Mental illness is not your fault.....Oh, wait a minute, yes it is
November 21st 2008 03:15
Years ago, I had a mental breakdown. I spent about 2 years hiding in closets, carving myself up with razor blades and screaming at anyone who would listen. I screamed that life was a joke, life was futile, and as many of us as possible should band together and committ suicide. Right now. Its the only solution. I ran down the road in the morning, unkempt hair trying to blow in the wind (if only it wasnt so horribly matted) and days old clothes reeking of fear sweat. Id run to the nearest bus stops, Id assualt the early morning commuters, "What do you think you're doing? Are you stupid? Cant you see the truth? Its all around you, glaring in your faces. Fuckers. You might as well throw yourself under a car. So dumb. Goddamn sheep"
Of course, I tried to committ suicide dozens of times. Cliffs, busy roads, razors and drugs. They finally hospitalized me for that. They were going to lock me up, which scared me more than the illness, but loving caring boyfriend became legally and officially my carer, who took full responsability for anything that might happen, and they let me go.
I never got better. I was told thats a fantasy anyway. No one 'gets better' they just learn how to deal with it. I simply walked out on every psychologist, psychiatrist, nuerologist and councellor I had. I got on with life, got a job, had panic attacks every day, and slowly erased from the minds of those around me, the horror of 'Crazy time'.
My paranoid delusions continued to grow. The nightmares and insomnia never left. When emotionally distraught, I still, to this day, cut. But I told no one. I buried it deep, deep.....In places even I had trouble finding it. Except, of course, when it drew up and roared its ugly maw at me.
But I got on with life! When I got a new doctor, a new nuerologist to help me deal with the headaches, they were amazed by my grip on my illness, my understanding of it and how it affected me. My ability to work around it and function as a human being.
I havnt worked in 3 months.
It has nothing to do with mental illness.
When I got fired, I took a little holiday - who wouldnt? I then attended interviews - up to three a week. I sent resumes to positions every day. Only yesterday I cold canvessed and handed out 7 resumes, as well as having an interview with an agency.
I did not ever once, succumb to the agorophobic paranoia that causes me to lock myself in closets. I did not, ever once, fold to the power of the delusions, the despair within me. When I got knocked down, I got back up with fists at the ready. When I didnt get the job, I said Oh well, next time then, and pushed harder to bring in the money.
And last weekend, I listened to my family have a discussion about me. As if Im a THING and OBJECT a PROBLEM that must be adressed and dealt with. I tried to hide away from their words, "So, just what are we going to do about Arnathi?" but I couldnt, they drove into my skull like hammer pounded needles. All Saturday morning they talked about me and 'My Illness"
I was furious. Why is this even being discussed? I have shown no symptoms, (that you know about) Ive tried so hard, Ive done everything right, EVERYTHING......And yet here I am being painted as the crazy wack job.
If they like, I could fulfill it. I could stop fighting the beast every second of everyday. I can roar at the voices in my head, take constant overdoses of painkillers and hide under the bed and slice myself up. I can even run to the nearest bus stop and assault the early morning commuters, if thats what they want.
And surely, it must be what they want. Because I have done nothing crazy. NOTHING. So I havnt worked in three months - IVE TRIED SO HARD!!!! Ive gone to interviews everyday, Ive WORKED at it, doing up new resumes and calling up positions out of the paper. I even went for topless waitressing for fucks sake, just to avoid this happening. Turns out my tits arent big enough. But I didnt let that deter me, hell no, I kept it up, kept fighting, kept struggling, kept working.
So today. The boyfriend rings me.
Hes all excited. Hes got a new diagnosis for me. Aspergers. Fair enough, it sounds like Ive got the symptoms for it. Ive got the symptoms for everything. How does that help me? He claims if I get diagnosed with it I'll go on disability.
I remind him, I have done nothing wrong. I havnt been bleeding to death or foaming at the mouth from codiene when he walks in the door at night. I have sent resumes, I have been to interviews. I have done nothing, NOTHING that would cause you to make this judgement.
He just says something has to be done about me. I must be crazy. I havnt got a job yet.
So I tell him. "Isnt it funny, when Im working, paying my bills, you dont give a fuck about my emotional state. I try and tell you about my paranoid delusions and you dont want to know. You block me out. I warned you it was going bad at work, that I was going to get fired. You didnt care. You said, 'you'll be right' and that was it. Why is it, when I have done NOTHING AT ALL THATS CRAZY....You suddenly care so much about my mental illness.....AS SOON AS IT STARTS COSTING YOU MONEY??"
He fumbled, he stumbled. He had no real answer to that. But I do. Revenge. Theres not going to be much christmas this year. It doesnt bother me, I fucked it up, I dont deserve one. Quite happily, take the money for my presents and buy your own. THAT will make me happy. But to suddenly turn around and say, well, you must be nuts, thats just got to be revenge. An attempt to hurt me for not working (But Im trying! Im trying so fucking hard! I dont know how to try any harder!)
Its not fair. The first thing they teach you is 'mental illness is not your fault' but in the eyes of those near you, it is, deeply your fault. How dare you be in emotional pain we cant experience and enjoy? How dare you have an illness that gives you an excuse for everything? How do you catch one of these illnesses? I want one! Snap out of it, get over it, get on with it get it done.....
Oh. Just what DO YOU THINK I AM TRYING TO DO????
