I suppose, so that visitors can better distinguish among the various topics of my blog, it is time I should preface each post with a category. Some people seem more interested in reading about my experiences in living with mental illness. I hope that they take heart at reading of another person’s similar experiences, or at least take away a measure of understanding they did not possess before. I had difficulty writing for some time, had a spurt of productivity, then shut down again. The roots of what happened last year go back to the start of the year, but it really didn’t begin to go truly bad until August.
I was under a considerable amount of stress last year at work. My job pleases me, but it was getting difficult to keep up with a growing number of job duties. My depression began to deepen through the summer and in August it overtook me. I stopped taking care of myself privately, although other people did not see the extent. I barely took my medications for diabetes (I’m type 2), and by September my mental state was in shambles. I lost 20lbs in 4 or 5 weeks and became to experience suicidal ideation again. Before that could progress further, I sought further assistance beyond my psychiatrist by contacting a therapist. It cannot be stressed enough how different the two are and how they work in conjunction.
Little by little, these professionals helped me at least stay level, which was desirous as pressures continued to mount. I took a 2 week vacation at the end of December and gloriously did very little. I finally started cleaning the house again and was able to turn my attention towards making plans for the year, mostly revolving around my duties at work. I needed to be better prepared this year to avoid the pitfalls of 2020. So far, so good.
What I have only recently disclosed is that, although I had not reached suicidal thoughts or intents, I still wanted to die. I needed the misery to end. The spontaneous weeping, utter lack of emotion beyond misery, and a sense of encroaching doom. Did all that sound overwrought? It is, in fact, an understatement. Sometimes, for people with mental health issues, simply existing is a battle when it could be put to rest so very quickly. I’ve heard it called the coward’s way out. Those who say this are both ignorant and merciless in how such things compound the issue for others. I’ve had this said in my presence by someone who knew I had suicidal issues at numerous intervals. It stunned me, to say the least.
I’m going to stop here, as anything more in-depth feels as though I am dragging the thoughts out of my mind. Be kind. Seriously, what does it cost you to show empathy to someone else? To look up what to say and what you shouldn’t? Many people in distress will not vocalize it, particularly those in the deepest need.
Take care, darlings, and remember to save some of that kindness for yourselves, okay? If you feel that there is no one you can talk to, let me know. Until next time and my love to you all.