The Debt Always Comes Due: What Happens When We Ignore Our Mental Health

Dr. Carmela Maxell: Hello, everyone, and welcome back to Rooted in Rising, the podcast where we explore the experiences, beliefs, and stories that shape who we are and who we're becoming. I'm your host, Dr. Carmela Maxwell. Today's conversation is one I've wanted to have for a long time. It's called The Debt Always Comes Due. What happens when we ignore our mental health? Because here's something I've learned. Mental health is a lot like credit card debt. You can ignore the bill, you can make minimum payments. You can convince yourself you'll deal with it next month. But eventually the balance comes due. And unlike money, your mind charges interest. Have you ever noticed that we say things like, I'm fine. I just need to get through this week. I'll rest after this project. I'll slow down once the semester ends. After the kids are older, after the promotion, after the divorce, after I graduate, after after after. And somehow There's always another after. We treat mental health like it's optional. Somewhere along the way, we started believing mental health was something we worked on after everything else was finished. We prioritized deadlines, emails, children, bills, careers, relationships, family obligations, everyone else's emergencies, until eventually. We become the last item on our own to do list. I'll be honest with you. There have been seasons where I was working a full-time job, teaching at university, raising three children, building programs, earning graduate degrees, going through divorce, writing books, launching businesses, recording podcasts, trying to show up for everyone else while quietly convincing myself I'm open. Okay. Not because I actually checked in with myself because I didn't have time to. Or at least that's what I told myself. We become professionals at functioning. One of the greatest misconceptions about mental health is that people who are struggling look like they're struggling. Sometimes they do, but sometimes they're high performers. They're smiling, winning awards, leading meetings, showing up early, leaving late, helping everyone else, crossing things off their checklist. They're productive, they're dependable, they're exhausted. Functioning isn't the same thing as flourishing. Trauma doesn't expire. One thing I want people to understand is that trauma doesn't disappear because we ignore it. Childhood experiences, generational trauma, racism, sexism, loss, divorce, financial stress, caregiver fatigue, burnout, grief. They don't evaporate, they accumulate. Imagine putting one pebble into a backpack every day. One pebble doesn't weigh much. Neither do ten. But after years, you're carrying a mountain and wondering why you're tired. The body keeps sending emails. Our minds whisper before our bodies scream. It starts small. You stop sleeping, you become irritable, you forget things. Your patients get shorter, your headaches become more frequent. You start getting sick more often. Your appetite changes. Your back hurts. Your stomach hurts. Your blood pressure climbs. Your motivation disappears. These aren't random. They're notifications. Your body keeps sending emails that your mind keeps marking read later. Eventually, your body stops asking politely. The debt always comes due. Here's the part that changed my life. People often say, I finally decided to rest. Sometimes that's true. Other times, your body decided for you. Depression doesn't ask permission. Anxiety doesn't check your calendar. Burnout doesn't care about your deadlines. Sometimes your body simply says, I'm shutting this whole damn operation down. And suddenly you can't get out of bed. Not because you're lazy, but because the bill finally arrived. Depression and anxiety are terrible roommates. I always picture depression and anxiety as roommates who move into your house, never signed the lease, don't pay rent, eat all your groceries, complain about everything, and somehow convince you that you're the problem. They contribute nothing, yet they slowly take over every room. The longer they stay, the more normal they begin to feel. Until one day, you forget what your own house looked like before they moved in. So why do we wait? Because slowing down feels uncomfortable. Because productivity gets rewarded. Because rest feels lazy. Because asking for help feels weak. Because somewhere, many of us learned our worth is measured by what we produce, not who we are. Interest compounds Mental health debt works exactly like financial debt. Ignore it today and tomorrow costs more. Ignore tomorrow and next year costs even more. The conversation you avoided becomes resentment. The grief you buried becomes depression. The stress you normalized becomes illness. The boundaries you never set become burnout. Interest compounds. So how do we begin? Not by waiting for a crisis, by making regular payments, sleep, boundaries, movement, therapy, medication if appropriate, friendship, laughter, prayer, quiet, journaling, asking for help, saying no. Checking in with ourselves before we check our email. Those aren't luxuries. They're monthly payments on your mental health. The brain was never designed to live like this. One of the biggest misconceptions we have about mental health is believing that our brains are infinitely adaptable. They're incredibly adaptable, but they're not invincible. Psychologists have long understood that chronic stress changes the way our brains function. When we're under prolonged stress, our bodies repeatedly activate what's known as the hypothalmic pituitary adrenal axis or the HPA axis. Think of it as your body's