The Mean Reds

Lets face it, I know the first thing that comes to mind when a female makes the comment, "mean reds." If you are a guy (even a woman), you automatically jump to the conclusion that she has her monthly visit from mother nature where her body is slightly “out-of-whack” and emotions are running wild. For one, seriously…just going through that sucks and having it used against you just heightens those rocky/emotional grounds. In all honesty, it’s always quick to blame that very awkward and annoying time of month. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

When I sat down and decided to write on this topic, this term was something I always used in my teens, but never realized where I picked it up. Even now, searching for the right images through a quick search, nothing comes up as an accurate description of what it means to me. The most accurate description is basically a movie quote, which is probably where I adapted the saying.

“You know those days when you get the mean reds?”

“The mean reds? You mean like the blues?”

“No. The blues are because you’re getting fatter and maybe it’s been raining too long; you’re just sad, that’s all. The mean reds are horrible though. Suddenly you’re afraid, and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?”

~Holly Golightly, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”

Shout out to one of the best movies ever, (Audrey Hepburn + Redemption Story=All-time Favorite). Unfortunately, due to character representations, most people may never agree to watch this movie again, which would be a shame.

It’s not something I speak of often or acknowledge. But considering years have passed, time being lost and knowing one day the chance of developing the beginning stages of dementia (getting angry at simple things), I think it’s appropriate to write it down, let go and understand it’s okay. Especially if others have felt the same, but did not understand how to define those feelings.

Being an adolescent female and going through changes and emotions is always going to be a different experience from female to female. I remember in the late 90’s, a book was published (Reviving Ophelia) which encompassed the best understanding and allowed me to understand and relate to what I was going through. I love my sister’s and I am extremely blessed I have them in my life. But I was not built the same as them. I know everyone feels they have the world on their shoulders, and it can become very difficult to navigate interpersonal feelings when you are trying to keep a brave, strong, care-free and happy presence.

Depression is a fact of life; it’s a personal demon that most of the population can keep at bay. Some struggle harder than others; very rarely will two people ever face the same experience. Even now, sifting through memories and trying to place a finger on where mine developed into a stronger presence is hard to define. I remember being bullied and teased in 7th grade (my last name “Bell” made it fun to pick on me, my arms are unnaturally hairier than others in my mind). I remember going through Junior High fighting to be accepted (which I always was, but in my mind, I never felt like I fit in). Everything came to head my Sophomore year in high school. I remember being completely emotionally fragile, where simple pleasures always had a reverse reaction and I would either meltdown, cry or completely lash out. Keep in mind, most of this occurred in my head as I kept the external persona of “happy” alive. What I remember is at one point, I knew I had to reach out for help before it consumed me. I went to my school’s councilor and just started talking.

Unfortunately, with my situation, she couldn’t help me. I received the diagnosis of being young, going through adolescence and potentially having a “chemical imbalance” and was sent back to class. It’s comical how easy mental health used to be stated. And at the time, hearing chemical imbalance and maybe you should eat more stimulant fruits will correct your mood. Really? So, what you are telling a 16-year-old is that eating an orange will make them happy. With that advise, I found my own resolution; I started to write. I started to release emotions on paper, (simple paragraphs) to get them out of my head.

How does this relate to the ‘Mean Reds’? Whereas Holly Golightly tied her mean reds to being afraid, I learned to tie them into my angry moments that writing could never fix. Sometimes they were on-sought for a couple hours; sometimes they were a couple days. Mine were tied to the emotional reaction of seeing everything through red glasses. Colors dulled into harsher tones. When I’m going through them, only I can pull myself out of them. That’s the hardest thing for my husband to realize today when they attack. He is as powerless as I am unapproachable.

What is my endgame to this story? It is nothing more than to let you know you are not alone. We all get depressed; we all get blue; we all get angry. And even if you feel like you are going through it alone, you absolutely are not. The hardest part of the mean reds is that you must face it alone and sometimes you project that anger on to another's presence. Don’t! Learn to walk away from others to re-group your mixed emotional state. Find something that works for you. Write, work-out, paint, get out of your house and get out of your head. The mean reds are survivable. Emotions are survivable. Find your outlet to release and always go back to it. If your outlet fails to work, then look in another direction.

And when all else fails, understand you are not alone!

Stay Classy, my beautiful dreamers.