**DISCLAIMER** If the title is offensive, please educate me on the name of the trinket that you get your fingers stuck if you pull, but if you push then lightly pull back you free your fingers.
If I had to attempt to explain where my own personal mental health is at, the title does it perfectly. When I’m forcing my mood, I feel empty and stuck. When I go with the flow, I’m on autopilot. Feeling nothing yet worrying about damn near everything somewhere between subconsciously and back burner. Burned out, is an understatement.
Some people would refer to this as the valley of a bipolar episode. With how over-diagnosed I’ve been at nearly every rehab facility I’ve been to, I’m not sure if that’s what this is, or depression setting in with my anxiety stealing my energy. I’m lost among the trees, and have lost the forest.
I will keep trudging on, doing the only thing I know how to do when this strikes. Putting one foot in front of the other while struggling to hold on to the motivation and drive to just go through life. Not even to live it. I’ve dropped more weight that I didn’t have to lose and people have started hinting at the fact they can tell I’m not okay. My walls are getting weaker if people can read my true feelings, seeing the mask and making aware the elephant in the room.
My weight is a favorite topic of discussion for many people who have zero right to comment on anything about me. Strangers approach me, asking if I’m abused or neglected. If I’m a drug addict (thanks random lady at the store) they need to run out of town instead of “permit” to shop at “their” store. The fact of the matter is, I gained 15 pounds after I was gravely ill with a disease they can still only chock up to something because there isn’t definitive enough data to diagnose something spot on. Last time I asked a doctor about it, they said I had an eating disorder (until my husband came in a dispelled that) and that no way could someone my age be this sickly without it being self-inflicted. They didn’t appreciate the push back, and I was dropped as a patient after asking to be switched off the antibiotic I was on for one that wouldn’t exasperate my already dreadful stomach issues.
Then a new symptom kicked off with unintentional weight-loss, night sweats. This one freaked even myself out. Cancer runs STRONG all throughout both sides of my immediate family. Do you know how difficult it is, for a sickly (I’ve been some sort of sick since 2013..thanks body!) 20-something year old to get taken seriously at a doctor’s office these days? Let me say it for those in the back, NOT EVERY 25-30 YEAR OLD IS AFTER PAIN KILLERS AND BENZOS!!! SOME OF US ARE TRUTHFULLY SICK AND WHEN WE PRESENT TO YOU WITH TANGIBLE SYMPTOMS, TAKE US SERIOUSLY!!! I know even though I want to die, I don’t want to yet. If I die, I want to die knowing I saw my family and got to tell everyone, even my Dad, that I love them. That I’m sorry for the disappointment and burden I became from 18-22 after I’d spent my entire life living up to and solidifying the trust between us. I used to live up to my potential and be the quick adapter, not after I’d been introduced to heroin. I want to be able to feel their hugs so I can call back that love and safety like the back of my hand. Know that forgiveness is the last thing between my father and I. Then I’ll be okay with dying.
I’m in a dark place, and though I may fantasize about suicide at times, let me promise you that I am in no way suicidal. I am able to cope with and combat those thoughts thanks to therapy I’ve received over the years after my attempt at 14. I’m lost in my mind’s spiral right now, but if there is one thing I know, it’s that this is a phase. A season that will pass eventually. Until then, I will call back the mantra my mom had to tell herself after she almost died.