So. If they want crazy Arnathi back, the Arnathi that tries to convince everyone to kill themselves RIGHT NOW (and I can be very fucking persuasive) then they are well and truly on the right track. If they want to create complete psycho bleeding drug taking paranoia, they are driving right into it, because I cant take much more of this. I might be crazy, but Ive got a lid on it, firmly got a handle around it.
Until, of course, the people I love and trust the most (that are supposed to love and trust me back, supporting me through the dark times) accuse me of the opposite. Thats bad form man. Bad Form.
Of course, I tried to committ suicide dozens of times. Cliffs, busy roads, razors and drugs. They finally hospitalized me for that. They were going to lock me up, which scared me more than the illness, but loving caring boyfriend became legally and officially my carer, who took full responsability for anything that might happen, and they let me go.
I never got better. I was told thats a fantasy anyway. No one 'gets better' they just learn how to deal with it. I simply walked out on every psychologist, psychiatrist, nuerologist and councellor I had. I got on with life, got a job, had panic attacks every day, and slowly erased from the minds of those around me, the horror of 'Crazy time'.
My paranoid delusions continued to grow. The nightmares and insomnia never left. When emotionally distraught, I still, to this day, cut. But I told no one. I buried it deep, deep.....In places even I had trouble finding it. Except, of course, when it drew up and roared its ugly maw at me.
But I got on with life! When I got a new doctor, a new nuerologist to help me deal with the headaches, they were amazed by my grip on my illness, my understanding of it and how it affected me. My ability to work around it and function as a human being.
I havnt worked in 3 months.
It has nothing to do with mental illness.
When I got fired, I took a little holiday - who wouldnt? I then attended interviews - up to three a week. I sent resumes to positions every day. Only yesterday I cold canvessed and handed out 7 resumes, as well as having an interview with an agency.
I did not ever once, succumb to the agorophobic paranoia that causes me to lock myself in closets. I did not, ever once, fold to the power of the delusions, the despair within me. When I got knocked down, I got back up with fists at the ready. When I didnt get the job, I said Oh well, next time then, and pushed harder to bring in the money.
And last weekend, I listened to my family have a discussion about me. As if Im a THING and OBJECT a PROBLEM that must be adressed and dealt with. I tried to hide away from their words, "So, just what are we going to do about Arnathi?" but I couldnt, they drove into my skull like hammer pounded needles. All Saturday morning they talked about me and 'My Illness"
I was furious. Why is this even being discussed? I have shown no symptoms, (that you know about) Ive tried so hard, Ive done everything right, EVERYTHING......And yet here I am being painted as the crazy wack job.
If they like, I could fulfill it. I could stop fighting the beast every second of everyday. I can roar at the voices in my head, take constant overdoses of painkillers and hide under the bed and slice myself up. I can even run to the nearest bus stop and assault the early morning commuters, if thats what they want.
And surely, it must be what they want. Because I have done nothing crazy. NOTHING. So I havnt worked in three months - IVE TRIED SO HARD!!!! Ive gone to interviews everyday, Ive WORKED at it, doing up new resumes and calling up positions out of the paper. I even went for topless waitressing for fucks sake, just to avoid this happening. Turns out my tits arent big enough. But I didnt let that deter me, hell no, I kept it up, kept fighting, kept struggling, kept working.
So today. The boyfriend rings me.
Hes all excited. Hes got a new diagnosis for me. Aspergers. Fair enough, it sounds like Ive got the symptoms for it. Ive got the symptoms for everything. How does that help me? He claims if I get diagnosed with it I'll go on disability.
I remind him, I have done nothing wrong. I havnt been bleeding to death or foaming at the mouth from codiene when he walks in the door at night. I have sent resumes, I have been to interviews. I have done nothing, NOTHING that would cause you to make this judgement.
He just says something has to be done about me. I must be crazy. I havnt got a job yet.
So I tell him. "Isnt it funny, when Im working, paying my bills, you dont give a fuck about my emotional state. I try and tell you about my paranoid delusions and you dont want to know. You block me out. I warned you it was going bad at work, that I was going to get fired. You didnt care. You said, 'you'll be right' and that was it. Why is it, when I have done NOTHING AT ALL THATS CRAZY....You suddenly care so much about my mental illness.....AS SOON AS IT STARTS COSTING YOU MONEY??"
He fumbled, he stumbled. He had no real answer to that. But I do. Revenge. Theres not going to be much christmas this year. It doesnt bother me, I fucked it up, I dont deserve one. Quite happily, take the money for my presents and buy your own. THAT will make me happy. But to suddenly turn around and say, well, you must be nuts, thats just got to be revenge. An attempt to hurt me for not working (But Im trying! Im trying so fucking hard! I dont know how to try any harder!)
Its not fair. The first thing they teach you is 'mental illness is not your fault' but in the eyes of those near you, it is, deeply your fault. How dare you be in emotional pain we cant experience and enjoy? How dare you have an illness that gives you an excuse for everything? How do you catch one of these illnesses? I want one! Snap out of it, get over it, get on with it get it done.....
Oh. Just what DO YOU THINK I AM TRYING TO DO????
So. If they want crazy Arnathi back, the Arnathi that tries to convince everyone to kill themselves RIGHT NOW (and I can be very fucking persuasive) then they are well and truly on the right track. If they want to create complete psycho bleeding drug taking paranoia, they are driving right into it, because I cant take much more of this. I might be crazy, but Ive got a lid on it, firmly got a handle around it.
Until, of course, the people I love and trust the most (that are supposed to love and trust me back, supporting me through the dark times) accuse me of the opposite. Thats bad form man. Bad Form.
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