Long overdue - but a short one
Coming to discover that after you've convinced yourself that something is not possible, indeed actually is...well that's a feeling that cannot be paralleled in any sense or form. The complexities of the human mind, in addition to those of the heart, I doubt will ever truly be explained to a point of no dispute. There will never be any definitive position on any one person than that of their own. But it is within all human nature to push ourselves to limits, to break those same limits just so that we can say we did.
For the better part of my life, I've been told alike from friends, family, teachers...even my own doctor at one point that I would not ever be able to accomplish the "unreasonable" goals that I had set for myself. I suppose at the time the argument was that of a valid point. Taking in consideration all different areas and thus the composition of those areas in my life at that time, it would be quite easy to imagine that my odds of succeeding were far lower than the average case. It's easier for people to believe a reoccurrence of what science and "the past" has shown them, then to witness something new. And even when this "remarkable" 180 degree turn does decide to grace the minds of those who had never thought it likely, it would rather be spouted off that it was merely a "special case"
The goals that I had set out in my life were, like most people's, modest enough. I didn't crave money, or a big house, fast cars, etc...just security and peace. Growing up in today's world I now realize that I could have easily given up and used the illness that plagues me everyday as an excuse. With depression and anxiety being misdiagnosed and also the frequency of it in the past ten years, there are few who would have said my giving up was a result of not trying, but rather because I was genetically incapable. Looking back, there were times where I did simply consider never going to school, work, or anything of that sort of responsibility, and commence living my life through government checks as many people like myself (in relation to mental illness) do.
I don't know exactly what stopped me from doing that. I'd like to think it was my strength and stubbornness to not give in. I've always remained adamant in the fact that if the disease I have is in my mind, then I could fix it using my mind. Of course when all conventional medicine and scientific opinions state that a chemical imbalance cannot be corrected, but instead "evened out", I was discouraged in my quest. How can one use their mind to overcome obstacles that the mind itself was presenting you with? I will not lie and say that I have never, nor do I take medication, because I did, and still do. It is a large accomplishment for me however to be able to say that in the past six months I have more than halved the amount that I take...a feat that I couldn't do in the past six years.
Does that mean I'm better? Does it mean that I can finally be classified as normal - in strictly the biological way? No, certainly not. I can remember days where I wanted to be "normal" so badly, and that the constant haunting of uncertainty and anxiety would just disappear. That the largest problem I would encounter in the run of a day, was whether or not my socks matched my pants. The problem, as it has now become very clear to me, was the entire time I was wishing for the normal life of a teenager, I was actually living one that I consider to be much more interesting. I didn't know it at the time obviously, because the sole thought that had occupied my mind for the past six years, was that of becoming normal. This thought, wish, dream and hope was something that instead of helping me reach goals, inhibited my ability further. I honestly believe that the best thing I ever did for myself was accept what I had, rather than wish I didn't.
That in mind...after 19 years I have a job that gives me a paycheck. I have, and always will consider my counseling a job. It was something that I did for many years, and though I never asked a penny of anyone, I treated the job I did as serious as any person who works out of an office. So I don't know why it was such a feeling of overwhelmed accomplishment, fear, happiness, etc etc when my boss handed me my first ever paycheck. I remember the moment completely...as my boss is a very good friend of mine, he knew that this was a big deal. In fact his exact words were "Now don't get all emotional on me"
I didn't...well, not as much as I thought I would. But when he handed me that envelope, something that so many people see as common, a flash of thoughts went through my head. Out of control speeding thoughts with no order..."I have co-workers" "I'm holding a paycheck with my name on it" "I have a boss" "I did what everyone said I couldn't" "I made it" "Should I save this, or should I blow it?" (Like I said, about a million thoughts) It was a feeling that I am positive was a once in a lifetime sort of thing. Just because I cannot imagine ever feeling that...relieved ever again.
The word relieved is probably not the best that I could have chosen from the some odd five hundred thousand words in the english language...but in addition to the accomplishment and joy, I felt relief. Relief that what I had been working for in the past six years was not in vain, relief that I could live a life despite being technically handicapped, relief that I could get up in the morning, and cry and smile at the same time...much as I am doing as I write this, because I looked at my life, my illness, and all those people who said I couldn't make it and screamed "fuck you!"
Of course this is now making me begin to wonder just exactly what else I'm capable of. For the first time in forever I'm not hesitant to try anything new, to say "sure, that's great let's do it!" and not second guess what I had just gotten myself into. It's a wonderful, and very dangerous thing to feel as though I'm invincible, but it is exactly how I feel. I look back at the blood, sweat, tears, the crawling, the moments of fatigue, the times when I gave up...and to look at those and know I overcame every single semblance of each one, it's hard NOT to feel as though I could do anything.
I could easily ramble on about this for countless pages, but I think the most efficient and effective way of summing up the entire last three months: Exception that disproves the rule? Fuck rules, fuck exceptions, live.
