I haven't been on this blog in a long while, unfortunately. Life has been getting in the way a lot, and although I'm making steps to improve everything it's not as easy as I thought it could be. That's not to say it can't be easy - I'm sure I'm just impatient.
Over the last few years of my life I have been the brunt of a lot of stigma. Stereotyping and judgement have been a familiar face to me, and I know that I'm going to be dealing with so much more and so much worse for the rest of my life. It sucks, but I guess that's life.
The last two years have been particularly difficult for me, personally. My anxiety and physical issues have been horrendous - truly horrendous.
I've recently started taking medication for my anxiety. For the first two weeks of one prescription I didn't stop crying for more than twenty minutes. I would be laughing one second and burst into tears the next. One comment could push me over the edge and I wasn't sure when it would end. I think the worst part, for me, was that I recognised the feelings I was having - I'd been there before and I'd been through a lot worse. I was given a new prescription and I'm doing better on it, but things are still hard. I didn't leave the house for eight days, I struggled to get out of bed and I did nothing but sleep or think about sleeping.
Today I felt productive. Maybe not I'm-going-to-a-lecture-and-I'm-going-to-tick-everything-off-my-list productive, but I've emailed a few people and I've at least done something. And then I started thinking about future jobs.
I'm in my final year of university and I am petrified of the future. Truly, truly petrified. I struggled at my last job due to the high-pressure feeling of working with the public all day. I struggle to go to seminars or doctors appointments because I feel trapped. For me, my anxiety is changing from a mental panic to a physical issue, which is absolutely bloody horrible.
But for the first time in a long time I felt a little bit of hope. At least that's what I think it was. I may not be a writer for five years, I might not ever be a successful writer. But today I think I really understood that I don't have to work in the public sphere. I don't have to work with anybody but myself. I can be incharge of myself if I want to. I made a list in my journal of potential things of not only things I could do, but things I wanted to do. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, but at least this way nobody else can come to me and stigmatise or judge or reprimand me for having a mental health issue.
To anybody that knows someone else suffering with a mental health issue: just be nice to them. Be understanding and help them in every and any way you feel you can. Because it really is not easy - we don't want this, but we have it. And sometimes a helping hand could change someone's day - it could even save their life.
