A post by the awesome Seaneen made me think further (think? Me? Hell no!) So here are my muddled and alcohol and drug influenced thoughts....
Sometimes I just feel crap. Sometimes I just want people to hear that. I don’t want you to cheer me up. I just want you to understand that sometimes my life feels crap. It might not even mean that I am entering a full blown crisis - just that, on that day, at that time. life feels crap. I know it is not as crap as your life. I know it is not as crap as some other people's lives. I know that and I am sorry for my self-obsessed self pity. But sometimes this feels crap. OK? If not, please move on, nothing to see here.
I suspect any of us with a mental illness are seen by many of those without a mental illness as basically irresponsible. I mean, it must be our fault, right? If we only looked after ourselves properly / took all our meds all the time / thought positively / did everything we should, we wouldn’t even be ill. Ever. We’d just be wafting along on a wave of positive fluffiness somewhere. Always.
From this comment I do absolve many of you - please understand that i am speaking through a haze of self pity, self obsession and self-induced melancholia. It is all my fault. mea culpa. And many of you do *get* this - and are able to sit alongside me - for which I am more grateful than I can express at this precise moment in time. Believe me, it's a bad moment, and making this post is a very positive alternative to some of the other things I have contemplated doing tonight. So if you are one of those who has listened to my melancholy wafflings and not told me to shut up, I am more grateful than I am currently in a mental position to express.
“The chances of work sending you a “get well soon” card if you’ve just been dropkicked into psychosis are slim. ”
Hah! The chances of someone acknowledging you are “reallly” ill if you have a mental health complaint are next to none. See above comment. Especially at work.
Seanne's comparison to cancer is frighteningly apt. The month after I returned from 3 moths off work with depression, a colleague was off ill with cancer. Her cancer was (very fortunately) highly curable. She received more contacts in a week than I received in three months. She's almost certainly a much nicer person than I am. But it hurt, all the same. Because, in all honesty, I was in as much mortal danger as she was. Probably more.
It all sucks.
Here endeth today's self pity post.
But bear with me.
It's been one hell of a day.
(Wanna swap places? Please? Pretty please?)