some realness for ya...

CONTENT WARNING: Mental illness, childhood trauma, sexual assault.

Yesterday was kind of a long day for me. I had spent two wonderful nights on the Sunshine Coast, enjoying the slower-moving community for Thanksgiving with friends. They had just moved from Vancouver to this little oceanfront community, separated from the lower mainland by a beautiful 45 minute ferry ride up the strait. I was excited because this was actually a challenge for me. I was invited to celebrate with them because my family lives in Toronto and I would otherwise have been alone (which I am usually very okay with). They went out of their way to include me and for that, I was very thankful!

The problem was, being that I am at home often for two weeks at a time, I have major anxiety that I will say the wrong thing accidentally; this makes me kind of quiet and nervous. I hate to put the burden of conversation on others, especially when I don't know much on the topic or have lighthearted small talk to involve everybody in... I'm way more of a heavy topic and deep thought person which isn't generally great for dinner conversation, haha! Thankfully, my two friends are lovely and both suffer with mental illness to some degree, so we all just kind of silently acknowledged one another's struggles and loved one another regardless of the internal dialogues!

I'm thankful for friends like these who know how difficult it is to put myself out there. To not have to hide away or feel judged is a beautiful thing, and I'm slowly learning to just push through and try not to be so mean to myself when I do fail. It's an uphill battle that has raged inside me for as long as I can remember, but I'm trying to manage this on my own... pills are my next option, and I really do not want to go there if I can help it. There are many reasons why I don't particularly want to go to therapy, mostly because dissecting and analyzing the trauma left by my childhood sexual assault would mean reliving it, and my adolescent mental and physical abuse would be awful to recount as I blame that for the nervous person I am today. I've learned to forgive, but I don't want to take a step backwards against my aggressors, ya know. Then there's my issue with being a bit of a hypochondriac, haha. "WHAT'S IN THESE PILLS, EXACTLY?!"
-Googles all the adverse reactions-
-throws pills away-
-weeps into pillow that nothing is 100% natural-
-eats pizza despite not wanting to put chemicals in my body like it makes any sense-

Basically, my mental illness doesn't help itself out at all by allowing me to take pills. I mean, I get awful cramps that leave me rolling around in bed for a full 24 hours once a month, moaning in pain and desperate for relief... but not (generally) willing to take Advil because my brain doesn't want to. Dumb right? The rabbit hole goes deep! (I'm rambling - this is anxiety).

I've realized that I'm also not just depressed, but manic depressive. I didn't know what 'mania' was until I looked it up and I am the definition, 100%. I wake up some days with a "WOO! Time to take on the world!" attitude. These are the days that I bite off a chunk of something that is far beyond my scope or ability, placing huge challenges upon my own shoulders, and generally setting myself up to fail, but man do I go hard! The next morning, I will recognize all of this is unlikely to work out, and so I probably stay in bed, feeling like a failure for not knowing this would be the outcome... It's tricky.

So back to yesterday!

I had had a really lovely weekend. I got home to a parking ticket (yay), worked two photoshoots with artists whose work I adored, and ended up visiting another dear friend and his lady later in the evening. Overall a great day! When I got into bed, though, I felt like a failure, and for no good reason. This is depression, and even when I'm staring it in the face, yelling, "this makes no sense! Today has been really, really great!" it shrugs its shoulders and says, "so? Let's think about all the things you could have done better!" and grins.

I was scrolling through Instagram, leaving love all over, and that's when I came upon Ruby Roxx's post about yesterday having been Mental Illness Day. I had no idea, but vowed to make a post today describing what one part of my mental illness presents as. Although it's an affliction, it's also something that carries stigma that is harmful and difficult to erase. It's so important to talk about it, so I knew I had to share my experience in hope that it might make someone out there feel less alone. As I said above, the rabbit hole really does go deep, but you're no less worthy of love and care than anyone else, no matter what the chemicals in your brain tell you. Know that this is an indisputable FACT. <3

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Do you struggle with mental illness? If you do and wish to discuss, feel free to share your thoughts and experiences below with as little or much detail as you like, or to connect. I've got your back. <3