I love living in Wisconsin, I really do. My family is here, my husband's family is here, and I find that when we get to the end of one season, I am ready for the next. That is, except for winter. I was really disappointed not to have a white Christmas this year. In addition, and although I sound like a broken record, I dread winter. It is gray and lifeless and it sucks the life out of me.
Many people I know deal with SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). A lot of these people don't have other mental illness, but just simply get down during the winter months. For me, SAD goes beyond what any medication can help me with and I often have to just deal with it. This past week I saw many pictures and videos of people in tropical climates for their spring break. I can not even describe to you the longing I had to be in those places. And, as happens every year, I started wondering why we don't move. We had planned to at one point but it didn't work out, why don't we do it? If I really want to be healthy for good, this is what I need.
But here's the truth: there is no guarantee that moving would make me 100% healthy. And even if the sun did me good, what would being away from family and friends do? The truth is, there are no guarantees in life or in mental illness. We have to work hard to make the best of what we have. You all know there are days when I want to stay in bed all day. There are days in which I don't want to exist. (In case you haven't read my previous explanation of this, it is not a want to die, but a want to not be a part of the world or the people around me and remain in my own bubble.) There are days, like today, when I feel like doing nothing but am simultaneously bored and anxious out of my mind.
Does everyone remember yesterday in Wisconsin? That was pure hell for someone like me. I literally went from happy to unhappy in a matter of minutes. Snow, sun, rain, snow, sun, snow...UGH! It's exhausting! I think that's one big thing people don't understand about mental illness. It.is.exhausting. Our minds our so busy all the time that we are constantly alert. It's like going on a long road trip. You've been sitting for 8 hours, but you've had to remain so alert that when you get home you're unbelievably tired. The other night I woke up in a panic about my students not being ready for their concert on May 2. Another night I woke up with the same fear about our musical. Some nights I wake up panicking about something I said to someone that they probably don't even remember. Hmmm, why don't I sleep well? :-)
But here I am, making the best of what I have while I can. I'm not perfect. I make mistakes, and I certainly have days that are better than others. Despite the weather and the earlier anxiety, today is a good day. I will sit and enjoy it while I can.
Peace and love,
Jenn
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Monday, March 7, 2016
Bernie Sanders didn't offend me
Let me first say that I am completely unsure of which candidate I will vote for in the upcoming election. I know it will not be Trump, but other than that, I don't know, and won't talk about it when I do know.
Also, I will reiterate that one of the reasons for this blog is to help get rid of the stigma surrounding mental health. But that does not mean that every time someone makes a joke about mental illness, I will get offended. It depends on the joke, and it depends on the intent. Bernie Sanders talked about investing in mental health. Then he said that the Republicans need it. First of all, in the case of Trump, he's absolutely right. Secondly, are you seriously going to spend that much effort chastising him for the comment? Do you really think his thought was "Oh, I don't take mental health seriously and so I'm going to make fun of it."? No, his purpose was to insult the Republicans; many of whom could give a rat's patootie about mental illness.
Yes, there is a stigma around mental illness, but by getting all up in arms about one comment, you are not helping that stigma. One of the most important things I have learned in dealing with this is to laugh at myself and to not take everything so seriously. If you can't do that, and you go looking for comments to get angry at, then you're no better than the people making the comment. Instead, go out and spread the truth about mental illness and how possible it is to live life with it, rather than be disabled by it. And for the love of God, quit using the word ableism. You have used it so many times it's like you're trying to convince us that you know the word. That's great, nice vocabulary. Not stop it because you sound like a pretentious boob.
Also, I will reiterate that one of the reasons for this blog is to help get rid of the stigma surrounding mental health. But that does not mean that every time someone makes a joke about mental illness, I will get offended. It depends on the joke, and it depends on the intent. Bernie Sanders talked about investing in mental health. Then he said that the Republicans need it. First of all, in the case of Trump, he's absolutely right. Secondly, are you seriously going to spend that much effort chastising him for the comment? Do you really think his thought was "Oh, I don't take mental health seriously and so I'm going to make fun of it."? No, his purpose was to insult the Republicans; many of whom could give a rat's patootie about mental illness.
Yes, there is a stigma around mental illness, but by getting all up in arms about one comment, you are not helping that stigma. One of the most important things I have learned in dealing with this is to laugh at myself and to not take everything so seriously. If you can't do that, and you go looking for comments to get angry at, then you're no better than the people making the comment. Instead, go out and spread the truth about mental illness and how possible it is to live life with it, rather than be disabled by it. And for the love of God, quit using the word ableism. You have used it so many times it's like you're trying to convince us that you know the word. That's great, nice vocabulary. Not stop it because you sound like a pretentious boob.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Hypocrite
I am a hypocrite. I started this blog with two intentions in mind: 1. to let people into my world of mental illness. To let people see the day-to-day life of someone living with a mental illness and experience the uncomfortable. 2. To be a small part of eliminating the stigma that comes with mental illness. To talk about it, as it is not talked about. To make people realize that, as you wouldn't balk at the symptoms of someone with any other disease, a person with a mental illness should be able to be honest about their symptoms without people thinking it's fake, or for attention or that they could really just get better if they wanted to.
