Short Change

I feel like I go into everything half blind. Too anxious to figure it all out, or maybe too scared to know the answers before me. I feel constantly afraid in a world I used to revel in the unknown. But all that’s left in me is the fear other’s instilled so long ago. Being the sufferer of things like mental health disorders brings an open invitation to those who like to make harsh judgments even when they know that it’s this party they weren’t invited to. I always believed that to judge someone is to say you’ve walked in their shoes and know better what to do then them, and that isn’t possible so you should never be able to judge. Who wants to anyway? Judgments are always harsh, bring about pain and in the end have no positive recourse. But society is always a part of them and I can never figure out why. Why do people think that those with mental health issues are crazy? Or that were not really suffering? Or event that were using it as an excuse? Do any of these really sound plausible? Would I really be out for attention when all I do is try to hide the suffering I go through? Just to make sure you don’t have to have pain by dealing with me, I conceal the one thing halting my growth. You said karma cut me clean, but karma came and gave me a life unknown that I had to pay for. I didn’t think that anyone should have to live a life of suffering when they had already lived their lives trying to keep others from suffering in the least. Where’s the balance here? Is there something I need to figure out that is a bigger reason than just me? Was there a point to all of this? Or did I need to learn some lessons that I constantly was studying for anyways? I wonder what makes some of us more susceptible than others? But for all of those that judge, they think I must be weak in the first place to be calling my disorder a disorder. But it’s true, because the order is so out of whack when you suffer. There is no rhyme or reason to anything except this: Only the strongest are the ones to truly suffer because the weak wouldn’t be able to handle what it has to offer.

Hope

When I was a little girl we used to have a sailboat. My dad would blare oldies and I’d get up on the bow and swing with the best of them. I’d shake my little ass and boats that would pass by would laugh and start mimicking me, waving in delight. That was me. Nothing terrified me, and nothing could. I wanted to try it all, get into it all, and be all that I thought life would allow at the time. Fast forward twenty years and I can’t even attempt suicide it’d draw too much attention. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve almost tried it once, but the thought of people even looking in my direction makes me want to shy away now.

When I was a little girl we used to have a sailboat. My dad would blare oldies and I’d get up on the bow and swing with the best of them. I’d shake my little ass and boats that would pass by would laugh and start mimicking me, waving in delight. That was me. Nothing terrified me, and nothing could. I wanted to try it all, get into it all, and be all that I thought life would allow at the time. Fast forward twenty years and I can’t even attempt suicide it’d draw too much attention. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve almost tried it once, but the thought of people even looking in my direction makes me want to shy away now.
People always say that when you get suicidal you’ve hit bottom but I don’t believe that. I got suicidal because my depression topped out, winning over everything inside of me. There was no bottom about it, except for how low I felt. Fifteen years ago I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and wish I’d known what that was, because I’m learning more about it now that I’m coming out of it. And that’s what I want to express, that there is a way out sometimes. It can happen. There’s so much I wish people told us as young children, so we wouldn’t have to always find out the hard way. I’d started to hear about depression in my teens and just assumed it was something I’d never get. But low and behold I have and my biggest fears were of what was to come. And back then no one talked about it and I’d not known of anyone else to have the same disorder so my loneliness became very popular inside of me. That was when I turned to blogs to read other people’s stories and words of wisdom from their perspective. I was always looking for that magical piece of advise when I was 19 and freshly diagnosed. I thought that if someone could just tell me what to do, I’d do it in a heartbeat and then think “let’s get back to the old me.” What a great wish that was. But then, a nurse once asked me if I could handle just this second. And as I said yes, she told me, “Even in your darkest moments, ask yourself if you can handle just this second and breathe.” “Remind yourself that life is an allotment of seconds to be had, and if you can make it through one, then just focus on the next, not minute, the next second.” And she kissed my forehead and walked out. I’ve tried medications that don’t work, doctors that don’t do their job, and therapists that were going through some terrible things themselves and relied on me to help them instead of vice versa. These years have been hard, but one thing I really believe is that suffering is for the strong because the weak wouldn’t be able to handle it. I’d get through a day, realize how hard that day was and the fact that I was still there, doing the last thing that I knew how to do, which was to breathe meant I’d made it. I really had to be strong to make it that far. And that was just a day. Fifteen years later I wish I could tell anyone that suffers just that. That that one piece of advice may not be out there, but if you listen to your heart, even when you think you have nothing left, you do. Because if you’ve made it through a hard day then you’ve still got your strength, which means there must be a little hope still in there as well. If you can keep those things alive, you can make it through another day, and another and maybe be able to find the time when you’re saying “I think I’m coming out of it too.” A lot of posts I would read would tell people the signs of depression, and I feel like if you really think you are depressed, then you probably are, it’s just hard to get past the denial of it. Today I feel a little better than yesterday. Life really chooses different paths for all of us, and while I’m not apt to shaking my booty on the bow anymore, I sure am getting back to listening to the music I love, and just hope that everyone else gets a chance to as well.

