Thoughts

This post is all about terminology. I’ve said before that language is a fickle thing and that some words -in this context, referring to mental health- have different connotations in casual conversation, e.g. “I’ve been feeling anxious for my job interview” is not the same as someone with diagnosed anxiety saying they’ve been feeling anxious lately. And, as I’ve also said before, that’s fine. That’s how language works, not going to get in a huff about it.

What this post is about is actually my own terminology. I don’t mean to change the English language, it’s more just communicating more effectively with those around me.

Trigger warning: pretty dark sh*t incoming.

To go ahead and dive right in, suicide has been a large part of most of my life. Self-loathing started when I was about 13 years old and only grew from that point, and having thoughts of wanting to die or being better off dead were common by 15. From there the thought of taking my own life came in natural succession.

But I never did, obviously. The primary reason for this was religious: I was taught that my life was not mine to take. And even as much of the religiosity fell away from my belief system, that bit remained, even if subconsciously.

And yet, of course, it remained hidden. Even those to whom I divulged my battles with depression never really saw the depths of how much I yearned for death. How much I thought I deserved it.

Things over the past few weeks have been going well. Well, not “well”, but improving.

A while ago I wrote about “better” vs “Better” but it’s still something that I have to grapple with, not only with other people but with myself.

Things have not been going well. And what I’m about to post is probably the most crazy sounding (or at least nonsensical) thing that I’ve ever written down, much less published. I very much fear posting it at all for those I know reading it and deeming me certifiable, or at the very least: unstable. (Newsflash: I’m always a little unstable. It’s kinda my thing. (That’s a joke, potential/actual employers.)) But in my heart I know that I have to post it, because something happened to this blog that I knew was a risk when I de-anonymized it: I started writing it for people. Yes, for “what if this or that person reads it?” but much more so for “but can I make them understand?” As I learned during my time in treatment, it’s a sense of control for me. I want to say the perfect words in the perfect way so that everyone in the situation understands completely and complies. Even if it’s in the best intention -which is most often is- it’s still a sense of control. But as in treatment, I have to teach myself that I can’t control people’s reactions. I can even less control their understanding, and by trying to find the best way to say it, I’m bottling myself up to where it never gets out.

So, anyway, how have things not been going well? Well, that’s where it starts to get tricky. Nearly everything on my recovery plan has fallen by the wayside. Yes, I had some very objective stressors in my life, and those took their toll. But as of the last 4 weeks, it’s been something far more insidious. It took me a good 2-3 weeks just to determine what was even wrong, much less what was causing it. Since then I’ve got a bit more analysis, but not much progress on….well, progress, mostly due to the problem itself.

I just recently got back from a trauma treatment center, in which I spent 7 weeks and 2 weeks in a hospital prior. It was a long time coming, despite the progress I’ve made, which is evidenced well by the fact that in the post prior to this one, I likened my mental illnesses to a terminal disease.

Obviously too much happened in those 7 weeks to be covered in one single post, so my intention is to succinctly list the major breakthroughs I had there, then expound upon them later.