Depression

Why me?
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Why me?

Why me? I ask myself this question everyday why was I born so sick? Why was a born with these mental and physical struggles? Why do I feel so different like I don’t belong here? Why did I not die a birth? Why did I live instead?

These are things that I ask myself when my depression/ anxiety speak for themselves. I fight them back every day each day goes by it get a bit easier since starting therapy and getting medicine. Even so it still a fight, I for so long was afraid to seek help due to being suicidal I was afraid they would lock me away and throw away the key, like they do to so many others. I had personal connection to this fear my mom had an aunt who was sent away to the mental hospital back in the late 60s, to this day no one has any idea what happen to her once she was sent away no one heard from her or saw her again. This is something that is not just history it still happens to people today, but no one know or speaks about it. This why many people fear asking for help they don’t want to be taken away thrown in a hospital and have all their basic human rights stripped from them.

Solitary confinement is a cruel/inhumane punishment they put not just prisoners through but also those with mental struggles. They say to protect them, but it is to control them this does not help a prisoner reform nor help someone with mental health recover it only make these issues worse. Although has been some improvement but nowhere enough and it only improved for those of certain class and race.

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to my mind

dear,

it’s been so long since i’ve last written to you.

have you missed me? i’ve missed you. terribly, terribly so. i look in our bathroom mirror (the one that you would let your body draw smiley faces on when the glass fogged from a too-hot shower, remember?) and see you again. we share the same eye-bags and bright, big eyes that are hard to miss. i think that is one of my favorite things about you two.

i wish i could give you a hug right now.

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Your Disability Is In Your Head

Trigger warnings: mental illness, SA

My disability, as I’ve been told by my parents during some of the hardest years of my life, is all in my head. The accumulated and compounded effects of strife in my life that eventually developed into a deep, dark depression- it’s not physically tangible, so how could it have been real?

I have a unique relationship with my disability. The one that I grapple with the most is one that is acquired, not inherited or born into. I have post-traumatic stress disorder, and I am not a war veteran. I am a sexual assault survivor. My disability was acquired through experiencing trauma and then experiencing the more deeply horrific experience of utter social isolation, lack of support, and lack of real mental health resources for someone of my age, specific trauma, and cultural background. I was diagnosed when I was 13, before I realized I have ADHD, depression, and GAD. Most of those are co-morbid.

My relationship with my disability was very much through the lens of the medical model- something is wrong with me, it is my problem to fix, and in the mean time, *some* institutions and people may be willing to accomodate my different needs despite the burden that it is (that I am), but ultimately the onus of responsibility for my disability, for my neurodivergence and its physiological consequences, is on me.

I realized much more recently that this may not be true. This semester, it was reiterated to me in the form of Tom Shakespeare’s reading about the social model of disability. // In our view, it is society which disables […] impaired people. Disability is something imposed on top of our impairments,
by the way we are unnecessarily isolated and excluded from full participation in society. (p. 215)//

I don’t agree with every aspect of this reading, such as how mental disabilities are not acknowledged by the founders/ creaters of the social model. But I do resonate with this new way of thinking- that the structures we live within are not inclusive to all people that live within them. This leads some people to struggle much more than others to get through their days.

I only started truly believing recently that I deserve the accomodations I have. Not because I didn’t believe that I was disabled, but because I saw them as a privilege. But I see it differently now. Not everyone has to deal with what I deal with every day. That doesn’t make them better than me or more normal than me, but it means that their phenomenological experience of this world is not the same. Nobody gets to tell me that my disability isn’t valid when they have never walked in my shoes. Nobody gets to tell me to suck it up and find a way to make it through when I see how so many people are able to do with ease, the things that I struggle and toil to do.

Also, yes, my disability is all in my head, in a literal sense. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real.

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“I’m okay”, “I’m tired”, “No worries!” and other lies I tell: An ode to my failing mental health

Image description: A vast, open ocean with mild waves, it's night and the sky is full of clouds, partially obscuring the full moon. (end ID).

2020 was a train wreck, a dumpster fire, the roller coaster we weren’t allowed to get off, and it doesn’t take much looking to realize everyone is fed up and burnout from the pandemic, over a year of condensed trauma (whether you or someone you knew got sick or not), incompetent people in power, social justice at the forefront of everywhere, up rooted and cancelled life plans, the world is a dart board with every inch covered in things that will decimate your ability to keep going. But 2021 seems to show that 2020 was just a prelude to what our everyday life will be like from here on out.

