Entry tags:
Talking about mental illness
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And, you know, there's all sorts of reasons I think it's very important to talk - and talk publicly - about mental illness. So: hi. I have chronic depression with anxiety; I've been depressed at least since I was thirteen. I strongly suspect I also have undiagnosed PTSD.
I started medication when I was 21, because I couldn't put it off any longer. I'd delayed seeking diagnosis for so long because of the stigma: both medically, in that it would have been even harder to get my chronic pain diagnosed if doctors could happily dismiss it as somatisation, and socially/academically. As it is, I took a year out of my undergraduate degree, and every time someone asks about it I have to decide between the bland and anodyne "for health reasons" and the braver - and more informative - "I went very, very mad".
Crazy is a thing I am. It's a thing I can't hide, even if I want to: ask me, maybe, about the times I've suddenly realised, walking through a supermarket or shopping centre, that I've been muttering out loud for several minutes. Or, well, ask me about the way it impacts on my work.
But: "crazy", being crazy, isn't the bad thing here, particularly: it's hard, some days or weeks or months, but I am medicated and I have people and I have a counsellor and mostly, for the time being, I'm alright.
The bad thing is the way people react to "crazy": the way that in trivialising it they trivialise me, or that in fearing it or despising it, it is me they fear or despise, or that in being visibly crazy in public I put myself in danger - and in more than one sense this is not something I can control.
Here's another thing: it feels very strange to say "I am depressed" when my medication and support network are currently keeping me functionally not-depressed [most of the time]. But: I have endometriosis even when I'm not in pain; I have endometriosis even when my painkillers, or my GnRH agonists, or whatever, are working. And I am aware - and sometimes it is painfully, desperately aware - that the only things between me and my illness are my daylight lamp and 30mg a day - forty in winter - of citalopram hydrobromide. Like
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And that? That is why I am going to keep on talking.
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The tags really aren't required reading, in any sense, but they're there if you're interested and want to know more. ♥ Some of the material contained in them is on the "I'm really fucking crazy right now" filter, which is opt-in so people who Just Don't Want To Know don't have to; it's incredibly low traffic (2 posts ever, I think? Both over 18 months ago?) but it's there if you want it.
Honestly part of what's weird about the whole thing is that in large part this... has been my normal. November 2011 was especially awful and is still something I'm edgy about, but - yeah. It... is very easy to look at it calmly, without horror, under glass, as I said.
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I understand that the tags aren't required reading, but I like getting to know people. So far I've only made it through Things I've Learned From Counselling, but I really enjoyed it--so much there I still need to learn myself.
If you don't mind adding me to the "I'm really fucking crazy right now" filter, I'd be delighted. Having said that, I may not have much to say about those entries. Sometimes things like that are so far from my experience that I don't really know what to say, but I think it is important to keep exposing myself to different experiences. Maybe if I do, I'll one day find the words, even if they're only "I see you & your struggles and I hope for the best for you."
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