I’ve harvested each moment of productivity, competency, happiness, worthiness; though my hands are weak I squeeze what nectar I can to sip on for the immediate days while I still scavenge on the way. That is me taking it day by day.
I think I’m feeling better now that I’m weaned off the medication that was affecting me terribly.
Struggling through mental illness has me treading through dread; dreading responsibilities, social interactions, guilt, fear of failure, everyday life. Sometimes it’s a slow trudge, other times I can cut through as easily as a ceramic knife through an orange.
How far are you from the darkest pit no light has illuminated? Far enough that you don’t see it, only have heard of it? See it in the distance, only as a depression where the earth slumps? Is it before you, a temptation? Before you, a rash daredevil move? Only a place you visit as a reflection pool, reflecting the closest representation of your bottom? Do you sit at it’s lip only waiting for the right time? I hope you don’t give in to whatever pull you may experience or seek its relief or try to fall into it to have it envelope you or quickly decide to jump. I hope you can find reasons or if not, scrounge up enough crumbs to keep you going until you have to again. If you can’t, I have no fault with you. I don’t blame you. But I do need to keep my separation.
Think of that feeling you might traditionally get during the holidays: appreciation, gratitude, etc. It’s not that you don’t feel that all year round, but during this time you feel it clearly, wholly, front & center.
I have a similar thing happen with escaping depression & regaining feeling. By feeling I mean the return of passion, energy, vigor for life… clarity.
Before going into the hospital I had talked to someone about wanting to have a break, to host get a pause, to not have responsibilities. She said it’d be nice to be able to just be in the hospital, not for anything fatal, for a while. I agreed and it was something I had thought before too.
But that did happen to me very shortly after that. Not because she said that. That was pure coincidence. And a bizarre coincidence. And it didn’t help. It wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t a relief. It wasn’t much of a respite. It was one of the pauses where you’re hiding in the forest before you have to come out and start running for your life again. After getting out of the hospital I went to Austin and it was a continuation of that.
I used to have a feeling that I was going to die soon or something so terrible was going to happen that I was basically going to die/lose my mind. I don’t know when that transitioned to me feeling like I survived past my expiration date, that I’m not supposed to still be living. It sounds like I’m suicidal, and honestly I do think of death often as an escape but not something I would ever actually do.
I just want “it” to stop.
It: feeling of doom, feeling so tired, struggling with every day, disinterest, disconnect, crave for attention, lack of motivation. The physical parts: nausea, episodes, fatigue, distracted.
For those who feel cured after taking medication after however long, for mental illness,
then you stop taking it
are you cured?
Or do you go back and forth until you think it has stuck?
Do you ever consider that a fantasy, a hope?
My medication isn’t my white flag I waive daily
They are the life-saving pills I take daily to not be
starved of attention
picking incessantly at my face
overflowing with guilt
lacking monetary sense/spending copiously
Of course I would love for all of the to go away! In a point of my life, it did. When I was pregnant with my daughter it went away and when she was almost 3yo, it came back even worse than it was before.
Is medication not something that manages mental illness? Like how meds manage diseases? Those diseases don’t get cured but they can get managed.
Tell me how does one control what can’t be controlled? Deal with the unknown?
Does to “get by on your own” mean to scrape by like how I could go from paycheck to paycheck, barely getting by?
Does it have to do with pride? Does it make you feel less of a person?
My version of “letting myself go” so far is increasing my vape liquid from 3mg nicotine to 12mg nicotine, considering smoking capri ultra light menthols (if those exist… my mom smokes capri ultra lights… they are coffee straws) on the sly, & not wearing makeup more often. Besides blogging this tell-all drama of my life.