Circles

As I look up, you let me down. When I pull you in, from the lost and found. Whether the day is good, or my mindset bad. You turn away now, getting all mad. And I sacrifice, while you take it all, never knowing when the day will call, the guards away to seek me afraid, once so happy to be, sentenced with good in the day. Youre the one who taught me, and told me so. To lead on from behind and to just let go. Remember me and the words I say, always to you, from a heart that’s at bay. I will leave and you will heed, the words of a girl, that once you would need. Only to quite her and say you didnt mind. That day you went away, from a world left behind. From a place unknkown, undone and unshown, is me, from behind, the glasses you see, stark and unkind. From the remnants of you, turning this world into the blue. And in the darkest of minds is someone so true. Ready to come out, to be unveiled. To be seen, and shown, and at last curtailed. To a world from which I see, in a heart so failed, in that which is me.

Judgement Day

Depression is about being lonesome and unworthy even when youre around all of the people in the world and should feel like a million bucks. Its not about being sad. Being sad would be a great day for us. Its about feeling like the world is ending and youre its ultimate demise.Today I am not sad but I spent 15 years in the prime of tears when I should have been in the prime of my life. Everything was halted. I couldnt work, couldnt maintain friendships and simply couldnt get out of bed. I held down jobs on and off again but was always on the finest line of being fired while barely still employed. And some angry at life people thought I used my sickness on purpose to get out of work, thought I used it to be lazy or just thought I used it to use it. Some of you are mean. Because as I got better and better and still didnt have a job, quite frankly life without one suddenly became boring. I did feel lazy. But before I felt like the days took eons to complete yet went by so fast all the same. I couldnt keep up. The thing I’ve come out seeing the most of was judgement. People really do like to judge what they dont understand or what they dont want to put the time into its comprehension. I beg of you to not be ignorant of the lost soul you may not see beside of you. We are out there in vast quantities not wanting to be noticed. Trying to be invisible until life will let us go all the while wanting it to end as fast as we can blink. Dont be ignorant. People say they dont know what depression is but people are just playing dumb. We all know what its like to have bad days and we all dont want them. So if you multiplied that feeling to the Nth degree and add the judgement that comes from others and at times some bullying…youve got it. No you wont know what it feels like but everyone has an idea. A microscopic view of what MDD (major depressive disorder) can bring you. And it doesnt come by itself. It comes with more diagnosis to add and is never alone. So please beware the next time you tell someone to find a hobby, or that its just a bad day. Because you’ll never know how humbled you may become when you are suddenly in the drivers seat of it all. Thats how fast it comes on as well….within that one blink. So the next time you think about mental disorders, please remember the strength in its suffering. Sometimes its tears you cannot blink away.

Stormy Weather

Does anyone notice how much talking we do and no one hears what it is we are saying? I think im here with four others that are all talking at once. I sit in silence as the noise rings through. I wonder if this is the life. Should I just be happy that this is the biggest problem of today? My problems of death seem to diminish with each week. I no longer think of it as my way out. But what is a good way out now? What should I think of in the bad moments? And when do the moments feel as if they’re ringing true instead of ringing through my ears?

Does anyone notice how much talking we do and no one hears what it is we are saying? I think im here with four others that are all talking at once. I sit in silence as the noise rings through. I wonder if this is the life. Should I just be happy that this is the biggest problem of today? My problems of death seem to diminish with each week. I no longer think of it as my way out. But what is a good way out now? What should I think of in the bad moments? And when do the moments feel as if theyre ringing true instead of ringing through my ears?

Ive accepted that I am not meant to die anymore and quite frankly and sick of even bringing it up. I want to speak of happier things. I want to reach for the things resembling the stars and to be an affordable diamond. I want a life. To stop saying I know how sorrow feels just dont know where I begin. But how do I convey to other people that I am home? That ive been through the ringer and got flown back out in the midst of a tornado? Someone please tell me it will be ok and that this worry of tonight doesnt have to be carried out like the depression of my heart once screamed. How do you transition from one being to the next upon this one life meant for your one soul and your one walk down memory lane? Im on my way home and I love it but am growing impatient. Please hold my hand as I walk and tell me youll go down any isle I take and will still be there holding. Please. Just stop the storm.

Starlight Wishes

5

If I were a wishing girl I’d wish for never ending happiness. For all to be well on each and every day, and polite beauty around every corner. Dread wouldn’t be found in such beauty of a wish, made upon a star one night so full of starlights.

In the nighttime skies of wishes not lies, I ask for this broadening spectrum of hope to keep ensuing. “I will be better,” I’d say to myself. “If I could just have a chance at it.” And low and behold the chance of the starlight mixed with the dark of night keeps upon me. All the while knowing it might be my only shot.

