The last couple months parricularly.
My demons have been winning. I am fighting but desperately losing.
I’ve been stressing over reauthorization so the kid can get back into his therapy group.
Said kid has been, well let’s be honest, a complete arse at school so far.
It’s like he is taking this preteen angst, I don’t care about anything, ugh! My life sucks, I can do whatever the heck I want business and completely milking it for all its worth.
He has 80s movie teen angst down pat, let’s just say that.
He is barely even into this tweenagedom. What gives?!
I don’t know what to do. His teachee keeps asking for ideas but, really, I have none. Right now we are just along for the ride waiting for something to give. What can you do? Hold on and hope it doesn’t last long? Wait out the moment it is outgrown?
Are all tweenagers like this? Maybe just not as extreme?
We’re learning as we go. Blatantly failing but learning.
And just hoping we all come out unscathed.
All the while, I am trying not to drown in darkness.
‘Tis my life though
I took a shower today.
That statement may not seem like much to someone who doesn’t battle mental illness, but for me it’s pretty big.
I sat on my bed for two hours trying to will myself to just take a shower. Trying to muster up enough energy to gather my clothes and walk to the bathroom.
Now, I’m exhausted again.
Exhausted from the constant battle that has been raging in my head and overtaking me for the last couple of months.
Now, I have fought with mental illness for as long as I can remember, but these past few months have been hard.
I’m not exactly sure qhat triggered it initally but I’ve been living in a constant loop of all my past unresolved trauma.
I have tried, recently, to talk about it. I have finally started to share my story but in doing so, I’ve been looping and reliving every incident.
It has been taking every thing I have to just barely stay afloat. Every time I feel like I may reach solid ground and find my footing I am pulled out further into the deepness.
I am tired. I am drained. I am utterly exhausted.
I have to fight my head everyday to get up. I have people who are counting on me and I can’t even count on myself.
I don’t want to talk anymore… I just want to escape.
I’ve been teetering on the edge of that deep dark pit. I’ve felt it for weeks. My anxiety has been at an all time high. I’ve been struggling to not fall in. It is taking everything I have to just get by. I am going through the motions on auto-pilot. It’s a constant cycle. Just when things seem to shine with light I’m hit with that darkness.
Reading about another high profile suicide hasn’t helped. I am heartbroken. Again, it hits way too close to home.
I’m not actively suicidal at the moment, but I’ve been there. I’ve fought with those thoughts and feelings. I’ve faced those demons. I’ve struggled with the desire to just have the pain end. To be able to finally find some peace.
It’s still hard to shake that feeling of loneliness. That’s what depression does. It lies to you. It tells you that you are alone even when you are surrounded. It tells you that you don’t deserve the people who care about you. Or that the people you care about would be better off without you.
Yet, here I am, wearing my all too familiar mask. Playing out the act I perfected as a child. The one that tells the world I am ok. The one that tells the world I have it all together. The fake smile, the fake laughs, the fake happiness.
This part of the cycle is always hard. I am lucky to have a fairly good support system at home. He helps me through the struggle. He pushes me to keep fighting every time. He forces me to keep my balance on this edge without letting me fall too far in.
I will be ok again. I will continue to fight my demons as long as I can.
We need to be more open about mental illness. Not be afraid of our struggles. It’s okay to not be okay.
If you are struggling, please, open up. Ask for help. Talk to someone. Talk to me.
This is a safe place.
“Dare to reach out your hand into darkness, to pull another hand into light.” – Norman B. Rice
I have to give him a shout out.
He’s been here for me through the ups and downs and the highs and lows.
He reads the articles I send him that describe my mental illness more fluidly than I ever could. He is willing to learn everything he can to be better for me when I need him.
Even though I usually don’t openly come to him. I tend to take my emotional pain and struggle out on him. I internalize.
Still, he is there. He recognizes. He bugs me until I open up even just a little.
Yesterday I wasn’t feeling well. I wasn’t sick but I’m still learning what foods I can handle since my gallbladder removal and the food I ate the day before was not one of them. Well, I was not eating. I was acting uninterested in eating and I was being kind of mopey.
He offered me food. He offered to make or go to town to get me food. He offered to share his food. I refused. He became concerned. He asked if I was feeling down and depressed and maybe that was why I was feeling funky.
I cleared it up that it was just tummy troubles and everything was well currently. He still set me up in bed to relax and binge watch my show and not be bothered, just in case.
I really don’t give this man enough credit.