Some Mental Health Thoughts
I don’t normally post too much on here, but right now, I can’t think of where else to post it. Dealing with a lot of shit and am in a bad place. Isn’t the first time, won’t be the last. I’m not going to let it be the last. But currently am being judged a hell of a lot for it in my real life. So for all of the “Your depression isn’t real”, “You just need to deal with reality”, and “It’s a cry for attention”, let me give you a crash course on the inside of my brain. Age 3 - I could read and write. Started adding “or else” to requests sometimes. Some of this might have been a cry for attention or wanting to get my own way. But at 3 - the fact I had the sense there was an or else.
Age 5- Started to hyperventilate very badly when upset. Had people telling me to calm down, that I was making myself sick on purpose. I’m sure there were tantrums in there. But when I have 3 in an hour, when everyone in my family is upset and shouting too -Â
Age 6 - First visit to the school psychologist. Ended up in gifted, got told with dealing with bullies to ignore it and comments about having poor coping skills. I was 6.
Age 8 - Bullying at the point wanted to disappear. Reading both made things better and worse- was something that got me targeted, but got me out of my own head. Regularly would talk to imaginary friends, write, read to deal with a day. Sometimes it was name calling or comments or gossip. And pushing the class klutz isn’t so noticeable. I mean, she trips over her own feet anyhow. Age 10 - First time thought out a full attempt. Note, idealogy, plan - it wasn’t a great plan but a plan. Went to an actual psychologist. School wanted put on meds if was depressed. Psychologist was worried because this was when they were first starting to find out about suicide risks with some of the meds. Because was under 18, get a diagnosis of not depression, but did receive therapy. Developed more coping skills. Everyone treated it like it went away. Had to say my attempt was for attention to avoid being hospitalized with a lot of threats from family. Was called selfish, was told this was selfish.
Middle school/High school - Still needed occasional help with bullying. Thoughts still in my head, but learning to keep them to myself. I have a brief bout with self harm, that I tell no one about. I still use reading and writing to escape. I have a small group of friends, but that helps. I try to use what I feel to fuel what helps me, and still get told to ignore bullies. Like the kid that pushed me into a teacher in the hall. Or the people who made me feel so out of place I didn’t eat lunch for a week. I’m in clubs, I do activities, my grades stay up. I’m just broken inside.
College - I still have issues, but talking with friends having groups, having people I can talk to, having classes on psychology help me develop even more ways of dealing with my depression. I learn about therapeutic communication and start talking about it here and there. I get told I talk weird, and when I use “I” statements, that the only person I think about is myself. Only one attempt during this time. Start thinking I’m cured. After college - You think this is better? Oh no. I get a job. It isn’t enough. I am trying to help out family as well. It isn’t enough. I try to take care of myself. It isn’t enough. Pretty soon, any time I get stressed or upset, there is a little voice in my head - and yes, I hear it sometimes. I know things are getting worse again. I go to doctors for help. I get told if I am suicidal, I need to be hospitalized. I can’t afford it. So I lie. I go to a therapist. For three trips. Then, it costs too much. I seek help - but know if I get help or get committed, I lose my job and could lose my ability to work in the field I’m in. I am dealing with constant posts about it being an excuse. Someone mentions student loans can be forgiven upon someone’s death. I go to work and have to fight not to just drive off the road. My brother mocks me for not liking guns. I am dealing with an abusive situation and told “It’s not that bad, you’re just too sensitive.” My doctor worries about meds with me - I am not a good candidate for them - but if I am not on meds, no one believes something is wrong. I take an assessment for mental health risks as part of a work seminar. My numbers are 3 times the factor that they say should be high risk for the kids I am working with. People still think that it is a lie. Where I’m at now - I can act normal, right up until I can’t. I am grieving, but can’t cry because I am struggling to not be exhausted, and numb, and feel. But when I feel, it is this lonely pit. My friends reach out, but then I have people telling me what my brain already does to cut people off. I can’t afford help. I am dealing with a lot of changes, and told that I should be coping better, that this is what real life is like. I just want it to stop, to feel peace. To feel better. I don’t react or look like I have depression, so I have been told, again, it’s a cry for attention. It wasn’t until yesterday I told someone I trusted I was suicidal again. They talked to me and found me a number of someone to talk to. I am trying to do that. I am typing this reading posts about suicide being the ultimate act of selfishness. I am reading how anyone who is looking for help - financial, mental, they don’t seem to care which - just needs to grow up and haul themselves up by their bootstraps. I am reading how, as I am seeking help, that they are tired of people who can’t deal with reality. I wonder if hospitalization is an option, but then I remember, I can’t afford it. And it will risk my job. And part of me is fighting to not just give up. Part of me just wants it all to stop. My arms and legs hurt. I am fighting to not startle at movements because my ears can start ringing. Showering is hard. If I do start eating, it is hard to stop, but skipping meals is normal too. I don’t remember the last normal night of sleep I had. I either can’t sleep because my head is racing with thoughts, or I am exhausted from my head racing and don’t want to get out of bed. I am always cold. I know I am feeling things, but anger and irritation are what come out, or numb. I can be happy for a couple minutes, but it goes away. And the urge to just make everything stop can hit me from being good and joking to pulling over so I don’t wreck my car in 5 minutes or less and sobbing through a panic attack. I feel alone walking in a group of people. I feel invisible talking with family. So, I can’t deal with reality? This is an excuse? I am dealing with this while working, while paying bills. I am dealing with this through losing family. I am dealing with this through the phone calls and parties and conversations with people who want to help but are not okay with me not mentally being okay. I have been dealing with this while going to church. I have been dealing with this with fixing flat tires and grocery shopping. This is a part of my daily life. That I go numb easily, get suicidal ideation easily, can explain and talk through it actually coherently, that I know skills and am sometimes feeling too exhausted to use them - that is what my depression looks like. That I work well with therapy, and know that one day, while I might need meds, I really need to talk to my doctor and others to figure out what works, and hope that it gets covered so I can take them? That I feel like I am in a Catch -22 with hospitalization and work and the potential of an involuntary commit - which has been used as a threat against me? That is what my depression looks like. So I am in a bad place. It won’t be the first. I am not going to let it be the last. I am talking to my friend again. I am calling the number she gave me. But even when I am doing better, there is still all of this inside my head.
