"Think Something Else" Yeah, Right!

It's been awhile. Honestly, I've been isolating. My mind has been a nightmare of tangled thoughts lately and all I want to do is hide. Not the healthiest thing in the world, but it's better than some of my other coping methods.

Today, however, I feel the need to vent—rage even. See something happened at the wrong time. I tend to avoid my feelings, and they build, and build. . . and, you guessed it, build. Usually they start as anger for what has transpired in my past. Don't let my laid back, mellow exterior fool you, I'm often extremely angry. With good right to be, that's something I'm working on. Allowing myself to feel anger. As I said, usually I let it build and fester until it turns inward and forms into a nice ball of depression.

HOWEVER, there are rare occasions while my internal anger, annoyance, general pissy nature is stewing that someone or something happens that sets me off. Enter rant mode!

My therapist would say this is a good thing, and while it's going to feel really nice to rant right now, I know later I'll be feeling guilty for being bitchy. Anyways, here it goes.

My thoughts are my fault. . . Yep, my mental illness is, and I quote, “In reality is 'your fault'” as someone commented on a post/graphic I shared on Facebook. See this guy's theory is that I think too much, which I'll admit I do, but he seems to believe that my extreme anxiety and depression is my own fault because all I have to do is think of something else. Let new thoughts enter my head.

WOW!!!!

Fucking, WOW!!!

It's so simple, I mean—there it is. The answer to all my problems! The solution to a lifetime of suffering, a way to never have to worry about suicidal thoughts ever again! Just think something else. . . Let it go. Move with the flow of life, man. Note the sarcasm

I get what this person is trying to say, but dude while some people do simply over-think, mental health is more than excessive thoughts. It's more than lingering on one thought or a series of thoughts. I am not in control of what I think! I can not control when my trauma is going to pop up or what daily thing is going to trigger me. That's what my therapy is for, to help me retrain my mind and thought patterns to better deal with my past and the trauma.

Telling someone to go with the flow or think something else when they suffer from mental illness is like telling a deaf person to open their ears. Man what I wouldn't give to snap my fingers and switch my thoughts, fuck if I never entertained that idea.

And telling someone that in reality it is their fault, you just devalued their feelings—their illness. You belittled their experiences, and their illness, you lessened them, and you should be ashamed. By stating this ignorant statement you have said to people struggling with mental illness, “Yeah, it's all in your head. Get over it. Move on” AKA you're feelings don't matter. . . YOU, don't matter.

While that might not have been this person's intended meaning, that's what it comes across as. Hence why we need better education for mental illness. Not to say everyone is going to be as compassionate or understanding about mental illness with education or more awareness. I mean some people are just assholes, but couldn't we show a little acknowledgment and remove ignorant statements from the majority? Sure, with proper education.

Now, I'm going to be posting this reply on the post that originally started my need to write this, and I can see/hear the rebuttal already. Before everyone crucifies me with the, “I'm being too sensitive” here is why the post sets me off.

I was born to a woman who instantly thought of me as her competition. I looked up to my mother, Dani. I worshiped the ground she walked on, all the while she was grooming me to be less than human. To have the thoughts and self-worth of a slave. Since I was young I got backhanded compliments such as, “yay you finished a drawing, it would look so much better if you stayed in the lines. Oh well, this is the best you can do.” Up to the point I graduated college with a BS, “I'm so proud of my daughter. I could never do online schooling. I get too distracted by a dirty house, I would have to clean it. Not Jackie. She is focused on her work.”

At one point in my life the formality of covering the insults with a compliment stopped. There were days Dani yelled at me straight with things like, “How stupid are you? Why can't you do anything right? You're fucking lesbian, aren't you? Worthless? Pathetic? Druggy, alcoholic, lazy. . . ” The list goes on.

By the time I was able to work up the courage, mainly borrowing if from my husband, to go to therapy I felt like pond scum. That is not an exaggeration. I hated myself, I still hate myself most of the time. I feel as if I have no right to be angry, upset or hurt by the fact Dani abused me—tore me down, and let her boyfriends' use me for their sexual pleasure, while she turned a blind eye. My upbringing is nothing short of a crime documentary in the making. How I didn't end up a mass murderer or serial killer I'll never know.

I have been trained, by Dani, to not acknowledge or value my own emotions. I don't feel validated in feeling things, in fact I often try to avoid feeling all together that way I'm not internally conflicted about whether or not I should or shouldn't be feeling something. However; through therapy I'm slowly learning to come to terms with my emotions, and feeling validated with them.

So when some ignorant ass says something that devalues my illness—my new found beliefs—and things I'm trying to get my brain to understand are real. It pisses me the hell off. Seriously, I'm pissed off.

In no fucking way is my mental illness my fault, I can't just think a new thought because evil people—awful people—a woman that was suppose to love and care for me put nasty, unhealthy, and sick thoughts into my head. They were drilled into me over and over again, beaten into my skull daily to make sure I never rose above anything more than being a helpless child.

Go with the flow of life, you say?

If I went with the flow of my life I would be dead, JOE! DEAD!

I would have taken my life after my step-father first laid his hands on me, instead of eating the doughnut shaped like a man he bought me. I would have driven my car off a bridge on my way to class the morning I heard my mom fucking the man that sexually assaulted me. And two months ago, if I went with the flow of life I would taken all my pills and ended my suffering. Because every statistic—mental health professional—therapist I've seen has said the same thing, “It's remarkable you're doing as well as you are. You should be dead (suicide) or a have an addiction problem.”

Not all of us can have a supportive family and friends, not all of us are as lucky as you, Joe. So the next time you open your fucking mouth, open that closed mind of yours first and do some research.

That was suppose to be the end of my post, but I need to address something else. Joe thinks thinking of something else will make it better. In other words, avoiding the subject/bad thoughts. Yeah, I did that for years. I hide and ran from my past and trauma. You know what happened?

October 2012 my husband came home from work. The house was a mess, pictures and my old artwork thrown all over the place. Pictures were burned and cute apart. Empty bottles of wine, and beer and there I was. Passed out on our bed, drunk to fuck with my left forearm mangled to hell. Carved, burned, and bleeding. He was lucky he didn't find me dead that day. That's what ignoring the problem does. It allows all those nasty thoughts to pile up until one day the pile topples over.

Everything comes crashing down, and recovering from it. . . well, it's taken me years. So while Joe seems to think smiling, laughing, and moving on with life is the best medicine for mental illness. I know for a fact, avoidance can be far more dangerous, and in some causes deadly.

So, Joe. You can take your overly positive avoidance personality disorder and shove it. Because some of us only get to live in the darkest depravity humanity has to offer.

#MenatlHealthAwareness #Ignorance #Compassion #Education #ItsNotYourFault

~Jax~