My Radical Act of Sanity: Giving Myself Permission Not to Be Okay

Several weeks ago, life became too much.

Work was overwhelming. My relationship with my fiancé was going off the rails, and we had stopped communicating meaningfully. My volunteer commitments had become a full-time job, competing with my full-time job as a business owner. As the caregiver for my aging father, I was experiencing something I had never anticipated: resentment. His needs were beginning to feel overwhelming, and that resentment was accompanied by enormous guilt.

I was exhausted, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually drained. After a particularly frightening and hurtful argument with my fiancé, I felt myself spiraling.

So, I committed what is called a radical act of sanity: I ran away from home.

After our argument, he left to hang out with his friends. As the door closed behind him, I quickly logged into our joint Marriott Bonvoy account, booked a hotel room, packed a bag, grabbed some takeout, and checked in. For 24 hours, I took care of me.

I binge-watched A Different World, then went back and watched the original series, reminiscing about the nostalgia of a show that helped shape my college years. I tackled more than 100 work, personal, and community service emails that had created a backlog of epic proportions. And I cried that raw, ugly cry that leaves your eyes puffy, your throat sore, and your emotions exposed.

As each tear fell, I began to feel myself returning to a better place.

As luck would have it, I already had an appointment scheduled with my therapist for the following day. When I settled onto her couch (I know, I know, how cliché), she asked how I was doing. Naturally, I said, “I’m okay,” even though my energy told a very different story.

She took a deep breath and said, “Denise, it’s okay not to be okay.”

I stared at her. Then the tears started falling.

“Doc, I’m not okay.”

And with those four words, the real conversation began.

I told her about running away, about how, for those 24 hours, no one knew where I was. I admitted how sad I was that no one had come looking for me. I talked about my disappointment in my life at that moment, the weight of my responsibilities, and the loneliness of feeling as though no one was listening.

It was one of the most meaningful conversations I had experienced in a long time. With her help, I began to see a path forward.

The Power of a Radical Act of Sanity

A radical act of sanity is the intentional decision to interrupt the chaos of everyday life and prioritize your mental and emotional well-being. It’s giving yourself permission to pause, establish boundaries, practice mindfulness, and reconnect with what you need to feel grounded.

Sometimes, that means meditating or taking a walk. Sometimes, it means saying no, putting your phone on Do Not Disturb, or spending a night alone in a hotel room watching your favorite television show.

The point isn’t to escape your responsibilities forever. It’s to recognize when you need to step away long enough to care for yourself so you can return with greater clarity, perspective, and intention.

My 24 hours didn’t solve every problem. But it gave me the space to breathe, feel, cry, reflect, and begin again.

My radical act of sanity saved me. And more importantly, it reminded me of how important it is to remove shame from conversations about Mental Health.

October 10 was World Mental Health Day, a reminder that mental health deserves our attention every day, not just when a designated awareness day appears on the calendar.

We must stop treating mental health struggles as something to hide. We can be successful business owners, devoted partners, loving children, committed volunteers, and dependable friends while still struggling emotionally. One does not cancel out the other.

When I made the decision to speak openly about seeing a therapist, I was overwhelmed by the number of friends who reached out asking for her contact information. That response reminded me that so many people are quietly carrying burdens of their own, looking for permission to seek help.

There is no shame in therapy. There is no shame in asking for help. And there is certainly no shame in admitting that life sometimes becomes more than we can manage alone.

We spend so much time showing up for everyone else that we forget we deserve that same care and consideration. So, check on yourself. Listen to your body. Honor your feelings. Find your own radical act of sanity. Talk to someone you trust. And if you need professional support, seek it. You don’t have to wait until you’re falling apart to prioritize your mental health.

Sometimes, the bravest thing you can say is, “I’m not okay.” And sometimes, healing begins when someone reminds you that it’s okay to not be healed yet.

After all, we all get by with a little help from our friends. And sometimes, a good therapist, a hotel room, some takeout and a marathon of A Different World don’t hurt either.