I haven’t felt mentally healthy in fifteen years. What do I even do with the chance I’ve been given, as I lay among the stars and the moon. I’ll have to try this forbidden thing called happiness, which is mostly shunned or dismissed too soon. It usually plays a game with my mind, this happiness. Giving me a peek a boo once in awhile. Just long enough to know that’s this is what I’m fighting for, yet, not long enough for me to say it’s been worth it. Life, without happiness feels worthless. Only to breathe is what I have ingrained in me. I will keep the dread of depression and mental illness at bay, but also as my coat of arms to protect me from all things unfamiliar. When the earth’s moons change, so will my new life. I hope, as I realize the darkness of the eclipse above the horizon. I don’t know what to do with happiness. I don’t know what to do with life, in fact, I just don’t know what to do. Do I ask for forgiveness once again and wish to go back to the normalcy I seek? No, I won’t do that now. I won’t bother the starlight tonight. I’ll just go on my windy road with fingers crossed, that, like the changing of the seasons or temperatures of the day, I’ll settle in to my new abode of a silenced “happiness,” peeking out in the moonlight. I’ll accept it without recall and know that the starlight is watching….always to know what goes on into the night.

Stuck

6

Walking along the side of the road it is blustery and quiet. No one makes a sound except the rare car in the distance. It’s eerily quiet tonight, but I love it. Sometimes my life feels like I’m at the busiest intersection in town but I’m the only one here. Oh, how I love the nighttime. I’m always more awake and always seem to feel a little better when it’s dark out. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel like I stand out as much, who knows? I walk alone around my neighborhood missing my old best friend that used to walk with me. Him and I grew up together in this place and now all I have of him and everyone else is the memories. And I hate it because the memories are even starting to fade. Is that what happens as we get older? We have children and simply fade into the night? I hear an ambulance turn their sirens on. “Maybe their coming for me.” I’d think to myself. Maybe they’ll come and help me find a new life. Where did the old me go though? Usually outgoing I’ve turned into quite the introvert and am always anxious. My normal self is playing the longest game of hide and go seek. I’m so ready to go to the hospital where it feels safe. No one is their to make you miserable when you go to the hospital. And I’ve been to the hospital for this. Years and years ago. I hear gravel scrape on the ground as I take my next step, of course it’s stuck in my shoe, that’s just the way my life operates isn’t it? If something bad is going to happen then that someone it will happen to, is me.  At the hospital people are so nice to you and it doesn’t even seem like it’s because their paid to be that way. My first experience was filled with genuine concern of theirs and them actually trying to set me up with the right plan. But the problem is, what if you turn out to be suicidal quite a bit and don’t know what to do but go to the hospital. And this was when they didn’t put people in inpatient unless the situation was dire. Am I dire? Hell no, but having suicidal thoughts or even thoughts of harming yourself is. So what happens when that just won’t go away? That’s what they mean when they say the word “ideation.” Suicidal ideation is when you think about suicide a lot but don’t necessarily feel the need to go through with it. I tried to refuse the ideation’s service but the demon had already nustled up in my head. It didn’t even knock so I couldn’t say I don’t do anything door to door. My Dr. that I’d unloaded to about the depression advised me to go. No one wants to go the the hospital to spend their entire day away waiting. But isn’t that all I do anyway? Wait? Be patient to wait.  Oh, wait, wait, wait “miss….please have seat and wait.” UGH! Sometimes wait 24 hours, sometimes more. Then they release you and tell you to be good. What a crock. THAT’S your suicide prevention plan? Restraining me to a bed? “Don’t put me in restraints!” “What is this for?” “I haven’t even done anything.” Pleading with the Dr.s and nurses. “This is for your protection as well as ours,” they say. But I voluntarily came to the hospital asking for help. Except for the one time I overdosed and it took seven doctors to restrain me. I get fiercely protective of myself when it’s other people out to “handle” me. But why when it’s myself preying on my inner self do I just let that go? I fight til the death when I feel I’m the prey but I’ve been my mental prey all along and simply fall weak to it. Man, I hate this. I hate myself even more after realizing what I just wrote. Why don’t I fight for myself more? Or maybe I am fighting for myself by going to the hospital and not sitting at home hurting myself. But that’s not what one social worker had to say. She was the ‘bad cop’ out of the mostly good ones. Or maybe had the power trip she’d been longing for because when she got to little old me, oh did she prey. And hook, line and sinker I’d take the bait. But, like me, that’s neither here nor there. I sway from the in-betweens of life and limber. Sway to and fro in my easy going mentality with others, but fierce when it comes to myself. Constantly, I battle with who I am and why I am. The why’s of life unbeknownst and the who’s, undecided as I step up for battle after battle, in life and limb.

I’ve watched things become very different at the hospital over the years, they don’t restrain anyone anymore unless it’s really necessary for people with suicidal ideation. My ideation in having those bad thoughts showed me I was nearing the end. It was just a matter of time that the compulsions set in. I used to have suicidal ideation all of the time. It was daily and mostly all day. It really haunted me. I had to take the ESL of brain chemistry because my mind suddenly became foreign. My thoughts were morbid, I was thinking very irrationally, and all I kept trying to do was to figure this thing out. Blood became the forefront of my mind, replacing all things happy. Morbid, morbid things I’d attach to as it was the only thing I could relate, and therefor rely on. It actually calmed me down sometimes to think about killing myself. The world I lived became such a far off place, to this day I have a hard time understanding it. And I didn’t have to think about it on purpose. Morbidity was always in the wakes, casually waiting to be exposed.