as “bad” days—I am starting to see them more as “low” or “low energy” days. And most importantly: as the natural ebb and flow of my life. Instead of shaming myself when they come and feeling so much pain in wishing the feelings away, I am accepting them.
Instead of “fixing” myself—I am “accepting” myself.
Accepting the rush of feelings.
Accepting the wave of pain. Hearing out my inner child as she screams in pain, curls into a ball and has stayed silent for so long—for so many excruciating years and now the pain has bubbled up so large, so intensely, it bursts out. Sometimes in leaks, sometimes in waves.
It’s my job now to listen.
To accept.
To have bottomless and eternal compassion in the raw.
Because she never got that. No one might understand her or give a shit. But I do. If no one else will—then I will.
Conclusion - Grounded & Wild
So if you takeaway one thing from this post today, may it be this:
What if we tried not to fight or deny our “bad” or low energy days, moments or hours? Instead, what if we embraced them? Exchanging shame or frustration with empathy and endless compassion for ourselves.
What if you told yourself: “It makes sense I feel this way.”
We’ve been told this is indulgent. That this is weak. But shoving away the feelings is the easy thing. And we can only do it for so long. It’s only a matter of time before we take the feelings out on ourselves or other people. True strength lies in facing the pain inside with absolute honesty. Then holding on as we ride the waves that inevitably come.
So today, as I let my hair air dry instead of blow drying and straightening it
as I pick out comfy clothes, take breaks and eat a few iced animal crackers with sprinkles
and write this post to you,
I am accepting this cloud—this fog. Knowing that it isn’t forever.
Truly listening to the pain inside is the pathway to real healing and freedom. But it’s a delicate balance of capacity and honesty as well as not wishing away the pain and accepting the journey that I am on—the journey that we are all on.
Because the obstacles
—the cloud
—the fog
—the “bad” day
—the low energy
they are all part of the path.
Wildflower Roots - Paid Subscription
A behind-the-scenes look at what’s next—and connection as we walk this healing journey together, through sunshine and storms.
📝Wildflowers Grow publication days are weekly—Tuesdays: paid and Thursdays: free.
💛 What’s next:
Thursday July 10th (free): I Had a Hyperfixation Wear Off and Now My Life Feels Like a Black Hole - in this raw and open post, I share past mini-obsessions from knowing the PH balance for proper propagation and chess strategy (when Queen’s Gambit came out) to memorizing every word in Fellowship of the Ring. This month, I had a hyperfixation fizzle out and it has left me restless with existential thoughts. I wondered about the nature of hyperfixations tied to neurodivergence and how we can best navigate the highs and lows.
Tuesday, July 15th (paid post): Hulu’s “The Bear” Family Christmas Scene Made My Husband to Throw Up - We learned after-the-fact that this episode (a whopping a hour and a half) has triggered many people, causing emotional breakdowns. It’s a scene of violent family brokenness and an unwritten rule to pretend everything is okay till everything shatters. Avoidance of unhealthy family dynamics caused his body to want to get it out—with physical vomiting. A panic attack and an hour of grounding, we revisited what his body was trying to tell him. What it was trying to tell us.
💬 Join the conversation: How do you feel about “bad” or low energy days? Has there been a pain lately your inner child has wanted to voice—to be heard with compassion and self-defence?
Grounded & Wild (Paid Reader) Summer Series
I’ll be linking our 8-week summer series here in case you miss one or ever feel like revisiting. 🎧 Note that each one of these posts has a voiceover, you can listen to at your convenience.
Part I Leaning Away to Ground
Week 1 - Rewiring Your Nervous System to Feel Joy, Even in the Chaos, Summer chaos can be a threat to our nervous system—how do we unwind the coil of anxiety, the mental load, and the weight of expectations that tell us we must hold it all together?
Week 2 - How Summer Chaos Affects the Neurodivergent Brain, Nervous system recalibration—what hinders us and what helps
Week 3 - A Somatic Recalibration for Summer Overwhelm, Finding peace not just in your mind—but in your body and soul
Week 4 - Softness as Resistance: Letting Yourself Be Tender in a Demanding World, Why your tenderness might be the most grounded and wild thing you offer this season
Part II Leaning Towards to Nurture
Week 5 - You Don’t Need to be ”Fixed”—You Need to be Accepted, Facing “BAD” mental health days
Week 6 - Hulu’s “The Bear” Family Christmas Scene Made My Husband Throw Up, When unresolved pain has physical consequences (COMING NEXT)
Week 7 - TBA
Week 8 - TBA
📚Paid Reader Private Bookshelf
Grab your favorite cup of warm cozy tea, a comfortable reading spot and feel free to browse your private bookshelf at any time. These essays are my best and deepest writing, available just for you. Feel free to return to this bookshelf to read or listen (to the audio files, available for paid readers only—that’s you!) at anytime.
Thank you. Normal just means normative which just means the most frequent form of something. Frequent does not imply a +|- value though people insist on applying one - every way of being exists on a bell curve. Personally I don’t want to exist on the top of the curve. It’s boring to be like the norm❤️⭕️❌. ( I like to reduce us to math - I know it’s weird, just like me, thank goddess!)
Myron, your child is in hell