P.S. To those responses that I had from my previous entry, I would like to acknowledge those who posted under the ever-clever name of "Anonymous". Until your spine has calcified enough for you to stand up straight, look me in the eye and say the things you chose to write, don't waste my time.
For the better part of my life, I've been told alike from friends, family, teachers...even my own doctor at one point that I would not ever be able to accomplish the "unreasonable" goals that I had set for myself. I suppose at the time the argument was that of a valid point. Taking in consideration all different areas and thus the composition of those areas in my life at that time, it would be quite easy to imagine that my odds of succeeding were far lower than the average case. It's easier for people to believe a reoccurrence of what science and "the past" has shown them, then to witness something new. And even when this "remarkable" 180 degree turn does decide to grace the minds of those who had never thought it likely, it would rather be spouted off that it was merely a "special case"
The goals that I had set out in my life were, like most people's, modest enough. I didn't crave money, or a big house, fast cars, etc...just security and peace. Growing up in today's world I now realize that I could have easily given up and used the illness that plagues me everyday as an excuse. With depression and anxiety being misdiagnosed and also the frequency of it in the past ten years, there are few who would have said my giving up was a result of not trying, but rather because I was genetically incapable. Looking back, there were times where I did simply consider never going to school, work, or anything of that sort of responsibility, and commence living my life through government checks as many people like myself (in relation to mental illness) do.
I don't know exactly what stopped me from doing that. I'd like to think it was my strength and stubbornness to not give in. I've always remained adamant in the fact that if the disease I have is in my mind, then I could fix it using my mind. Of course when all conventional medicine and scientific opinions state that a chemical imbalance cannot be corrected, but instead "evened out", I was discouraged in my quest. How can one use their mind to overcome obstacles that the mind itself was presenting you with? I will not lie and say that I have never, nor do I take medication, because I did, and still do. It is a large accomplishment for me however to be able to say that in the past six months I have more than halved the amount that I take...a feat that I couldn't do in the past six years.
Does that mean I'm better? Does it mean that I can finally be classified as normal - in strictly the biological way? No, certainly not. I can remember days where I wanted to be "normal" so badly, and that the constant haunting of uncertainty and anxiety would just disappear. That the largest problem I would encounter in the run of a day, was whether or not my socks matched my pants. The problem, as it has now become very clear to me, was the entire time I was wishing for the normal life of a teenager, I was actually living one that I consider to be much more interesting. I didn't know it at the time obviously, because the sole thought that had occupied my mind for the past six years, was that of becoming normal. This thought, wish, dream and hope was something that instead of helping me reach goals, inhibited my ability further. I honestly believe that the best thing I ever did for myself was accept what I had, rather than wish I didn't.
That in mind...after 19 years I have a job that gives me a paycheck. I have, and always will consider my counseling a job. It was something that I did for many years, and though I never asked a penny of anyone, I treated the job I did as serious as any person who works out of an office. So I don't know why it was such a feeling of overwhelmed accomplishment, fear, happiness, etc etc when my boss handed me my first ever paycheck. I remember the moment completely...as my boss is a very good friend of mine, he knew that this was a big deal. In fact his exact words were "Now don't get all emotional on me"
I didn't...well, not as much as I thought I would. But when he handed me that envelope, something that so many people see as common, a flash of thoughts went through my head. Out of control speeding thoughts with no order..."I have co-workers" "I'm holding a paycheck with my name on it" "I have a boss" "I did what everyone said I couldn't" "I made it" "Should I save this, or should I blow it?" (Like I said, about a million thoughts) It was a feeling that I am positive was a once in a lifetime sort of thing. Just because I cannot imagine ever feeling that...relieved ever again.
The word relieved is probably not the best that I could have chosen from the some odd five hundred thousand words in the english language...but in addition to the accomplishment and joy, I felt relief. Relief that what I had been working for in the past six years was not in vain, relief that I could live a life despite being technically handicapped, relief that I could get up in the morning, and cry and smile at the same time...much as I am doing as I write this, because I looked at my life, my illness, and all those people who said I couldn't make it and screamed "fuck you!"
Of course this is now making me begin to wonder just exactly what else I'm capable of. For the first time in forever I'm not hesitant to try anything new, to say "sure, that's great let's do it!" and not second guess what I had just gotten myself into. It's a wonderful, and very dangerous thing to feel as though I'm invincible, but it is exactly how I feel. I look back at the blood, sweat, tears, the crawling, the moments of fatigue, the times when I gave up...and to look at those and know I overcame every single semblance of each one, it's hard NOT to feel as though I could do anything.
I could easily ramble on about this for countless pages, but I think the most efficient and effective way of summing up the entire last three months: Exception that disproves the rule? Fuck rules, fuck exceptions, live.
P.S. To those responses that I had from my previous entry, I would like to acknowledge those who posted under the ever-clever name of "Anonymous". Until your spine has calcified enough for you to stand up straight, look me in the eye and say the things you chose to write, don't waste my time.