I have suffered from depression since I was a child. Looking back on my diary during my teen years, I could see that I wrote many times I was depressed. I was not officially diagnosed until the early 90s. I also began having panic attacks in the early 90s and was diagnosed with panic disorder. It cost me a job I loved, it has affected my children. I was hospitalized once. Never attempted suicide, but thought of it often. Mostly when younger. As I am now 63 and facing mortality head on, I find myself panicking over any pains that make me think heart attack, mainly if I am alone. Difficult to work, but cannot get disability.
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My journey with mental health
My journey with mental health has not been an easy one. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in 2011. I was constantly having panic attacks at bight time which prevented me from sleeping. I finally decided that it was time to get the help I very much so needed. I did, and every since then I can better manage my mental health with the tools that my therapist has given me. There is light and hope even after the darkest of storms. Keep fighting ❤️
I am so depressed
I was fired from my job. I feel that I was wrongfully fired. I told them that I was not well. I worked at a mental health agency and was hired as a peer support specialist. So they knew about my mental illness. I have been working there for 2yrs. They never had a problem with me. This new supervisor that I last had as a trigger to me. To make a long story short. The last time she snapped at me, I snapped back. I told her that she need to learn how to talk to people . I ended up having a panic attack. I didn’t curse, I didn’t touch her, nor threw anything. I had all of my doctors excuses so they couldn’t use that to get rid of me. However, they said the way I acted they had to let me go. That happened this February, and my life hasn’t been the same. My mental health has been at a low since. No matter how I try to move on i just can’t. There are so many things that that supervisor did that upsetted me. This woman called my therapist and my phyctrist. Like was lying. I have been thinking that I should of reported to the Director of the agency. She was always nice to me and did tell me that I could talk to her. But I never did. 😒😒😒😢😢😢
Defining Me
Panic attacks, anxiety, depression and self harm. I let those define me over a year ago. That was my reality, and it still is, but this time I am defining myself trough the experiences that I have acquired trough getting healthy.
Being a Mental Health Advocate
I refuse to stay silent about mental health and how it affects me. I was paralyzed by the stigma all of my life I started speaking out and talking my depression/anxiety openly online. Through my writing I have been able to reach so many people. I remember when I first started sharing, I heard “You are not alone” and it was such a powerful statement because I had felt so alone all my life, I felt ostracized and made to feel that my mental illness made me inferior to others. “You are not alone” soon became my motto. When I share my struggles and my story, not only do I get the support and love I need but someone else is helped as well by reading my words, it’s a powerful feeling to go from feeling stigmatized, mocked, alone and helpless to finally being a voice for others and getting support back as a result, it’s a responsibility that I don’t take lightly.
Coming out with Mental Health Issues – Career Suicide?
Coming out in the traditional sense of being Gay, Lesbian, Bi, Trans, etc., in the work place has its own set of fears and potential consequences. Coming out that you have a Mental Health challenge, such as major depression, anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD, or other challenge is equally accompanied with a host of fear because of many deep rooted stigmas. Regardless of the current laws and ordinances against discrimination in the workplace any of us who have been around the block a few times know that it is all too real for many of us. The lived experiences of coming out, in many cases can be disastrous, loss of professional status, promotions, loss of jobs, livelihood, housing, relationships, family, leading to more stress and exacerbating existing mental conditions. Other stigmas may also play a factor and further compound the pile on effect, kick them when they are down, crowd mentality.
Mental Illness, Depression, Anxiety, BPD
I feel like an alien, I don’t belong, I don’t want to be here, I’m not made for this earth, nobody understands what it’s like because you just can’t put it into words and even when you can you feel like a burden or like you’re crazy or attention seeking.
You know everything and yet you know nothing, constantly questioning who you are because once you think you know that illness comes tapping at your door and you suddenly feel lost again.
From a troubled past of bullying and being made to feel so small and insignificant, guilt trips, abuse, neglect, abandonment, death, violence, a broken home and self harm..
Nothing has ever felt like home.
Always thinking about giving up, never being good enough, wanting to fit in and be loved but at the same time all you want it to be left alone and not hurt anyone.
Being completely fine one day then losing control the next.
Locking yourself away and shutting everyone out and then when you’re finally alone you get hit with depression and crave someone to pull you out.
Problems with your self image and having to grow up too quick.
Abusive or unstable relationships where they react in a way which triggers the things you try so hard to keep hidden away.
Begging and crying to friends, family, hospitals, councillors and doctors to please just fix me I can’t take any more of this.
I Have A Mental Illness…It Does NOT Have Me **Trigger Warning**
I suffered in silence and hid my battles behind make up, pretty clothes, and a big smile for many years.
