I grew up in a split level home, which brought all sorts of possibilities for a mischievous young lad and his siblings. My personal favorite were the stairs, both sets gave limitless enjoyment. Now my mom was a teacher and she had tons of boxes ... some empty, some half-full and some filled up all the way. There was a time when we took great pleasure setting up empty boxes on the stairs creating a wall. We also had beds and couches, so if we weren't feeling too adventurous we would either put a mattress or couch cushions at the bottom of the stairs hoping to prevent any injuries ... like that really worked anyway. There were all sorts of different sizes of boxes so it took some time to set up the wall correctly so it wouldn't fall over on its own. If you wanted the full blown box wall destroying experience, you would take the time necessary to put the correct size of box in the right place. When the wall was ready, I wouldn't even take a deep breath to prepare myself, I would jump at the soonest moment possible experiencing joy, triumph, bliss and of course a little pain here and there.
When given a task or assignment to do, I would attack it and strive to get it done even if it meant I had to do it myself. In fact, I usually liked to do it myself ... that way it could be done "my way." Even as a sickness or different health issues came into my life I would attack them the best I could to overcome them, even if it meant following doc's orders completely.
When depression and anxiety entered my life and I finally began recognizing something was off, I began to see a psychologist and psychiatrist. I was eager to follow their instructions so I could attack the illness and get through it quickly. I began to feel frustrated fast. I wanted to do the appropriate actions and be done with it. The hurdle, is that mental illness is so individual and can take time to figure out what to do and even what meds to take. Imagine the frustration fighting a battle when you really don't know what you are fighting. In the midst of all this, the darkness of depression and the weight of anxiety began to have me question everything I did and was, from my relationship with Deity, my wife even to any "hobbies" I thought I enjoyed. I simply mean everything. It was as if my life I had created over the years had been a nicely well built brick wall that fell apart brick by brick. I began the overwhelming task of putting the wall back together examining each brick deciding if I wanted it back in my wall or to chuck it out of my life. I began defining who I really was ... and kind of what I wanted to be. There were some easy decisions like my wife and amazing children. I have learned though that examining some bricks and coming to grips if you are going to keep it or get rid of it can take a LONG TIME ... I mean a long time.
The first big mistake I made building the wall of who I am, was knowing what bricks had been in my wall and liking them and assuming they needed to be in my wall again. In all sickness, illness or health issues I had previously fought, I was working to get back to the "healthy me." I have learned that with mental illness, I am not working to "get back" to who I was. That was a horse pill for me to swallow ... no, not a horse pill, but a huge elephant pill. I liked who I was. I learned though that not only were chemicals calling audibles doing their own thing, but some certain deep beliefs I held may have not been that healthy. I am NOT talking about my beliefs in Deity or His church, but ways I thought I needed to be. I was quite scared and empty as I saw those bricks not work with the wall I was building. Something I had believed my whole life of what I had to be or needed to be and that I enjoyed was not working well with my wall. I tried very hard to have them fit, but as I did so the process of building the wall or defining who I am stopped. I know darkness.
As I have come to grips that I am building a new "me", if you will ... kind of like the million dollar man; I would be called the infinity dollar man by the way ... enough tangents. I have made some good ground on creating the new me. I still struggle with a lot of things of life, but am making headway. I do have some bricks come out of place every now and then, that I have to examine again and usually have to put back and then figure why they fell. The extremely hard part, is when several bricks shift and fall ... bricks that were at the bottom causing a lot if not all bricks to fall down again. Yep, it happens and I don't like it. I know darkness. Yet, I sit back down amongst the piles and piles of bricks and pick them up again and start all over. The good news is that I can and I'm getting better at it. Putting bricks in the right place is important and is worth the wait just like the wall of boxes. The difference is that I want this wall to stand, for it is who I am.
Hey! I'm Ken. I'm a guy in his late 40's who has been fighting severe depression and anxiety for 8+ years.
I have an enemy named stigma who is not nice! My way of sticking it to him is writing my thoughts and experiences with my mental illness striving to smash down the walls he creates.
Kick back and read away. These are my experiences and mine alone. If you agree, awesome. If you disagree, awesome ... just don't fuel the stigma beast! My desire is that sharing these thoughts offers some help to those that are in the fight as well.
I like the brick analogy. I was thinking more like I've been seeing things through warped glasses or a warped mind. But going through things brick by brick makes much more sense.
ReplyDelete