I am so sick and tired of mental illness! I hate it! And I’m sure you must be tired of reading about my mental illness. Why do I do this? Why do I feel the need to blog? Why can’t someone else who’s probably a better writer, more qualified, more gifted, take up the torch. This week as been rough (what else is new lol); I took up my pen several times to write something. But there was nothing, I felt numb, blank, empty, nothing left to give, nothing left to share. The battle with my illness had left me powerless and speechless. I had nothing left to share that could possibly help someone else, I felt I needed someone to help me.
You see when you have been given a diagnoses such has mine, it is something that’s not going away; there is no cure. Just like cancer (and I am not comparing, they are two totally different illnesses) but in some ways they are alike. My ‘cancer’ as killed and destroyed who I am, it eats away at your soul, your self, your being and your will. It leaves you with the haunting fear of a relapse.
So this past week as awakened my somewhat sleeping monster. Before my eyes are opened to face the day; my mind is busy with crippling nightmares. Nightmares of being on a locked down unit on an hospital ward, not a prison ward. A prisoner not a patient. I will forever be traumatized by those evil days of hospitalization. Traumatized by the reality of knowing that I am treatment resistant and I have exhausted all available treatments. My dreams will not let me forget this mesmerizing reality. Then there’s the memories (of what memory I have left of that time) of ECT. In my dreams I’m awakened before the treatment is complete and I’m strapped to the bed and no one will free me. Then morning comes and I realize I’m safe, safe from my dreams but never safe from my reality.
I have to take control of my thoughts as soon as my eyes are open, if not, they could easily spiral out of control to a point of being extremely overwhelmed and panic could easily take over. But thankfully I am still able, to some extent, control my own thoughts. With a mental illness there are not just the mental symptoms but also the physical symptoms. There are times when panic attacks (and thankfully right now are pretty much under control) but I still experience related symptoms such as an extreme rise in body temperature and feelings of mild fear and panic. It’s my goal to keep them from escalating into a full blown panic attack; which I never want to experience again. So I start my day as if every things okay.
All day, every day, my physical body feels triple it’s weight, there’s an heaviness that never goes away. It may fluctuate but never leaves. Then there’s the rising tides of emotion that you just want to cry. Most times you don’t even know why; you just do. Then you don’t want to start because if you do, it just won’t stop. But sometimes I believe your emotions can be used for your good; a form of release. To admit this makes me feel weak but the truth is; God gave us emotions for a reason. Many times in the Bible, Jesus is recorded as being emotional; ‘Jesus wept.’ If Jesus can cry, and He’s the Son of God; then so can I. Because someone doesn’t shed tears, doesn’t make them any stronger then someone who does ( but if the truth were known; everyone cries). I remember my Dad being a very emotional man, especially when he talked of spiritual things and the faithfulness of God. And because of that I respect him, and admire his compassion for others; he had a big heart that made him a very strong, wise and gentle man. I hope to be just half the man he was, he left me with a great legacy that I hope I will live up to and make him proud. And when we meet again, I hope he can look at me and say, ‘See, I told you, you could do it’. But right now, today, I feel I can’t do it. But I will, somehow find my way.
By the time half my day is done; fatigue sets in, not just tired but exhausted. I fight it as long as I can but there are times when I just give in and have no choice but take a nap. And of course that makes me feel guilty, I’m not suppose to sleep in the middle of the day. But sometimes I just have to listen to my body and rest.
It’s my prayer everyday to just be able to have a day when I feel free and not be held captive by my mind. To just enjoy life, my wife and children without being dictated by my mind of what I can or cannot do. I get angry, angry at myself, angry at not being able to rid myself of this illness. I just want to live, not just to survive.
Not everyone who has a mental illness experience what I am experiencing. Every person is different and their journey may not be at all comparable to mine. If you are reading this and you experience a mental illness (mine being Major Depression and Anxiety Disorder), I hope that you cannot relate to what I am saying because I would not want to wish this on my worse enemy (I hope I have no enemies). I may be treatment resistant but that doesn’t mean that you are or will be. I pray that you will respond to your treatment successfully and are able to live a normal, functioning life. And although I may not be responding well to treatment, I am responding to a certain extent; just not to the point where I would like to be. But I will not give up hope, I will fight to the end!
