When I decided to start this blog, I wanted to help people by sharing my stories, my struggles, and to put an end to my writers block. I also wanted to share with you my triumphs. Not only so you can delight in them with me, but also to inspire you that no matter how rocky the road there is always a proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Live, fight, survive, and thrive. That is my motto.
I have been in quarrel with myself for the past few days on if I should share the purpose of my sudden absence over the last two weeks. I want to hide it from the world, but I feel like I'm wearing a Scarlet Letter. Like a blemish that no amount of makeup can hide. I often feel ashamed of my mental illness, but I wasn't made to take things lying down. It's just not encoded in my DNA. So, why not use this as a platform for my soapbox? It is time to start a serious conversation on the taboo of mental illness. 2 out of 3 Americans struggle with it, that's a whopping statistic! It is a secret everybody keeps and no one talks about for fear of judgement, shaming, and rejection.
With that being said, my confession- I voluntarily committed myself to a behavioral health clinic (psych ward) in Greenville, NC. What lead me to my decision, was the realization that I was no good to my daughter as a parent with the state of mind I was in. I hang the moon in her eyes, and she deserves nothing less.
I was in such a downward spiral that performing daily tasks were a struggle for me. I hid my head beneath the covers or behind a screen for weeks. My motivation level was at 0%. I started having flashbacks of not only my sexual assault, but every negative obstacle I have ever faced in my life. I was having nightmares of losing those closest to me. The stress headaches were debilitating. My mood swings were verbally combative (not towards my child). My life was just a series of breathing in between panic attacks. The medication (Atavan) I was on wasn't working the miracles I thought it would, but suffering from multiple chemical imbalances requires more than one medication. I started having pretty bleak thoughts. Suicidal ideations with a plan is what my hospital chart read. I spent 5 days in the hospital being monitored around the clock while they assigned and adjusted medications to suit my specific needs. I attended group-type therapy sessions, and every staff member of the facility is trained in some form of counseling, so if I needed one-on-one time with someone, it was available 24/7. The outline of my conversations were then documented and submitted to my team of doctors. The help I received there is paramount and I am forever grateful to the entire staff of the clinic.
Before the Judging Judy's start forming their opinions, I want everyone to know that, as cliché as this sounds, It's okay to not be okay. It is okay to see your weaknesses and find help in fixing them. What's not okay, is that there is no conversation happening to resolve the stigma one faces with such a diagnosis. There is a lot of uneducated misinformed theories flying around about depression and mental health as a whole, and it's high time someone steps up and advocates for those of us with no voice. So, here I am stepping up to bat...
I hate that mental disorders have become a competition. You can't discuss eating disorders without someone saying how they survived on their multi-vitamin and chewing gum for 8 weeks. You can't discuss depression without someone describing their life in all it's articulate dark details and how they tried to commit suicide 7 times by the time they were 9. You can't discuss self-harm, because you punch your leg until it's purple while someone else slices their arm to the bone. You can't discuss addiction, because someone else has been facing their crack addiction for decades. There is such a lack of empathy in the close community that it is astounding. What is the end game of competing in mental illness? Further secluding yourself from people who should be learning from one another not one-uping each other to see who is the least stable. It's insanity, pun intended.
Then there is the outside scrutiny that we face from those who choose not to understand why our brains can't just simply work like they're supposed to. And it's not just our brains, our entire anatomy isn't in sync. They choose not to educate themselves, because they think that it's all in our heads and we should just "push through it".
For those of you who are still reading and haven't stammered away from my spectacle, I have compiled a comprehensive list of things I think people on this side of the fence wish you could understand:
# 1 WE AREN'T LAZY
Sometimes the weight of anxiety is so severe that performing even the smallest of daily functions feels like too much.
#2 WE ARE NOT ALWAYS CONFIDENT
There is almost a constant paranoia. We fear that we are always being judged. Having a mental illness can make you feel like you have a mark and that can create a lot of self-doubt.
#3 SOMETIMES WE ARE MORE STABLE, BUT WE ARE NOT CURED
There are days of stability for all of us, but it doesn't mean we're all better. Mental illness is chronic, it's not the flu, it doesn't just go away.
#4 WE HAVE BAD DAYS, EVEN WITH MEDS
Medication doesn't make us impervious to life. If something bad happens, we react, sometimes more deeply than others, and if we are in a bad mood, we're still going to be in a bad mood.
#5 IT HURTS WHEN YOU'RE ASHAMED OF OUR DIAGNOSIS
There is nothing more upsetting then to think that the people you love might be embarrassed by something you can't control.
#6 STOP SAYING, "IT COULD BE WORSE."
Thank you, Captain Obvious! We are well aware that it could always be worse, and for most of us, we draw thanks from that. You are making us feel selfish for dealing with a chronic illness.
#7 I KNOW WHO MY SUPPORT TEAM IS AND I LOVE YOU.
You guys are the real MVPs. Thank you for being there. Thank you for standing up for me when I couldn't do it for myself. Thank you for having the strength and courage to hold me up and being my shoulder to lean on. Thank you for lending an ear. Thank you for not sugar-coating the truth and giving me exactly what I needed to hear instead of what I wanted to hear. I don't know how I became blessed enough to have such a strong support team backing me, but I am forever in your debt. Thank you for being you.
