pull the stars from the skies.
Sometimes, in more melancholy moods, I look over my life - both over the years that have already passed and ahead to the years that are yet to come - and all I can see is an endless stream of doctors, psychiatrists, hospitals and medication. Everything I see, read or hear about mental illness doesn’t seem to hold true for me. When depression is discussed, the public are led to believe that it is easy to treat and that it is surmountable. Yet it is not like that for me - the depression I feel is not that easy to treat and it is unlikely that it will ever be surmountable. I don’t have a clean bill of health to look forward to - it will always be the same for me. I will always have to take medication, I will always have bouts of alternating extreme highs and lows, and there are more than likely more hospital visits ahead for me. Things will never be quite right, quite normal, quite balanced. This illness will always be a big influence, have a big effect on my life. I will never be free of this.
The mental illness is a place that I will never be able to let anyone into. Like an addiction, no matter how much explaining and vocalising I do, nobody will truly know what it is like for me. They wil never completely understand. There will always be a part of me that will always be a pain that I can’t share. When I am depressed, I shut people out, I reject them and I push them away. That does not make it easy for relationships.
So, just what is my problem? I wish I knew. None of my psychiatrists or nurses, or anyone else in my life for that matter (least of all me), seem to be able to figure it out. Yet still I am the way I am and I still feel the way I feel. What is left out there for me? Is this it?
The mental illness is a place that I will never be able to let anyone into. Like an addiction, no matter how much explaining and vocalising I do, nobody will truly know what it is like for me. They wil never completely understand. There will always be a part of me that will always be a pain that I can’t share. When I am depressed, I shut people out, I reject them and I push them away. That does not make it easy for relationships.
So, just what is my problem? I wish I knew. None of my psychiatrists or nurses, or anyone else in my life for that matter (least of all me), seem to be able to figure it out. Yet still I am the way I am and I still feel the way I feel. What is left out there for me? Is this it?