This blog post is breaking my personal commitment to say what I want, with as few words as possible
Catchy tittle, and I’m positive that I’m luring in a bunch of new followers. (sarcasm is my intent here)
When I started blogging on August 6, 2010 on blogger, I did so through the encouragement of my daughter. I blogged sporadically until May 4, 2011. My follower was my daughter. My content was about grief, the life-changes of my kids graduating from high school and moving on with their college years, and the difficulty of parenting a budding teenager who was a smooth talker, which forced me to think faster than he could.
After the death of my grandpa, brother, grandma, dad, and a 4-legged child in an 8-month time frame, I was receiving a thorough lesson about grief. To make it through, I made a mental note of things that made life worth living. In other words, I found a moment each day to be. To soak in my surroundings. Eventually, I found peace…well, for the most part. Instead of thinking about my loss, I celebrated their lives and how they enriched my life, and continue to do so.
Again, at the suggestion of my daughter, I switched to WordPress. My first post was June 6, 2011. It’s not there anymore because I have been archiving my posts as a snooze-fest-present to my kids for when they get old and can’t sleep. The theme of my new blog was to find something each day that made life worth living.
When I began on WordPress, it was 6 days after learning I had lung cancer, and the surgery to remove it. I was in more pain than I could tolerate, I was agitated by the pain medication, I was sure my lung was going to collapse, and I was in a huge pit of depression.
Depression wasn’t exactly new to me, but the depth of this episode, took my breath away. I wanted it to take my breath away.
So…when I started blogging on WordPress, I decided to find something worthy of breathing each day, and blog about it. Something beautiful or funny. It helped me work through the grief, I thought it could help me work through the shock, depression, and anxiety I was facing.
As I was archiving my older posts, I read articles which seemed forced. Not my genuine self. But I kept trying to be positive. All the while, I had anxiety eating away at my confidence.
Then I got rather furious regarding the media reporting the sensational stories of the untreated mentally ill who go on killing sprees. These people were the face of depression/mental illness.
Oh, how incorrect that is. The face of mental illness doesn’t look the same on every face. There isn’t a one-size-fits-all. We look normal, we try to act as normal as possible, and most are successful at hiding their illness. People who carry on with as normal a life as possible.
When my sister died a year and a half ago, I hit an even deeper — actually it was bottomless — pit. I finally decided to fight for my life instead of giving up. I wanted to give up, but something inside me wanted stability more.
So…..please, to anyone who thinks I lounge around all day, every day, feeling hopeless–because that is what I’m writing about–that isn’t the case. I have my weeks where I have to fight a little harder, but I have found things to laugh, to enjoy, to love. I think I need to write more about those things so that y’all know that I’m normal, and I’m not depressed every day of the year. I’m learning to manage my illness, and I’m not doing so bad.
My explanations flow through my written words far better than my spoken words. Mainly because I can edit. When I have to speak, I forget half of what I’m saying, and if someone doesn’t ask me to clarify, they are misled by some form of brain fart on my part.
I eventually found that I have
stalkers followers on WordPress. :D
Actually, I was a bit shocked when I received my first true follower not related to me, or a fellow blogger trying to get me to make money off my blog, by following their steps.
I lost my way and focused more on the negative part of my poor-pitiful story. Yes, I have been through a lot. Some people have been through more than I have. We live in spite of our disabilities.
I wanted to show the face of the majority of the mentally ill. I wanted to let others know they aren’t struggling alone, and that there isn’t anything to be ashamed of. I’m still convincing myself that I shouldn’t be ashamed.
But mostly, I have written many posts to one person. Well, two—one of them is myself.
The most beautiful thing that I have gained through this entire experience—the changes, the loss, the set backs—I have learned who I am and what I’m capable of. I’m not that bad. The main issue I have the most difficulty with, is feeling as if I’m letting someone down.
Even though I will have to live my life struggling to manage my illness, I know what to do. I will no longer fight the medications–even though I hate them–or the advice of my doctors. Their course work of How to Torture Your Patients 101 was for a reason. Some haven’t been a good fit for me, so I found another.
I would love to make mental health less stigmatized. I deeply wish that the help needed was affordable, and available to all who require it.
My voice may only be one, but I hope to one, it makes a difference. Either to a person living with another suffering from mental illness, or a sufferer who feels alone.