I've never been shy about talking about my struggle with mental illness. It's been such a huge part of my entire life, that ignoring it, or pretending it doesn't exist seems wrong. Almost like, I don't know who I am without it. Since I was 6 years old, I have struggled with feelings that I have never quite understood. Even after medication, education, and so much therapy I can't even remember all of my therapists names, I still don't really understand anything about this. Why I am the way I am, why I do the things I do, or say the things I say. I just don't get it.
I didn't have a name or a "label" for my thoughts and feelings until I was 12 and I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and her best friend depression. Up until that time, I just thought I was dramatic, or emotional, or moody. You know, the labels they give most teenage girls. I was dramatic, I was emotional, and I was certainly moody, but I was also sad. I was so sad that I sometimes couldn't get out of bed. I was also scared, so scared that walking down the hall at school with people looking at me, made my skin tingle and made me want to run and never return. I like to think I had supportive parents, but as supportive as they were, they didn't understand what was happening to me anymore than I did. And at that age, it's easy to blame it on hormones and ignore it as best you can. It wasn't until a very long weekend that involved me not physically being able to leave bed, and a very scary breakdown, that my parents knew they couldn't ignore it any longer.
Since that weekend, my thoughts and feelings have had a name, but that didn't make it any easier for myself or anyone in my life to really know how to help me, or even how to support me. I think that's really a common theme for people with any mental health issues. No matter how much the people in your life love you, they (mostly) don't really know how to support you. I remember some people in my life insisting to me that "people create their own depression" and tell me I just needed to "be happy" or "cheer up" Let me just clear this up right now. Saying those things to someone who is struggling with depression....pretty much the worst things you can say. Depression is an actual chemical imbalance in the brain, so we can't just cheer up. And blaming someone for their depression, well, I shouldn't have to point out how douchey that is. I had people in my life go behind my back and tell others that I attempted suicide "to get attention" That's a hell of a way to get attention. Mental illness isolates you, makes you feel different, and alone. It's hard to maintain friendships because sometimes you fall off the face of the Earth while you go through the cycles that depression puts you through. It's hard to maintain friendships because loving someone with a mental illness is fucking hard. I'll be the first to admit that.
My husband and I have been together for 14 years. And some days, we still struggle because of my anxiety and depression. I'm hotheaded, I'm irrational, and I have no impulse control. My husband is calm, laid back, and so level headed. On a bad day, it takes very little to set me off, and unfortunately, he is most often the recipient of my worst moods. He is amazing at not engaging, removing himself from the situation, and waiting until I am calm and myself once again before we talk. It always surprises me that he's able to just walk away. I have never been able to do that, I try my best to stay calm and rational, but my anger always gets the best of me. My anger is a new symptom. When I was younger, I carried around a black cloud of sadness every where I went. I was the depressed person that you picture when you hear the word depression. Sad, and hopeless. After I had my first son, I developed OCD, and anger as a new symptom of my depression. I have never considered myself to be an angry person, so this was new for me....and my husband.
I have been lucky enough in my life to have pretty amazing people in my corner, those who have experienced mental health issues, and those who haven't. And they've never turned their back on me, even at my worst. When you suffer from anxiety especially, there are so many limitations in your everyday life. I have a list about a mile long of things that I simply cannot do. But, I have people in my life who know what I'm dealing with, so they have found so many ways to support me in that respect. Like, my mom knows I have trouble talking on the phone, so, when possible (ordering food, cancelling appointments, etc) she does it for me, no questions asked. My husband knows I have major anxiety about driving downtown, so, if the need arises for me to go downtown, and he's not working, he drives me without batting an eye. My best friends know I have issues with confrontation, so in those situations they always have my back, and help me say what needs to be said, whether it's online or in person.
I know I write about my struggles with mental illness a lot. Every time I write one of these I think to myself "am I being annoying? Does anyone really care?" And honestly, I probably am being annoying, and I'm sure a ton of people don't care. But, writing is therapeutic to me, it helps me work through my feelings. And hopefully, the people who need to read this, will. Maybe it will make them feel just a little better, too. Anxiety and depression looks so different from person to person. And it's hard to understand, even if you're going through it. There are nights when I am able to write, or take deep breaths, centre myself, and just calm down and get through it. Then there are other night when I drink too much, and lose myself in memes, and internalize everything. Probably not quite as healthy as the first option, but what can I say? Sometimes I have unhealthy coping mechanisms. But, I do know one thing for sure. I have some people in my life that will drop everything they're doing, to listen to me, and talk to me, and help me in whatever way I need them to. And, that's the most important thing.
