The past few months... ok year... ok couple of years... have been plagued by the question "Are you ok?" in my world. I smile, I nod, I say "yes"... the asker smiles, nods and moves on with their life. A simple exchange that no one thinks twice about. Well except me, I think about it twice, three times, at night, the next day... It haunts me. A little question in passing meant as an expression of caring and a show of support and I hate it. Not because it was asked but because I answer it every. fucking. time. with a lie.
I am not ok.
I havn't been "ok" in a very long time. Its true, I have moments of absolute joy. Days, weeks where I am blissfully happy or at least blissfully unaware and completely able to function. I smile, I laugh, I go out and enjoy life. Hell I hold hands with people who arn't ok and tell them how amazing life can be and that they are such a beautiful and special part of what makes this world awesome. My reality is a much darker one. My rose coloured glasses have long since turned grey and my rainbows are a monochromatic wasteland.
I have severe clinical depression.
The kind of depression that doesn't ever go away. A disease that can be managed but not cured. Diagnosed when I was just a child, I've spent basically 2/3s of my 27 years in a depressive hell. Medication, hospitals and scars have plagued my life. Like anyone, at times my depression has been situational, but most of the time it actually is a chemical imbalance in my brain. I also have a severe anxiety disorder. The combination of these two mental health diseases makes my life a constant struggle. Add to that my history in general and you're left with a shell of a human being.
Some people see me as a whiner. Someone who bitches and moans constantly, an attention seeker, an annoyance. In truth I probably am those things at least some of the time, but I also don't know any differently. I don't know how to just be. My brain doesn't allow it. It also contributes to the creation of more problems in my world.
I don't know how to focus, I can't keep a job, I hoard.
I don't sleep properly, I drink too much, I'm easily angered/upset/annoyed.
In the past i've had addiction issues, promiscuity issues and have been known to self harm.
Even as a write this my focused, understandable writings are losing steam. I want to scream, and cry, and throw things, and pour a stiff drink, and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes, and bleed just as proof that I am as human as the people I see every day. My body is starting a revolt against my mind. Headaches, vomiting, body pain, all my body's way of covering up mental pain with physical pain. My body is trying to self-preserve by destroying itself.
So why the fuck am I telling people all this? Its not exactly shit that endears me to people and makes people want to be around me. If anything it makes people give me "the look" and walk away, you know "the look". The one of pity and disgust Im sure we've all seen in some capacity.
Well I'm telling people this because the silver lining in my grey world is becoming tarnished and Im starting to lose my grip. I don't honestly know what the next little bit of my life is going to be like.
What I do know is that my stress levels are through the roof. In fact I just threw a phone across my apartment and into a wall. A sure sign of mental stability and wonderful coping skills.
So there it is folks. In black and white. I am melting down but I'm fucking trying dammit and I don't know how to be any different. And to paraphrase the late Ms. Monroe, If you cant fucking handle me at my worst, you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.
(Just FYI...I've spent today trying to research parents with depression. Tried to find information on coping techniques, new ways to operate, anything... You know what I've found? That everyone is concerned about the children and no one really gives a rats ass about the parents beyond the fact that their horrible mental state is damaging their children. Gee thanks doctors and scientists of the world, don't help us try and get better just keep telling us were failing.)