alarm system. When danger appears, your brain sounds the alarm. Your adrenal glands release cortisol and adrenaline. Your heart beats faster. Your muscles tense. Your breathing changes. Your attention narrows. That's incredibly useful if you're running from a bear. It's much less useful when the bear is your inbox or your finances or caregiving or racism or uncertainty or grief. Or working 70 hours a week because you feel like slowing down isn't an option. The problem isn't that stress exists. The problem is that many of us never turn the alarm off. Eventually, our brains stop asking, is there danger? And begin assuming danger must always be here. That's when anxiety becomes chronic. That's when exhaustion becomes normal. That's when survival quietly replaces living. There's a phrase I often come back to in psychology. The body keeps score. Much credit to Bessel Vanderkoch. Our minds have remarkable ways of pushing difficult emotions aside. Our bodies are much less interested in pretending. Research has consistently linked chronic psychological stress to increased inflammation throughout the body, elevated blood pressure, cardiovascular disease, weakened immune function, gastrointestinal problems, chronic pain, sleep disturbances, memory impairment, and even changes in brain regions responsible for learning and emotional regulation. We often think of depression as sadness. Sometimes it looks like sadness. Other times it looks like fatigue, difficulty concentrating, getting sick every few weeks, brain fog, headaches, migraines, tension in your shoulders, digestive issues. Losing interest in things you once loved. Feeling emotionally numb. Our bodies don't separate emotional pain from physical pain nearly as much as we do. The nervous system simply knows something isn't right. And over time, it starts speaking louder. Sometimes our panic attacks, our anxiety attacks, are really our bodies saying, I've been trying to get your attention for years. Society loves self-care until you actually practice it. Here's one of the greatest contradictions I see. Society constantly tells us take care of yourself. Protect your peace. Mental health matters. Don't forget self-care. We print it on mugs and t-shirts, post it on Instagram, hang it on office walls. Then we reward the exact opposite. We praise the employee who never takes vacation, the parent who never asks for help, the student who survives on three hours of sleep. The leader who's available 24 hours a day. The friend who says yes to everything. The caregiver who never complains. were applauded for self sacrifice and then reminded to practice self care. As though the two aren't constantly competing with one another. No wonder people are confused. We're told to rest while living in systems that often reward exhaustion. We're encouraged to establish boundaries while being praised for always being available. We're told family comes first while celebrating work cultures that demand otherwise. Those contradictions aren't going away anytime soon. Which means something incredibly important. Discernment becomes our responsibility. Not every expectation deserves your agreement. Not every opportunity deserves your yes. Not every demand deserves immediate access to your time. Sometimes, protecting your mental health means disappointing someone else's expectations. Let me say that again. Sometimes protecting your mental health means disappointing someone else's expectations. And that is not selfish. It's stewardship. Because if you burn yourself completely to the ground, you eventually become unavailable to everyone you were trying so hard to serve. So perhaps the question isn't how much more can I carry? Maybe the better question is what have I been carrying that was never mine to begin with? Because healing isn't only about learning to carry more. Sometimes it's finally giving yourself permission to put something down. I'll leave you with this. You cannot outrun yourself. You cannot outwork grief. You cannot outperform trauma. You cannot productivity hack your way around healing. Eventually, the debt always comes due. But here's the good news. Just like financial debt, Today is always a good day to start paying it back. One conversation, one boundary, one therapy appointment, one walk, one deep. One honest moment with yourself. Healing doesn't happen all at once. It happens one payment at a time. Thank you so much for spending a little time with me today. If this conversation resonated with you, share it with someone who's been caring more than they admit. If you're enjoying Rooted Ad Rising, please be sure to follow the podcast wherever you listen, leave a rating or review, and share these conversations with your friends, family, and community. Your support helps these messages reach people who may be searching for hope, healing, Or simply a reminder that someone understands. And if you'd like to continue the journey beyond the podcast, I'd love to invite you to read my debut novel, Bereavement, available now in paperback on Amazon, Kindle, and as an audiobook on Spotify. If you're looking for a story that explores grief, memory, love, and what it means to hold on to the people who shape us, I hope you'll add it to your reading list. You can also visit HTTP colon slash slash carmellamaxell.com to learn more about my work, upcoming events, and the latest projects, including my new app, Letters Never Sent, created as a space for reflection, healing, and the conversations that never found their ending. Until next time, take care of your mind. Protect your peace. Stay rooted in who you are. and keep rising into who you're becoming. Take care.