You find yourself back home. From a low stress environment. You try to hold onto the lessons you were taught by the groups and therapists while you were inpatient. And it slowly becomes gobbely gook. A hodge podge of words you find hard to attach to ‘reality’. The outside world.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to cope with the every day. Where people take pleasure in causing you stress and pain. Where words hurt you more than sticks and stones. And there are REAL MONSTERS walking the streets in their masks with evil thoughts.
There are times I wish they still institutionalized us, put us away on some plot of land and protected us from them and them from us. But there were still monsters behind those doors. Are we safe nowhere?
I didn’t ask for Mental Illness, I just live with it, not in it, with it.
I am trying, I really am and I just hope I don’t break again. I’m realizing “THERE’S ALWAYS SOMETHING”. It’s unending. Down the road, around the corner. There will always be some type of stressor, waiting and pouncing.
It doesn’t matter how good a person you are or how many godly deeds you do a day. They still wait, they still strike. But its all in how you ‘react’. How you process and overcome.
I’m working on that, letting things lay where they will if I can not influence them. Because I have no control over the world. Who really wants to rule the world, such a mess.
So I pray, and hope and fight when need be, but not in vain. I stand up for myself and let my voice be heard. I spread the word.
Stop STIGMA. I think that’s why we get triage mental health units. Pump you full of drugs, set you up with clinics and kick you out. No groups, no peace, as stressful as the real world. Just full of more pills. Shit, I could have done this at home.
They can’t cure us, only help the symptoms. I kinda feel like we are dismissed. We don’t get telethons, or concerts.
Only news coverage when someone stops taking their meds or has no access to proper mental health care. And their illness takes over. That’s when we make the news. And then we fade away from the public eye.
I remember reading “FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON”. I loved that book. One of my favorites. IF you haven’t lived with mental illness all you life, there are moments in your life that were clear, and productive and positive. Charlie had these, and then they were taken away. Lucky for him, when he went back to where he was before, he didn’t realize he was once, “NORMAL”.
To me, there is no NORMAL. I take meds, but there are many out there who are worse off then I am and they are considered NORMAL.
It’s hard to look back at what I use to be, who I was before the bottom fell out. I don’t look back anymore, too much pain and self hatred.
I can’t live like that. I have to be who I am now, live with what I have now, and hope that NOW is enough.
Can’t future think, I get overwhelmed and it all turns to failure. But I can hope, that one day. I will accomplish something.
Maybe I’ll finish the maze before the mouse.