The sheer amount of courage it took to just breathe was unreal. With shaking hands, devastated, just looking at the carnage that used to be my life. Giving up felt so much easier than just swallowing the pills. Doctors made promises, friends disappeared, and there was just me sitting on the bathroom floor. Just me looking at the wall and wondering what I was supposed to do now. In the beginning, I did it for my kids. I've never wanted to be a hero or a villain. It didn't really matter to me what people thought. People say to me now that I have an amazing story. I just smile and keep walking. I mean let's be honest who the fuck really wants this hell to be their home? Who wants to wake up and toss down pills just to function? I don't. But that's my life. Four pills in the morning, 5 during the day, and 5 before I go to bed. Synthetic neurotransmitters flowing in my blood to make up for the shit my brain won't do on its own. Not to mention the rest of the cocktail that ensures sanity remains.
Mental health gets dismissed or trivialized far more than it should. That leaves the person unsure, and sometimes ashamed of their brain when they shouldn't be. I think a large part of the shame that comes from dealing with a serious mental illness is because no one knows how to handle it. I don't. A lot of times I'm just as thrown by my brain's stupidity as everyone else. I have sat down in a crowded place and just breathed because I was overwhelmed. Trust me you can sit anywhere and people will indeed walk around you. They might give you a dirty look but they will walk around. Ask me how I know, lol. I haven't gotten stepped on. Or yelled at, though I've gotten quite a few shoulder squeezes from people walking by. I think once people get over being judgmental about the people around them like me. Then you can potentially have a really great conversation about it.
I've had more people make shitty remarks both to my face and behind my back than you would ever believe. It amazes me that people are still so willing to be assholes even when they know you. I'm not sure what breeds that kind of spitefulness but it's terrible. It's easy as fuck to be high and mighty when you aren't the one curled up on the floor. It's easy as fuck to be judgmental when you aren't the one carving your pain into your body so the outside matches the inside. It sucks to be that person that people drag. It sucks even more to be the one who keeps slipping down that slippery slope. Sometimes survival takes one person and sometimes it takes a village. But no one does it alone. We like to think we're special and invincible but no one is. What you judge today could be you tomorrow. I think people forget that it could just as easily be them.
But some people don't forget. Those people, they are the ones who give people like me a second chance. Those people read the story you'd rather not tell them and see a worthy human being. They see the potential you forgot you had. They see the person you are and teach you how to be a better person. They love all of the broken parts of you and help you fit them back together. They may not understand what's happened but they care enough to be part of the solution. They don't have to care, they could just walk past, but they don't, and in doing so change your life for the better. I've always tried to be that person for other people. As the round peg that never fit in the square hole. I know what it feels like to look through the keyholes of life unable to unlock the door.
Nobody chooses to implode their life, no one plans to be the broken one. It just happens. I couldn't exactly tell you why my brain decided to do what it did. I have no clue why any of the events unfolded like that. The docs understand but what's done is done. My homework is to read the book The Body Keeps Score. I'll get around to that eventually before the doc yells at me. But for today, I'm going to enjoy a chill day, and just enjoy the quietness in my mind. It's rarely quiet, for whatever reason the hallucinations have been a lot less frequent the last couple of days. Hopefully, they stay that way for a couple more. I know they'll never completely disappear just like my need for meds never will. Does it bother me? Sometimes. Sometimes I just look in the mirror and hang my head. Sometimes I just avoid the mirror because it weighs 5000 pounds and I can't look. I think I'm always going to resent the meds, the hallucinations, and the mental illness. But most of the time I'm at peace with what has become my new normal. I survived every other day that felt like the world was ending. So I can definitely enjoy the days that feel like sunshine.
Second chances aren't a given, so if you are given one, do your very best with it.
I did it for everyone else at first, but now, this time I'm going to do it for me. Because I deserve it.
It costs nothing to be a good person but it means everything to the person receiving it. Sprinkle that shit everywhere.
~Until next time, be good to each other.~