minor bouts of mania fun guy get things done depressed sit in dark room give me whatever I want clean the house contact reach out talkative grocery store line love me they all love me bulldoze you all
Her old man died. She’d never forget that day. Coming into the house after canning peaches all day in the shed, and finding him laid out on the carpet, a halo of red surrounding his head. She’d known he had guns – had often felt safer and protected knowing they were within reach – but somehow, she had never considered their potential use for self-destruction. Now she wished that firearms had never been created.
(If you enjoy personal drama posts, you’ll like this one lol. I’m not going to name the person or blog, as I don’t think that is necessary or constructive, but the whole set of circumstances hurt my feelings and disappointed me and I wanted to vent.)
Ok, so I had this blogger friend. One that I thought of as a close friend and great source of mutual support. Something rare to find in the blogging community. She also blogs about many of the issues I blog about (mental illness, etc.) We encouraged each other consistently and even supported each other outside of WordPress by reading and reviewing each other’s books. I really thought of her as a close blogging/online friend.
Then one day she posted about a medical procedure that I had been told by my psychiatrist was dangerous and could have some serious side effects. I mentioned what I had been advised about the procedure by my doctor in a comment on the post, although I did explain that I certainly was no expert on the subject and wasn’t entirely sure if my doctor gave me completely accurate information and that I would have to investigate the subject further.
Because of me even questioning the safety of the procedure, it seemed like she just cut off all communication with me. I waited a while thinking maybe I hadn’t worded things right and had hurt her feelings or something and wanted to give her time to cool off. However, even though I tried to keep supporting her because I wanted to salvage our friendship, she refused to respond. Eventually I decided to email her and apologize if I had misspoken, hurt her feelings, or offended her as I definitely did NOT have any intention of doing so.
She emailed me back (I do appreciate that, because had she not, I never would have gotten any closure on the whole issue), and told me that since I had “promoted stigmatizing misinformation” that she pretty much blocked me automatically across the board.
So, am I the asshole for thinking this was an overreaction and being very hurt by the blatant rejection of someone I had considered a close blogger friend? How would you feel?
Do you ever stop to wonder if the exploding rates of mental illness might signify that there isn’t a personal issue going on with many people, but instead, a societal or lifestyle issue? The pandemic has shown without a doubt that outside influences can make huge differences in collective mental health. The isolation, the fear of the virus, the missing out on all the things you love to do – these affected us hugely in the past couple years.
Even before the pandemic though, mental illness had been a steadily growing problem. Most of the time the medical establishment treats it all as a personal issue. You must have a chemical imbalance, a mood disorder, or you are doing things wrong and somehow causing your own problems. But what if WE aren’t causing the problem? What if the system is?
In our world, people have become increasingly isolated and lonely, way before the pandemic started. The internet has brought some great things, but it has also made it so that we rely less on real, local community. We were made to be tribal, group animals, but many of us have lost our tribe long ago. Even when we try to build a sense of community, I feel like many of us have no idea how to go about doing that in our disconnected, busy, hustle culture.
We also live in a world where many people are forced to work ridiculous hours at jobs they hate just to survive. And then they barely survive at that. They are swimming in debt and praying nothing major goes wrong between paychecks. Corporations are treated better and are often given more rights than us. We are told to consume and we will feel better, but that only leads to emptiness and more debt.
If you happen to be disabled, like me, you are often made to feel like you are a drain on society and are weak and useless. Depending on the disability, you can become even more isolated and lonely. Many of us have few close family ties to begin with, and frequently, family members and friends eventually end up moving away from each other so they can get a good job and survive.
And don’t even get me started on the corruption, genocide, and other downright criminal activity the government leeches off us to support. Or how we are out of touch with the natural world around us, and even worse, destroying it at a rapid rate.
Maybe it isn’t you. Maybe it isn’t me. Maybe it is all of us, and maybe it is time we make some huge changes.
Lately I’ve really been struggling to blog. I don’t feel enthusiastic or motivated about it. I’m not sure if I’m feeling burnout or what is going on. Have you ever gone through this as a blogger? If so, what did you do? Did you force yourself to keep to your blogging schedule anyway and just trudge through it? Did you take a little vacation? Find some outside way to motivate yourself?
I don’t think it is simply coincidence that this feeling has come at a time that I have been fighting off a deep depression, but I’m not sure if that is all of it. To be fair, it has been hard to motivate myself to do much of anything lately, but writing seems especially tedious right now, and I feel like I have nothing of value to say anyway 😦
I’m really struggling with depression right now and have been for at least a few days. I honestly can’t remember exactly how long it has been because when I’m this depressed, days just run into one another and I don’t even have the motivation or desire to keep track.
I struggle to make myself do anything, but I try. I force myself to do my household chores, force myself to stick to my social media/blogging schedule, and even made myself get out and do things I normally enjoy, hoping it would help, but unfortunately, it hasn’t.
Right now I feel like I don’t care about anything, and I HATE that feeling, because I normally care so much. I really hate having depression/mood disorder/bipolar type 2 – whatever you want to call it. I wish I could just blink out of existence for a while and come back in a better frame of mind. If I was a drug/alcohol kind of girl, I would probably be turning to that for escape, but I guess it is lucky I’m not into that stuff.
My only consolation is knowing that at some point, it will pass, even if it feels right now like it won’t.
Where did I go? I swear I was just right here, feeling fine, but now I look around and I’m nowhere to be seen.
I guess I’ll have to break out the “lost self” posters and nail them to every tree on our block.
If I’m found, I’m afraid there is no reward, but my hungry cats will be most grateful.
This morning I woke up thinking about my online reputation and what I would like it to be. When others read my poetry and personal blog posts (especially the ones having to do with mental illness, autism, or chronic pain/chronic illness) the things I strive to represent are honesty, openness, relatable vulnerability, realistic hope when possible, comforting solidarity, the healing power of sharing our pain, and the courage and inspiration to keep going, even when things feel hopeless.
However, since I myself struggle from mental illness and chronic pain, being transparent and honest means that often my viewpoint comes across as dark and bleak. I don’t try to hide that or tone it down when it happens, because to me, that is part of being honest and vulnerable enough to share what the experience of dealing with those issues is like on a daily basis. Putting a happy face on it would be lying.
My only worry is that sometimes the reality of dealing with daily mental and physical pain is that you can start to sound whiny. Part of me says, “well, of course, you are going to sound whiny now and then if you are in pain all the time! No shit!”, but for some reason our culture makes whining out to be such a negative thing that most of us want to avoid that look at all costs.
Maybe we as readers and audiences have to decide rather we really want full honesty and openness (even if it includes some whining and negativity) or if we pretend to want the truth, but in reality just want a short, scrubbed clean, feel good version of life. I know which I prefer, but I guess everyone has to decide for themselves.
2 days until Christmas, and I don’t think I could feel less festive if I tried. I’m dragging myself through each day, not really wanting to get out of bed or do anything. I’ve tried to break the depressive funk by making myself go to a couple holiday events in the past week, but the deep sadness I feel will not be pushed away or covered for long.
I’m still dealing with a lot of hurt from recent events with my husband, and while we are working on healing and doing therapy, the wounds are deep, especially for a heart like mine that struggles to trust so much in the first place due to a long history of trauma and abuse. Sometimes I despair that I’ll never be able to truly trust again.
My heart aches. My body and mind are worn out. I feel little hope. I wish I could report better things.