or not…?

I finally got what I wanted. Or so I thought. After that fateful day everything would be perfectly fine and I’d get some pills and I’d have something in hands that will either tell me I’m weird and a sad person or ‘congrats, you’re just a lazy f***er’. Turns out I didn’t get a sheet but let me explain from the start.

The appointment was okay. Though I can honestly say I have never ever felt that uncomfortable in my life sitting in the waiting room waiting for the doctor to call me in. I almost backed out too when I arrived at the corner of the street. For the few minutes I had to wait I felt like doomsday had finally arrived. Like sitting at the dentists waiting for a root canal treatment knowing there’s no anesthesia left for your therapy. You just know it’s gonna hurt like hell but it’s either the treament or even more pain. It was awful.

On the way there I felt shaky like I had just drunk at least 3 litres of coffee – and I have to tell you I can’t even handle a single cup without being annoying as hell to everyone around me – and my eyes were watery, my breaths short. I was so scared. I kept telling myself I would be fine. I could always see another doctor. I could always just get up and leave or tell him in the last second that I didn’t need anything really.

Turned out all my panic was unnecessary. The talk lasted for like 20 minutes but only after five minutes or so he told me I was not seeing ghosts, that it was good I was seeking help and that it was stupid of me to wait this long. I should have come earlier and when I tried to explain why I couldn’t, I felt stupid little tears running down my face. Maybe it was the relief. He took a burden away from me, I had carried for at least six to eight years and when he told me there was no chance I was just imagining it all I felt as light as I never have before. It was also awkward crying in front of him but I’m sure I wasn’t the first patient to do that and certainly not his last either.

Anyway…he couldn’t tell me what exactly was wrong with me. For that he got me another appointment with another good shrink. And now is the time to make a guess when I got it =D …….3…..2…..1….. TWO MONTHS LATER! Again. Patience is indeed a virtue. She’s gonna talk to me for a looong time and make notes and probably even test out my brain to see if it works properly. I’ll be as stressed out as I was with the first appointment – I know that for sure but at least I got what I wanted. Kind of. The Diagnose is there. Only verbally but hey, sometimes it is enough to have someone listen to you for a few minutes, just to hear it’s okay, you’re not stupid, it’s not your fault and you are very brave for getting that far.

He didn’t say it with these exact words but that’s what I interpreted. After all he got me some medication to help me start the day easier, to get more productive and tell me I shouldn’t have waited this long for treatment. To be completely honest though, I feel good enough to not take any medication right now. I do feel stressed out a lot because of work and all but the sunshine helps me get out of bed and through the day so I might wait for the in-depth diagnose and then see what I have to do to finally feel like a normal person again. I hope this is where I can get.

I also can’t believe half a year has passed already again. It feels like yesterday when I wrote that post about the new years eve party. Kinda the same thing happened two weeks ago with a birthday party btw but I might rant about that when I have time. I’m sorry for the lack of updates and my dry and not so special writing but as I said I’m pretty stressed out about work. I’ll get to that later. Just wanted to give you my diagnose since that was what I promised.

Until the next update, take good care!

– signed A

Of masks and wigs

Hey guys.

Just had a fallout with my best friend again. I can’t really talk that long because it’s late already but I couldn’t be more pissed and sad. My last night off before starting work again next week and I had to write texts for three hours literally yelling at my phone and getting really frustrated again… I thought I had learned to live with some stuff but apparently…

God, right now I feel so broken and I hate that. I don’t want to use my mental health as an excuse for everything but fact is, that it – duh – is the reason for many things that happen… Or why I feel a certain way, why I feel uncomfortable with stuff, why I care about things others wouldn’t even give a crap about. I can’t change that. It’s omnipresent and when I really think about it, I hardly use it as an excuse. I don’t even want to talk about it or mention it if I somehow can work around it. But it is there. It’s just that nobody really understands… And trying to make them is a pain in the a**…

Okay, whatever. Well, we are back to…wherever we’ve been before. Back to square one? Almost. I just don’t have the energy to pull through this. I thought about writing her a letter and putting all my frustration in – in a nice way of course, if there even is one. And then I hopefully can be done with it forever.

You see, I know it’s complicated liking someone who’s mental health has a mind of it’s own. And not a good one that is. I know it can be frustrating and weird and scary and awful and rage inducing. But I honestly can say that for whoever has the Mental Health problem: It is far, FAR worse. For every frustation you feel we’ve had twice as much of that crap. Everytime you feel weird about the situation, I guaranteee you we feel soooo much weirder and for that we feel embarrassed and bad for making the situation weird or scary or frustrating or for making you rage. We don’t WANT that. It’s just that if we would be forced to act another way, and hurt ourselves with it… It would end up getting us killed at some point. And no friendship – no matter how uneven it may seem (because sure, the perfectly healthy part will care and do a lot) is worth that. I should NOT be expected to hurt myself so I can please others or be more convenient to be around. There are enough problems as of now and as much as I try not to create anymore… Either let me try work around it so there wont be a problem or accept that I have to do what I have to do so I can feel okay again. So that I don’t feel as crappy anymore.

I know, friends of people with Mental Health problems don’t have it easy but… Think of someone with leukemia. If you’re friends with that person you might not get to spend lots of time together outside. Your friend might have to cancel often on you because she/he feels sick or not good enough. She/he might be down a lot. You have to care for them, bring them stuff, get them presents, a pat on the back, a hug anything to make them feel okay. And if you have to cancel the concert of your favorite band because your friend is not ready to go then of course! You’ll dread it but sure! She/he’s sick. You want to be there for them. You care about them and even if your friendship is a hard, stony one you desperately want to pull through and – in the best cases – won’t expect anything from them in return. Just their time and I smile once in a while.

Maybe you don’t agree with me here (and for some this might seem a little harsh) but for Mental Illness it’s exactly the same for me. Sure, there’s no chemo, no radiation, no nothing. You can’t SEE Mental Illness but it is still THERE. Sure we can walk and talk and smile but our mind might not be as versatile. The things a leukemia patient suffers from bodywise, we have in our brains. And yes. We suffer. You might not be able to see it, we might try to look okay but in the end it all comes down to wearing a mask just like leukemia patients wear a wig.

You would never just ditch your friend because she just had chemo and can’t go to the concert right? You would never yell at her for being sick on your sweater. We can’t get sick on your sweater, we won’t have chemo and be too weak to go outside but holy sh** we have our own fights to fight and it’s never easy. I see it as an huge issue that Mental Illness is still treated differently in society. It is still shushed and gets talked down a lot like it’s nothing because people can’t see it and if a mentally ill person doesn’t WANT you to see it, you probably never will. That doesn’t mean it’s not almost unbearable on some days and not just as deadly as cancer can be. Not that I want to feel the empathy of the entire world. It’s just that a little more understanding wouldn’t hurt. Leukemia or depression. Multiple sklerose or anxiety attacks. We are all still sick. And if you care about sick people you WILL have worries and sorrows. You WILL have a complicated life, time, whatever. You probably WILL have to put more effort in this kind of friendship or love than with one with a healthy person. If it’s the body or the mind that’s giving up… There is no difference. And you shouldn’t make one either.

Anyway, I’m rambling. Still haven’t talked about what actually happened but I really needed to get that off my chest right this second. Or minutes. Or moment. I’ll get back to you all soon and then I honestly feel like I’ve got some explaining to do. Until then…

Have a good day and take care.

– signed A