It’s strange at this point in my life, I thought I’d be someone different, I thought I’d be something different. I could talk about potential or losing my twenties to mental illness and the neglect of that mental illness, I’m great to be on your team, but ask me to take my own medicine and it will almost always bite you in the ass. I could talk about the process of my first day, group, medication education, “music” therapy, lunch, group, meditation. Structure. I think all of those things are important, but I’m in the mood to lift myself up a little bit. This is hard. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. This is the sickest I’ve ever been, in a very different way than I’ve ever been sick.
So yeah, it’s serious. Serious enough that I feel like this outlet is something I need even though it makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. Especially with the occasional deafening silence my dear readers. Don’t worry, you’re not getting the dirty details, those are mine and mine only.
I can now say that I’m doing everything in my power to get myself better, or at least better enough to start functioning normally in society, because despite the convincing face I am not. I feel empowered by this, that I’ve finally taken control and taken responsibility I never want to feel this way again. Every other time I’ve been to treatment I went in with a chip on my shoulder, now I will try anything. I’m more open minded, I’m quicker to anger, but I’m more open minded to treatment.
I may not be the someone that I thought I was going to be, but I am becoming something better. I am determined to go back to making more work because I crave it. The reason I am doing this terrifying, statistically not even close to a permanent fix, exhausting thing is because I can’t stand not to make and show my work.
Of course there are other more complicated reasons for needing to get well. My friends and family for example, as it is not their job to hold me up always. Of course there are goals, like being able to stand up for myself in a situation which feels unsafe and uncomfortable. The work though, that’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I can shovel through the pain easily, It’s different but I’ve done this before, I’m ready for the pain, the healing pain. The reward is the work.
I will keep saying the words until they are ingrained in my heart. I deserve to get better. I deserve to live a relatively pain free life.
These posts might be like this for a while, if it’s not your thing I understand.
reach out to your friends
normalize mental illness
normalize its treatment
love each other