Not gatekeeping mental illness here, but I'm genuinely astonished every time I'm reminded that there really are people who had their first encounter with depression and mental illness as grown-ass adults?? Like I'm not trying to diminish their experiences, that has to be terrifying, like you've already set your life up the way you like it, you've got things in your life that you enjoy, and then it just suddenly fizzles out? Like you're used to the sun rising every morning and then one day it just doesn't rise anymore, and it's still dark at 10 am for three months straight and you don't understand why, you've never seen that before, and nobody knows what you're talking about, because they've never seen that either and they're still not seeing it now? Yeah no shit that sounds awful.
Nonetheless I still get that "damn y'all live like this?" every time I hear someone share their First Adult Depression Experiences. Like damn, you weren't seven years old telling your mother that you would rather want to die than have to go to school, and have her go "everyone does, sweetie. I don't want to go to work either! :) Life just is like that, that's why christians talk about heaven, they daydream that things will be better once you're dead and don't have to go to work anymore" and you're like "oh ok so we're just supposed to live like this" and keep walking through ankle-deep snow slush.
My parents thought I was autistic because I didn't bother to complain to them about things causing physical pain. One time they didn't notice for months that my shoes were bad before mom noticed all my socks have blood stains on the heels. It hadn't occurred to me that I could verbally communicate that something is hurting me, and receive help as a direct consequence. How was I supposed to know when life is and isn't supposed to hurt?
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
blakekathryn
dededos
prguitarman
