I often write about my struggle with mental health shortcomings. It's a big part of what I deal with on a daily basis. Some days it's the only thing I deal with - like today.
I spent an hour talking to a friend today who knows the realities of depression and anxiety. She's found an answer for her issues, but as we shared, it was clear, I hadn't found the answer to my own. She spoke to me in care and concern... and we shared. It's not often that I open myself to talking about where I am in my own mind, but she's a safe place I can rely on. She knows where I am, because she's been there too. I don't know fully if my own mom has been as low as I've been, but I rarely scratch at the surface of where my mother is, because I know she deals with enough on her own. She has other health issues that have taken the front seat of her worry. I can't press her with my own troubles anymore. She's older, and dealing with what I hear (in the midst of her words) are her "end of life" issues that she's facing. This reality in and of itself is something I can't face in the place I'm at right now. Losing my mother would be the death of me. Know that.
Mental issues are like feathers to me. A bird has several types and layers of feathers that cover their bodies. Some are fluffy and soft... some are corse and dense. They have layers of coverings that keep the weather from being an issue to their small bodies. It's the same with me. I have layers of mental health that cover me. I have soft fluffy parts, and course dense parts as well. I don't deal well with the dense parts, and often cry when the fluffy parts are laid bear. I don't show my fluffy parts to many people... but there are those, like today, who see them no matter how hard I try to hide them. Being with someone who knows your struggles makes it hard to hide your inner turmoil. I cried quite a bit today with my friend. My friend, by the way, who is facing a second bout with breast cancer, and a double mastectomy next week. It would seem to the normal mind that that person isn't who you need to bear your soul to, but she had other plans. She asked. I cried. She knew.
I sometimes believe that these blog posts will serve others after I'm gone... to show the world that mental illness is a bigger reality than is publicly realized, or commonly known. It's true, we hide it when we can. It's a sad thing to us who go each day, facing a new challenge of finding peace and trying to feel normal.
My reality includes drinking alcohol on a regular basis. It calms the mind and keeps the bad thoughts at bay at times. I know it's bad, and that it isn't helping me in the long term... but it helps me in the now. I know I have an addictive personality, and that drinking is a bad idea for me... but there are moments when I just want it all to end. I want to leave this ugly world, and move on to the blessings of my heavenly promise. I can imagine, with the people who read this, that it's a known reality that this world is too broken and depraved to bring joy in a lot of people. I try... you can't imagine how hard I try. It's exhausting. It's a daily battle. I'm so tired of the battle... it's beyond words for me right now.
There is so much inside my words, I can't expect people to know the real depth of my struggle. It helps for me to write it down... to get it off my chest and out into the unknown. Maybe these words will help someone I don't even know. Right now I don't care... I can't care. Life is too much.
I know friends who have lost people to suicide, and I feel so sorry for them. They don't fully understand where we are as mentally ill people. They can't. No one knows you except you. No matter how much help you get - and believe me, I've gotten a lot of help... you can't realize the pain and struggle if you're not inside my head. Yes suicide is very selfish, but there are points in our reality where we can't see a way out. We fight so hard... but it's as if life just squeezes the life out of us. Sadness. Confusion. Anxiety. Worry. Self loathing. It doesn't end... It. Never. Ends. Morning, noon and night... it's a constant struggle. You can't imagine how hard some days get. You should praise your God in keeping you from this terrible life.
I know my God wants the best for me. He wants to prosper me, and not to harm me. He wants to bless me. He would never put anything on me that I can't handle with His help. I realize this, but words are so easy to say. Feelings are so hard to overcome. You just don't know if you're not who we are. I don't want to short sight the deaf or blind, but it's like a broken part of us that we can't overcome. I can't find my way beyond it. There's no help that works for me. 25 years now... it's endless and so very exhausting.
Please keep us in prayer. Mental health is a struggle that's real, and often avoided by modern medical experts. It's a trial and error issue where medicines are tried, only to be realized as a detriment or not a help. We continue on, month after month... year after year. We hope to find the answers, but some of us never do. My friend today has found her answer in a medicine that wasn't right for me. It's a daily struggle.
Thank you for prayer.
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