Last Day for Shoes

Yep, I think I did it again ... came up with another cool band name. "Last Day for Shoes. Opening up for the Foo Fighters this Fall!" Okay, maybe not so much. Foo Fighters would have been an incredible concert though!

So it's been five years now since mental illness made it's big debut in my life. Early February is always such a treat reminding me of that great fact. Severe Depression, Severe Anxiety, OCD and PTSD is what I've been diagnosed with. PTSD? Isn't that for military folks only? That was my thought too, but I can tell you from cruel experience that its not. I usually keep that diagnosis close to the chest, because I feel like such a putz for having it. Thankfully those episodes are far and few between now. OCD is a merciless monster. Imagine being terrified of hugging your kids when they come home from school because of the countless germs that are on them. Imagine using a towel to turn off the faucet after you wash your hands. I mean you turn it on with your dirty hands, wash your hands and then turn the dirty faucet off with your clean hands ... I'm just saying! Imagine fighting to convince yourself that when you leave the house it's not going to catch on fire because of something you left on or did. Just to name a few here.

Well, five years has brought countless learning moments. As the time goes on and you're still fighting mental illness you see people start to think that you aren't doing enough and need more treatment. Especially those that are far away in miles or relationship. How does one get to make that call when they really have no idea what is the whole truth? Can I tell you how hearing "more treatment" is a kick to the gut! All that one has fought for, all the hell and dark demons one looks in the eye and keeps fighting simply goes poof. What you're doing isn't good enough. Great. Thanks! As the time goes on people turn more into the "fix it" mode than loving, caring and listening. Don't they know that as the "fix it" gear gets kicked in that the comfort of opening up is gone. It gets to the point that the only person that you can trust is your psychologist and he gets paid to do that. As the time goes on you can see how your loved ones are getting worn down by your inability of "doing your part." That being a blessing turns more into a burden. That knowing that the moments of not knowing how much more of this can be handled is growing ... hearing it verbally solidifies the burden knowledge with complete clarity. As time goes on, the principle of "they don't know what to do so they don't do anything" grows to all you know. You find that those that are "dealing" with you get more comfort and support than the one that is fighting mental illness. As time goes by, you find that when you are on your own for hours, a day or days that when the morning comes and you begin to put on your shoes, you may wonder if that is the last day you put on shoes ... if the beast will win.

I can promise that there are countless people that feel this way. I am more verbal about it, but so many aren't and suffer without anyone knowing it. Fight for them! Love them! Don't be part of the plethora of people that don't do anything because they don't know what to do. Don't be part of the group that thinks everything will just be okay. Fight for them!! Fight for them!!