First of all, thank you for all of the wonderful support after my first post. I'm glad to see some people are relating and/or getting something out of it.
I was originally going to write my posts in chronological order to explain my story, but I don't know that that makes sense. And I'm not sure all of it really matters. I'll just get the nitty gritty out of the way. I mentioned a little in the last post, but I have been diagnosed with chronic unipolar depression, anxiety disorder, SAD and most recently ADD. (It was actually the picturing tasks in my head but not doing them that tipped off my doc to the ADD) When I was 16 I was a cutter and ended up spending two weeks in the hospital. The good thing that came out of that was finding the most wonderful doctor in the world. I am still with him 21 years later. I have a lot of scars from cutting, but I don't hide them. I actually wear them with pride. It's my proof to myself that I have conquered this once and can do it again.
That's one of the problems with mental illness is that there is no cure. You have to conquer it over and over again, and many times I have understood the desire to just get tired of it and end things. It's exhausting. But I know I was put on this earth for something, and I don't know what it is for sure, but I know I'm not done yet. This is a hard thing to remember in the darkest times though.
The other thing I wanted to talk about, and the reason for the post title, is that mental illness has no physical manifestation that can be witnessed by others. At least not unless they know what they're looking for. I can't call in to work and say that I can't get out of bed. The response would be "What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?" No, I literally can not bring myself to get out of bed. But you can't SEE why, and really when I'm that low I don't want to talk about it, so therefore I'm left to make something up. I have a cold, the flu, my son is sick, my car won't start, and it goes on and on. I have lied to co-workers about why I was gone, and I kept the lie going when I went back to work. "How's your son?" "Oh he's good, feeling much better." Because what would you say if I told you that I was so depressed I couldn't get out of bed, and I laid there and cried the entire day and had myself convinced that no one loves me and the world wouldn't miss me. Sometimes I just want to disappear. Not necessarily end my life (although that sometimes comes into play), but cease to exist. Let me just lie there. *crickets* How awkward would that be?
In a recent job I went in to talk to my bosses about my issues. I was at a really, really low point and they seemed genuinely concerned...until I told them I needed to go home for the day. Then there was skepticism and, dare I say, judgement. You're just sad, why do you need to go home? I imagine a lot of people with depression that have trouble controlling it get fired. Because they can't talk about it with their boss(es) and can't explain why they keep missing work. And if you have to change medication you might just be screwed. Usually it takes up to 4 weeks for a new medication to kick in.
I don't have a solution for this other than to talk about it. My husband and I have a code. I tell him I'm having a "bad day" and he knows exactly what I mean. And he will MAKE me talk to him. Have I mentioned I married a saint? He puts up with this and never complains. He knows exactly how to deal with me, even if he doesn't always think he's doing a good job.
I promise that not every post will be this dark and dreary. I actually have quite a good sense of humor, especially when it comes to being crazy. Happy Friday, everyone. Tomorrow is another day.
“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.”
–Eleanor Roosevelt
I love you!
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