A Battle Within My Mind
I have struggled a majority of my life with mental illness. I have been diagnosed with the following: depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, severe generalized anxiety disorder, postpartum depression, and bipolar disorder. I stand my ground with my battles as they are constantly attacking me, but I am still here. If you or someone needs help, please do not be afraid! I have fought hard to find the right doctors and the right cocktail, do not ever give up! We are all In this battle together, nobody is alone. With love from a battler of this mental madness.
Abolishing the Stigma of Mental Illness
I come from a family of people who have struggled with mental illness. I remember my diagnosis of depression like it was yesterday. Next came my son s diagnosis of OCD . Then my daughter battled self injury, depression and panic attacks combined with social anxiety. And my mom has had some form of mental illness all her life, which to this day (she’s now in her 80s) has gone untreated.
As far as my kids and myself, we are and always have been very open about our illnesses. Having come from a family that stigmatized mental illness to the point that people suffered needlessly, I am determined to fight that stigma by sharing my stories with others.
My Parents Are Sick
One in five adults live with mental illness
You’ve spent your childhood watching your mother or father struggle with anxiety, depression or obsessive-compulsive disorder. You can’t remember if you put the cuts on your arms or if it was something they did. Everything may be going smoothly and suddenly, you find yourself furious, panicky or tearful and you don’t know why. They never noticed the cuts. Your life is often filled with anxiety, uncertainty, and vigilance. You don’t let your father see you cry when his anger breaks your jewelry box; the gift you cherished that he gave you only two months ago. You were plagued by loneliness, vulnerability, and helplessness. You felt unwanted, abandoned, and lost.
I was convinced no one would believe me, so I hid my chaotic home life from everyone. I was the family mediator, calming down a frightened father and comforting a sad, lonely mother. I convinced myself I was defective or different from other kids. When I was in school, instead of paying attention to my teachers, I’d spend all day worrying about how my mom was doing.
I lived in a permanent state of hyper-vigilance, constantly attuned to my father’s erratic moods and my mother’s helplessness. I chose to stay close to my emotionally unavailable, controlling partners and swallowed my needs to gain their approval. I wish I was beaten. I’d feel more legitimate. Who cares about me? Doesn’t anyone notice? I felt angry. I felt scared. The problem is no one can see my scars. I feel like if I told someone I was verbally abused, they’d think I was just complaining about being yelled at. If I’d been a better daughter my mother wouldn’t have been so sick. If I’d been a better son my mother wouldn’t have been so sick. All I knew was my grandparents were telling me that mum’s sick and dad was telling me that mum’s sick and I was confused, because she didn’t look sick to me.
I need positive feedback
Trauma and betrayal.
Staying out of the way, and staying safe.
Growing myself up.
I found myself in a paralyzing depression. I was suffering from complex posttraumatic stress disorder. There’s nobody in this world who loves me … I don’t have a mother’s love or a father’s love, or, family love… so it wouldn’t matter if I disappeared off the face of the earth.
My mother stopped sleeping when I went to college. Maybe it was my father’s heart attacks, maybe it was me. She’s been withering since. My familial environment was terrifying, and the chronic nature of this negativity exacerbated the effects of the neglect and abuse I endured. I found myself constantly trying to fix him. When I’m asleep and my roommate burns her grilled cheese at two in the morning my heart races as the smoke detector beeps. It takes everything in me to stop the panic building. The tears escape anyway. Growing up with dad, I never felt secure… and I know that I have always been anxious, my whole life. I feared to pass on the illness to a future generation. I’m scared to have kids. What if I treat them the same way my parents treated me? What if I don’t get well enough to care for them?
These were necessary behaviors when I was young, but they aren’t vital for my survival anymore. You can identify and stop participating in abusive relationship dynamics. Try to engage with people who make you feel safe and respected, who listen well and are emotionally available. I can be my own person. Thank your shame for protecting you and ask it to please step back. Your childhood was not your fault. It was ok to put some distance between me and my mother, even though I loved her. I named, validated and felt the sadness in my body as I gave myself compassion. I took a walk through the park and looked at nature. I felt better. It fostered empathy, compassion, and resilience. You had terrible role modeling from your mother. You had terrible role modeling from your father.
I will not inherit my mother’s pain. I will not inherit my father’s fear. She never showed you that we can learn to control our impulses. So I’m worth saving? I’m not irredeemably bad? I will always have ups and downs and have to manage fears and the damage that will always be there, but now I accept it and work with it. I can thank my parents for everything they have done for me. But I no longer owe them anything. I will grow strong. I will get better. I will be happy. And I will remember:
I cannot heal my parents.
This is a Found Essay, meaning that I pulled lines from different essays on NAMI and incorperated them with my own experience wot create a creative Non- Fiction piece.