Content warning!! Candid mental health talk, sucide and suicidal ideation, and open talk about trauma responses (NO details will be given about the traumatic events).

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What does it mean to be depressed in a pandemic?

We are all going through it right now, but what about those of us that have been in this rut for a while? My family has told me time and time again that “this is hard on everyone”. How does telling me that help? What is the expected response? That I am automatically cured? That I will instantly snap out of my darkness because they pointed out that I am not in fact the only one struggling? I wish that was how it worked. It would save me a lot of money on my medications and therapy sessions.

But the question then occurs to me- how do we help ourselves during this time? This “unprecedented time”? I can’t speak for everyone when I say the outer-world’s behavior has made me feel like I am crazy, but for those of us that have been quarantined since March, everyone that is behaving as though things are normal is driving me Nuts! Not being able to see people, hug my friends, or go get a cup of coffee as normal is pushing me into this dark box that months of therapy once helped me to escape. Sitting in the same room, marathoning the same TV shows, and staring at my screen all day, every day, is exactly what we Aren’t supposed to do. We are supposed to try to get some sunshine, some exercise, socialize, try to get out of the house and remember to brush our teeth and shower. All of that is out the window currently. At least where I am living, people go on walks, but rarely, if ever, wear masks. Socializing is out and what is the point in showering if we are just staying home in pjs? How do we adapt to this new reality for God knows how long?

Trying to stay safe while also maintaining a living is difficult, to say the least. All we can do is try to maintain social distancing guidelines, wear a mask, and hand sanitize All the time. In summary- just try to do your best. Even if that “best” today is getting some food in your system- no matter what it is.

For me? Going to work helps. Zoom calls and checkins. Formulating a schedule. Waking up earlier and petting my dogs. Medication. A more regulated sleep schedule. Small steps. Taking every day one at a time. Social distancing my loved ones. Having open and honest conversations have helped. We are all on the same boat, yes, but that does not mean you need to quiet your emotions or push them down to benefit others. You are valuable. You matter. Your feelings are valid. You are entitled to feel and share your voice. Yes, many are having a really hard time right now, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t struggling too. You are allowed to take up space! Set boundaries with friends and family. Find what your limits are in which you can help those you care about, while also maintaining your mental health. You deserve to be treated well. And the best person to take care of you is You. Remember to breathe and that you are not alone. Someone is in your corner, even if it doesn’t feel like it. You are loved and you are worth the effort.

National Suicide Hotline: 800-273-8255

https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org
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I don’t need help, I can get through it on my own. Wait, I might need help.

About two months ago I took a large step, which I never thought that I would. I finally went to my doctor’s office and asked to be prescribed medication for depression. Depression is something that I have dealt with for a long time but I have also been very against taking medication to try and help with it. Partly because being on a medication for it would make it more real and not as easy to ignore and partly because I work in a pharmacy and I see the side effects that people have to deal with and how long and how many trial and errors can happen before they find the right medication. For the past couple years, I have gone back and forth trying to decide if I should go on medication or not. When I would have good days, or even weeks I would think no way I need medication I’m fine but then the bad days and weeks would hit and I would be stuck in bed wishing that I had something to help me because I no longer can do it on my own. Finally, after discussing it with my therapist and my pharmacist I decided to take the leap and get prescribed medication. So far it has been helpful and I notice that I do not feel so down all of the time which is nice. It is not a huge change, and I’m not fully convinced that my feeling better is not just a placebo effect but I am glad that I was able to finally take this chance and really start working towards bettering myself and not just suffering through to the next day.

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The Body and How It Changes

Disability is an interesting subject when one gets truly down to it. What is considered a disability and what is not also varies. Mental disabilities, physical disabilities, these are both types, but what about when there is a confluence of two of three types all at once?

I call that, when I am referring to my own situation, being trans.

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Mental Illness and Everyone Around

mental-health-disorders            One of the topics that struck me the most in class the last few weeks was when we talked about mental illness and the people whose loved ones have mental illness. When people talk about mental illness, whether it be their own or just as a general topic, it’s hardly mentioned how other people are affected by someone’s mental illness. Yes the focus should be on the person who it working through this ordeal but it can also affect the others around. Continue reading →