I have been in quarrel with myself for the past few days on if I should share the purpose of my sudden absence over the last two weeks. I want to hide it from the world, but I feel like I'm wearing a Scarlet Letter. Like a blemish that no amount of makeup can hide. I often feel ashamed of my mental illness, but I wasn't made to take things lying down. It's just not encoded in my DNA. So, why not use this as a platform for my soapbox? It is time to start a serious conversation on the taboo of mental illness. 2 out of 3 Americans struggle with it, that's a whopping statistic! It is a secret everybody keeps and no one talks about for fear of judgement, shaming, and rejection.
With that being said, my confession- I voluntarily committed myself to a behavioral health clinic (psych ward) in Greenville, NC. What lead me to my decision, was the realization that I was no good to my daughter as a parent with the state of mind I was in. I hang the moon in her eyes, and she deserves nothing less.
I was in such a downward spiral that performing daily tasks were a struggle for me. I hid my head beneath the covers or behind a screen for weeks. My motivation level was at 0%. I started having flashbacks of not only my sexual assault, but every negative obstacle I have ever faced in my life. I was having nightmares of losing those closest to me. The stress headaches were debilitating. My mood swings were verbally combative (not towards my child). My life was just a series of breathing in between panic attacks. The medication (Atavan) I was on wasn't working the miracles I thought it would, but suffering from multiple chemical imbalances requires more than one medication. I started having pretty bleak thoughts. Suicidal ideations with a plan is what my hospital chart read. I spent 5 days in the hospital being monitored around the clock while they assigned and adjusted medications to suit my specific needs. I attended group-type therapy sessions, and every staff member of the facility is trained in some form of counseling, so if I needed one-on-one time with someone, it was available 24/7. The outline of my conversations were then documented and submitted to my team of doctors. The help I received there is paramount and I am forever grateful to the entire staff of the clinic.
Before the Judging Judy's start forming their opinions, I want everyone to know that, as cliché as this sounds, It's okay to not be okay. It is okay to see your weaknesses and find help in fixing them. What's not okay, is that there is no conversation happening to resolve the stigma one faces with such a diagnosis. There is a lot of uneducated misinformed theories flying around about depression and mental health as a whole, and it's high time someone steps up and advocates for those of us with no voice. So, here I am stepping up to bat...
I hate that mental disorders have become a competition. You can't discuss eating disorders without someone saying how they survived on their multi-vitamin and chewing gum for 8 weeks. You can't discuss depression without someone describing their life in all it's articulate dark details and how they tried to commit suicide 7 times by the time they were 9. You can't discuss self-harm, because you punch your leg until it's purple while someone else slices their arm to the bone. You can't discuss addiction, because someone else has been facing their crack addiction for decades. There is such a lack of empathy in the close community that it is astounding. What is the end game of competing in mental illness? Further secluding yourself from people who should be learning from one another not one-uping each other to see who is the least stable. It's insanity, pun intended.
Then there is the outside scrutiny that we face from those who choose not to understand why our brains can't just simply work like they're supposed to. And it's not just our brains, our entire anatomy isn't in sync. They choose not to educate themselves, because they think that it's all in our heads and we should just "push through it".
For those of you who are still reading and haven't stammered away from my spectacle, I have compiled a comprehensive list of things I think people on this side of the fence wish you could understand:
# 1 WE AREN'T LAZY
Sometimes the weight of anxiety is so severe that performing even the smallest of daily functions feels like too much.
#2 WE ARE NOT ALWAYS CONFIDENT
There is almost a constant paranoia. We fear that we are always being judged. Having a mental illness can make you feel like you have a mark and that can create a lot of self-doubt.
#3 SOMETIMES WE ARE MORE STABLE, BUT WE ARE NOT CURED
There are days of stability for all of us, but it doesn't mean we're all better. Mental illness is chronic, it's not the flu, it doesn't just go away.
#4 WE HAVE BAD DAYS, EVEN WITH MEDS
Medication doesn't make us impervious to life. If something bad happens, we react, sometimes more deeply than others, and if we are in a bad mood, we're still going to be in a bad mood.
#5 IT HURTS WHEN YOU'RE ASHAMED OF OUR DIAGNOSIS
There is nothing more upsetting then to think that the people you love might be embarrassed by something you can't control.
#6 STOP SAYING, "IT COULD BE WORSE."
Thank you, Captain Obvious! We are well aware that it could always be worse, and for most of us, we draw thanks from that. You are making us feel selfish for dealing with a chronic illness.
#7 I KNOW WHO MY SUPPORT TEAM IS AND I LOVE YOU.
You guys are the real MVPs. Thank you for being there. Thank you for standing up for me when I couldn't do it for myself. Thank you for having the strength and courage to hold me up and being my shoulder to lean on. Thank you for lending an ear. Thank you for not sugar-coating the truth and giving me exactly what I needed to hear instead of what I wanted to hear. I don't know how I became blessed enough to have such a strong support team backing me, but I am forever in your debt. Thank you for being you.
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