So why am I a hypocrite? Well the last time I posted was in January of 2015. The last time I posted about mental illness was even before that. I also only seem to post during times in which I am experiencing severe symptoms. It's not that I think you all want to hear about every aspect of every day of my life, especially when nothing extraordinary has happened. But it might be good for me to prove that people with mental illness can live very normal lives. It's been a pretty good year, which is why my last post was so long ago. People need to see that it is possible to lead a perfectly normal life, even though there are times you're not sure you want that life to continue.
As you may have guessed, this has not been a great day for me. It actually hasn't been a great month. If you've read any of my other posts, you know that winter is terrible for me. If there wasn't an Elijah and Jon hadn't gotten sick, we would have moved south long ago. Winter seems to go beyond any medication I'm on. This winter, thankfully, has been fairly mild. I've only had a couple of really bad days, and just a couple of weeks in which "daily life" was difficult for me.
One of those really bad days was today, and here is where I am really a hypocrite. I spent the day covering up how I was feeling. I knew when I woke up today that it wasn't a good day. But Jon and Elijah were introduced as members of the church today, so it was important to be there. There wasn't a lot of talking involved on my part, so I could handle that. When we got home, I went to my room and laid in bed until I had choir rehearsal. I considered not going to choir, but I knew I needed to go. On the way there, I tried to think of lies about why I was upset, just in case I suddenly burst into tears or just couldn't muster a smile for someone. I thought of how best to put on a happy face. Basically, I was planning about how to lie to people because I couldn't possibly tell them how I actually was, and I certainly didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. So I'm sorry if you're reading this and I lied to you tonight and told you I was fine, or all right, or something of the sort. I'm sorry if you bought my "happy face". I even laughed at times. But I'm not fine. I'm not all right. I'm not happy. I had a bad day. I fell apart. I struggled with symptoms of a disease that I have lived with for 25 years and will live with the rest of my life. I was numb, I was sad, I was angry, I was hopeless, not all at once all the time, but all within 12 hours. But I made it. It's the end of the day, and I will wake up tomorrow and get through that as well, and hopefully feel better than I did today. So no, I'm not all right. I'm not ok. I'm not happy...but I will be.
Coincidentally, I heard this song for the first time tonight. While it was written for sexual assault victims, and I wish to take nothing away from that, I think we all feel like this sometimes. And tonight this resonated with me.
Til It Happens to You
So why am I a hypocrite? Well the last time I posted was in January of 2015. The last time I posted about mental illness was even before that. I also only seem to post during times in which I am experiencing severe symptoms. It's not that I think you all want to hear about every aspect of every day of my life, especially when nothing extraordinary has happened. But it might be good for me to prove that people with mental illness can live very normal lives. It's been a pretty good year, which is why my last post was so long ago. People need to see that it is possible to lead a perfectly normal life, even though there are times you're not sure you want that life to continue.
As you may have guessed, this has not been a great day for me. It actually hasn't been a great month. If you've read any of my other posts, you know that winter is terrible for me. If there wasn't an Elijah and Jon hadn't gotten sick, we would have moved south long ago. Winter seems to go beyond any medication I'm on. This winter, thankfully, has been fairly mild. I've only had a couple of really bad days, and just a couple of weeks in which "daily life" was difficult for me.
One of those really bad days was today, and here is where I am really a hypocrite. I spent the day covering up how I was feeling. I knew when I woke up today that it wasn't a good day. But Jon and Elijah were introduced as members of the church today, so it was important to be there. There wasn't a lot of talking involved on my part, so I could handle that. When we got home, I went to my room and laid in bed until I had choir rehearsal. I considered not going to choir, but I knew I needed to go. On the way there, I tried to think of lies about why I was upset, just in case I suddenly burst into tears or just couldn't muster a smile for someone. I thought of how best to put on a happy face. Basically, I was planning about how to lie to people because I couldn't possibly tell them how I actually was, and I certainly didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. So I'm sorry if you're reading this and I lied to you tonight and told you I was fine, or all right, or something of the sort. I'm sorry if you bought my "happy face". I even laughed at times. But I'm not fine. I'm not all right. I'm not happy. I had a bad day. I fell apart. I struggled with symptoms of a disease that I have lived with for 25 years and will live with the rest of my life. I was numb, I was sad, I was angry, I was hopeless, not all at once all the time, but all within 12 hours. But I made it. It's the end of the day, and I will wake up tomorrow and get through that as well, and hopefully feel better than I did today. So no, I'm not all right. I'm not ok. I'm not happy...but I will be.
Coincidentally, I heard this song for the first time tonight. While it was written for sexual assault victims, and I wish to take nothing away from that, I think we all feel like this sometimes. And tonight this resonated with me.
Til It Happens to You
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