Arms up

I don't know what to do.  What I'm supposed to do.  All of these years, everyone around me being 'coy' about me being crazy, laughing and mocking me as if the depths of my pain were all just mere pangs of entertaining everyone feeding off other people's misfortunes.

It's insanity, all of it.

Anyway, I'm thinking of my friend again tonight.  I'm not allowed to speak his name because unpredictable opinion spews out in one of two ways:  "oh, how "cute."  

Or the alternative:  raging angry opinion.

I'm trying to cut through all the crap and get to what's real in the heart.

My heart aches to be near my friend and help him as he can help me.

But I'm not in a position to do that.  Because I'm not an equal.

I'm beneath what's appropriate or acceptable.

And I find that so very tragically sad.

Today

I start a workshop next week with my local mental health advocacy group and am so looking forward to it.

Something has to change.

The conversation needs to change.  Nobody knows what another person is going through mentally at any given time, so why are we so hard on each other?

I'm thinking about my friend today, and how I can change our conversation from 'everyone else's gossip' to our personal connection, unconditional support and mutual understanding of where we fit in in this world.

Anyone opposed to that needs to shift their concerns on something else, because, well, the world needs more support and love and positivity more than anything else right now.

Paths

I'm not a genius.  I'm not talented.  I'm not important.  I'm not anything but a caring, sensitive individual.  The things that have happened in my life, the circumstances I've been put in, the people who have meddled in my life...all of that....that's not me.

I look back at certain times in my life with so much clarity.  Other times just have me kneeling on the floor in despair.

I wish I had answers.

It's a bad day, I cannot lie

My ambien didn't help last night and I'm just wide awake after not sleeping last night.  It's like this invisible psychic force overcomes me, where it feels like it pounces on me at my lowest point and I start to unravel.  I don't know how to describe that invisible psychic force, but imagine for a moment, if you will, that many many many people are gossiping about you all at once.  Imagine how that might feel.

I'm not saying that's the case, that that is what I believe is happening, but it's what my mind is tortured with feeling and I just feel defeated and inches from total collapse.

I am processing traumas in therapy and it's got me feeling lost.  

There are bad days with this illness and today is one of those.

I'm sorry I'm not a successful human being.  

La balance

I am balancing summer as best I can.  There is so much live music and so many small adventures to enjoy.  Make art everyday, do something creative everyday, make everything count.  All of these phrases roll over and over in my mind.  Sometimes, though, I just want to enjoy what others have created themselves.  I feel isolated when I drown myself in my own projects.  It's not supposed to be that way, but it is. 

I'm still pondering things, but scheming? No, I'm not scheming.  The world is full of too many of those.  

Current events break my heart.  The danger of anger and hate and violence....and witnessing hateful responses.  It's heartbreaking.  All I know how to do in this world is be the change I wish to see.  Walk in peace, lead by example, walk the walk.  And when confronted with hostility and aggression, act with peaceful resolution.  Hate gets you nowhere.  

Music and Coping

It's summer in Chicago and I have begun my adventures of trying to soak up all the live music I possibly can.

I go through bouts of agoraphobia at times, during certain years of my bipolar/anxiety/trauma brain trials and tribulations, but I'm feeling pretty upbeat because I don't seem to be afflicted with that panic currently.

Saw a band last night, seeing one of my favorites tonight, seeing another band I love on Friday.  I'd love to pop by another favorite musician's concert next month too but I just can't rationalize paying so much for a concert ticket to see someone I once considered a friend.  That's just messed up...

I tried once to pick up a guitar and sing.  It didn't go well.  I am NOT a performer nor do I have any singer/songwriter talents.  I still have a student guitar that is sitting in its case in the corner of my living room, and every so often I'll try to tune it and play a little ditty.  Not for anyone but me.  Maybe my cat if she's in the room.  No siree, I am not cut out for that.  But boy do I enjoy watching others with TALENT doing what they do so well.

From a mental health standpoint, music and song lyrics helps those struggling find words and pitch to what they are universally experiencing.  That's really important, you know.  To be able to find an expression for what one is experiencing is of utmost, sincere importance, and I hope musicians can always remember that significance of their art and not get swept away with fandom adoration and enlarged ego.

Networks of support

I still feel like I kind of have to live a double life with mental health issues.  It's not as if I need to unload every single traumatic event that has ever occurred in my life publicly, but it is important to feel connected to those who perhaps know the depths of depression or the frightening heights of mania.  It's important to know others have walked down similar roads, where they'd have to step away from life and navigate the halls of a psych ward for a few weeks until reckless thoughts are replaced with functioning, stable mental processes.

As far as relationships go, I often think about ways to suggest to loved ones how they might go about offering support to someone in the midst of a mental health crisis.  I've thought a lot about it in fact, and here are a few things:

1) Visit your friend or loved one during visiting hours in the psych ward, don't just gossip about them with your friends and family in their absence. Just go and play a game of scrabble with them, or bring them a nice personal care item like a lavender hand cream that uplifts their spirit.  BE THERE.  I know it's hard to see someone there, but just go and visit.

2) When visiting, don't diss the doctors or offer your opinions about every tiny facet of the mental health system.  Creating a feeling of dissatisfaction or even feeding fear for your friend or loved one just makes them feel hopeless and confused and scared.  Support.  Just offer support.  Sometimes the psych ward is the best place for them....

3) Let the professionals do their job, and give your friend or loved one space to sort through their own feelings.  There will be plenty of time down the road to advocate and help them discover helpful tools to cope, as well as make medication adjustments as needed.

These are just a few things that I wish I would have had.  Don't say things like, "you're on your own with that shit."

For the love of God, don't say that.

Outlook

I have to keep reminding myself of my successes and to not feel let down by the limitations that mental health troubles bring.

It's easy to dwell on the sadness that labels bring, but once you can find that space to give empowerment a try, I think things can start to turn around.

It's important to find supports.  I have a few, but I'm working on trying to find more.  It's not easy, but I won't give up.

Perspective

Oh dear.  I just don't know what to do anymore.  I am still struggling in life and age 40 is right around the corner.  I do the therapy, I take my job seriously, I pay my bills on time, I go to support groups, I try and reach out, I try and be a good friend.

I don't have any brilliant million dollar ideas to achieve any success.  I try and write, like really write and I don't mean on this dumb mental health blog, but nothing ever comes of it.

Still, in retrospect, I am doing better than I once was.  I'm not overloaded on pills, where I went to bed at 7:30pm for two whole years because my goofy former psychiatrist told me I needed to sleep.  I'm not suicidal or even get close to that point like I once was many moons ago (for that I blamed the very wrong med combo I was on.)  And I actually don't mind going to psychiatrist appointments because he respects me.  Heck, I might have even been a positive role model for a few young ladies I've managed at the shop in recent years.

But I'm not content.  I still deal with financial distress.  I still shudder in fear and anxiety and probably always will due to the effects of early childhood and adolescent trauma and violence.

Sigh.

Difficulties

Today is just a tough day.  That is all I want to say for now.