This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.
This one got long and I’m leaving it that way, because there’s some really good stuff in here.
It’s been almost a week since I wrote. I can normally tell things are going well when I’m not writing every day.
It’s hard to write when things are just,
I started asking for a word a week or two ago. I asked my therapist, asked in group therapy, asked Wonder Woman. “What’s the word for baseline, midline, “normal”? Not manic, not depressed, just, okay.”
I don’t like using the word normal. I don’t think there is a “normal.” Add to that, having a period when I’m not hypomanic and not depressed certainly isn’t normal for me.
It hasn’t really lasted any significant period, so I wouldn’t classify it as stability.
According to an online medical dictionary, “Euthymia is a normal non-depressed, reasonably positive mood. It is distinguished from hyperthymia, which refers to an extremely happy mood, and dysthymia, which refers to a depressed mood. It is a term used frequently in mental status exams.”
I’m mostly euthymic right now.
My meds are working. Unfortunately I’m on some higher doses and I’m having some shitty side effects, but I’m finding ways to cope with them.
Meanwhile I’m working on some hard shit in partial. I’m digging into some core beliefs about myself that are supremely unhelpful. I’m trying to sort out the process of getting rid of them and replacing them with positive truths. I’m digging into how I’m supposed to do that.
It’s easy to say on the surface, especially when I’m doing well, “I’m not too much,” “I’m not less than,” “I’m good enough,” and ultimately “I’m allowed to be me and I’m wholly lovable as my true self.” But, when there’s an underlying belief that it’s all bullshit, that surface shine falls apart as soon as depression hits.
It becomes a spiral.
Depression makes me question my validity.
And my worthiness.
And my right to the space I take, both physically and emotionally.
And eventually my desire, and even my right to exist.
That’s so hard to look at from the outside.
How do I change it?
Telling myself “I am pretty, I am kind, I am important” is a great place to start. (Side note: I’ve never seen that movie) However, it only goes so far.
I was asked, “What does life look like without those beliefs?” “What does life look like without mental illness?”
This is all I’ve known.
Where does the illness end and I begin? What happens if you take me away from the trauma, away from the chaos, and away from the mental instability?
Who would I be if I were to achieve stability?
I keep saying, that right now it isn’t fair that my brain is being such an asshole. My life is the calmest it’s ever been. My bills are paid, I have lights and food and a stable roof over my head. My house isn’t filled with tension from the latest screaming match, or problems we are avoiding. I’m, in a lot of ways, living my best life right now.
And my brain is more unstable than it’s ever been.
Maybe it doesn’t know what stability should look like.
I mean, it’s not just one thing. It’s also that life is finally calm enough that I can process and heal from all of the trauma, and healing isn’t pretty.
But maybe it’s time to take a long, hard look at what my life would be if it weren’t the only thing I’ve ever known.
And that’s some hard shit.