The Invisible Roller Coaster
One day you're up, the next you're down. Lorena's first guide for the Health lane — a letter to anyone fighting the silent war inside their own head.
La montaña rusa invisible.
On the days the mind races and the body goes still — and the quiet courage of opening your eyes again.
One day you’re up, the next you’re down. And yes, that’s the roller coaster living inside your head.
On the outside, a smile. An unsuspecting one, by the way. On the inside, an agony that only you know.
If you believe in God, hold on to Him. If you don’t, hold on to the strongest conviction you have — whatever still keeps you anchored to life when everything else seems to be falling apart.
There are days when your mind is racing a thousand miles an hour and seems completely unable to stop.
So much that it makes you dizzy.
So much that it leaves your hands cold.
So much that it eventually freezes you in place.
A thousand miles an hour inside your head, while your feet and your eyes remain still.
It’s paradoxical: feeling everything and feeling nothing at the same time.
Then you remember that you’re alive. So alive that sometimes you even wish you were dead. Not because you don’t love life — but because the pain feels too heavy. Yet you don’t have the strength, or the authority, to give up.
And so you keep going.
So alive that you can clearly see everything that thing which paralyzes you has taken from you: time, dreams, opportunities, color.
And that’s when you crash.
You try to sleep. You try to turn off the noise.
And the next day, you open your eyes again — and start all over.
Because that’s what this battle is: a silent war that few people see, and many do not understand.
So if you’re fighting, I want you to know this —
You are a warrior.
And I admire you.
If it’s someone you love
You don’t need perfect words. Ask how they are, and mean it. Stay. Help them reach someone. Then check in again.
Those are, almost word for word, the five steps the 988 Lifeline gives anyone worried about a friend: ask, be there, help keep them safe, help them connect, follow up. And you can contact 988 at any time if a friend is struggling (988 Lifeline, Help Someone Else).
And if it’s you
A heavy day is not the same as depression. The World Health Organization describes a depressive episode as different from regular mood swings: the symptoms are there most of the day, nearly every day, for at least two weeks. If that sounds like you, tell a doctor. There are effective treatments, including psychological treatment and medicines (WHO, Depression fact sheet).
And the small things the WHO lists still count on the hard days: stay connected to friends and family, move, even if it’s just a short walk, and keep regular eating and sleeping habits as much as you can (WHO).
If the noise is loudest at night, Torrie’s small, unglamorous steps for falling asleep faster may help on the nights it is only noise. Lorena’s second essay, The Art of Letting Go, picks up where this one ends, and both live on her contributor page.