4 . How to Support a Friend Struggling with Their Mental Health?

Maybe you've noticed a friend is opening up to you for the first time about their anxiety.     1    . Here is what you can do when supporting someone who's struggling with their mental health.

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Instead of making assumptions about what would be helpful to your loved one，ask them directly, “How can I support you?” Remember what you may need when you're struggling may not be what someone else needs when having a hard time.

Offer to help with everyday tasks 

Many people struggling with their mental health may find it difficult to make basic decisions. Instead of using a common phrase “I'm here if you need me”，try to be specific about what you're offering.     3    

Celebrate their wins, including the small ones 

When a person is struggling with their mental health, every day can be full of challenges.    4    . This can help affirm their feelings of agency. This could look like thanking them for being so honest or congratulating them for going to work.

Read up on what they're struggling with 

    5    . Take the time to educate yourself on what they're going through. For example, learning more about depression, so you can understand their lived experience and be aware of risky behaviors to look out for.

5 . As I went down the wooden snowy steps, I held the rough fence with one hand, held my crying daughter Kelly with the other and made my way into the yard. I knew everything would be okay if I located my mother.

Instead of a smile, she greeted me with concern. I knew she had read my face as I’d approached. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

I held the baby out. “I can’t take care of this baby,” I said simply. My mother didn’t take her from my arms as I expected. She smiled slightly, and then replied firmly, “You have to take care of that baby.” This was not the reply I wanted. Couldn’t she hear the baby crying? I wanted her to fix this problem. Instead, she took off her gloves and asked me in for some coffee.

Mom held Kelly while I held the coffee cup. At that moment the baby finally stopped crying. I glanced over at Kelly, content in my mother’s arms. Her tiny blue eyes were fixed on me, as if to ask, “What’s the problem here, Mama?” Her sweet, familiar breath eased the stress in the air. I looked at my mother, feeling foolish but relieved. She stood and placed an arm around my shoulders. “By the time you came along, things were quite the opposite for me. But with your elder brother, you can bet that I often felt helpless.”

The baby showed no signs of our afternoon struggle, while my own hair remained damp and messy from sweat and worry. “Crying is the only way babies have to communicate. Try to listen to her cries and hear them as language. She’s not crying to annoy you; she’s trying to send a message with the only voice she has.”

Once again, her gentle guidance had supported me through a storm and back into clear skies.

6 . My 10-year-old Donna said, "Mom, I made a new friend at school today. Can she come over tomorrow?" Donna was a shy girl and I wanted her to make some friends to bring her out of her shell.

"Sure, honey, that sounds great." I said, thinking back to my own best friend, Lillian. We lived across the street from each other in Washington Heights, New York. We met at the age of 10, too. Like my daughter, I was shy, but Lillian drew me out. She was one of the friendliest people in school, with shiny black hair and a mile-wide smile. I knew we would be best friends forever.

In senior high school, Lillian went on a trip to Florida. This was the first time we had to be away from each other for a few days. "I'll be back soon." she told me. But three days later, Lillian's sister told me that she had fallen into a river and hadn't come out any more. Soon, my family moved to New Jersey. Whenever I thought of her, tears came into my eyes.

The next day Donna brought her new friend home. "Hi, Mrs. Loggia." the little girl said. Her hair was so shiny and black and she shot me a big smile. "My name is Laura."

My daughter's new friend was so much like Lillian. I was still puzzled when Laura's mom came to pick her up later that afternoon. I opened the door to let her in. "Judy!" she cried. "It's me, Lillian's sister, from Washington Heights." Yes, my daughter's friend looked familiar. She was Lillian's niece.

7 . When I was worried my son was coming down with a little something, I remarked that his eating was slowing down a bit.

“I’ve noticed how fast you eat,” my wife’s Auntie Carmel said. I looked down at my plate — the plate from which my food had just been emptied — and looked up at her stare. “I’m not being critical,” she assured me, “and I find it fascinating.” She said “fascinating” in the way a polite member of the FBI might describe your recent Internet searches.

“You do eat pretty fast,” whispered my wife by the time I’d placed my knives and forks down. Her mother shared the same view shortly after that, and soon the entire table were unanimous in this opinion.

We were at my wife’s parents’ home in Dublin because Auntie Carmel was visiting from New York, and it was a good chance for her to meet our son, who immediately adored her. We all adore Auntie Carmel for her ability to speak her mind in a way that never seems rude.

In fairness to Carmel, I do eat quickly. I’m fond of saying it’s because I come from a large family. I now realize this makes no sense. There is also the fact that my wife’s mum and Auntie Carmel themselves both come from a family of 12. The same is true for her dad. Yet somehow, none of them eat as if their legs were on fire.

It’s a habit I picked up along the way, and I might have been permanently blind to it without this intervention. Left unexamined, it might have coloured my parenting, demanding my speed as a default (默认) for my son, for I remarked that his eating was slowing down a bit. For now, at least, he can clear his plate as slowly as he likes.

9 . How to Love Your Parents

Even if you think that your parents are mean-spirited at times , loving your parents is a normal and fulfilling part of life. You love them for the fact that they created you, raised you, and are in part, a source of who you are.     1    .

A gentle “good morning” and “I love you” will warm a coldest heart. Remember that they brought you into this world. Without your parents, we might still wander at an unknown corner in an unknown world.

Respect them more and cherish these moments. You can use these moments to learn from them when you're off on your own. It's OK to get angry but angry actions don't help you or your parents. Act calmly, cool off, write down your feelings, or talk to a friend.     2    .

Obey their requests. It will make your attitude better and earn you more respect from them. It may seem like you are going through hell when you don't get what you want or you have to clean. However, you had better remember they keep a roof over your head when it's cold, raining, snowing, or too hot. Understand that parents are human beings and make mistakes.     3     Since you can forgive your friends, why not forgive your parents?

Keep company with them. Do things with your parents like watching TV, or go somewhere with them.     4     Listen to their old stories and learn from them. You will find they are your teachers in this way or another.

Some people simply may not be able to love their parents.     5     Seek help if you are being abused in any way. Parents do not have a right to harm you.

10 . When I was a little girl, you and I loved decorating the living room and tree to make it look festive. We loved Christmas. After decorating, we would bake cakes. “Make enough mince pies (肉末馅饼), because Santa likes them,” you would tell me.

Christmas Eve came, I was totally excited at the thought of Santa coming. I’d get into my neatly made bed and fall asleep until Christmas morning.

I’d wake up and thrill at the sight before me. At the bottom of my bed would be loads of presents that Santa had brought during the night. I’d scream in delight, excitedly tearing the paper open. Running downstairs, I would discover there were also lots of presents around the Christmas tree.

Many years later, the tradition continued and we’d bake the mince pies and cakes. The only thing that stopped was the presents at the end of the bed I grew out of them.

One afternoon, we were making extra mince pies as usual when I casually commented that you really loved them, “Those extra mince pies were actually never for Santa, They were for you!” You never said a word a silly smile was your only reply.

Christmas changed in 1986,   when you suffered a serious brain haemorrhage ( 脑出血 ) . After suffering throughout Christmas, you passed away on the 29 December.

Only now am I starting to enjoy Christmas again, and while I don t do the baking any more, I do have mince pies in the house. I leave one out just for you, as if you were still a part of my Christmas. And I make sure I put up the decorations in memory of you, and us. At the end of the letter, thanks for the wonderful memories of Christmas, Mum.