I have not been looking forward to this particular Concerned Blogger‘s post for some time now. Secretly dreading the day when none of the other participants had a ’cause’ they wanted broadcast out into the Second Life world… here we go.
This isn’t a coming out party in the wonderful sexuality sense. It’s more coming to face my fears of being labeled. I loath labeling and have felt the wrath of it on my brain for years. Even my ex-bosses 10-year-old kid has called me names because I am…quite plainly…different.
I’m not crazy. I’m not a weirdo. I’m not a cry baby.
I am an introverted, socially shy at times, sensitive woman…when the mood strikes me. I also have been diagnosed with Major Chronic Depression. The big D. My illness can be quite severe at times, so much so that I must regulate my interactions from day-to-day with people. I must always be cognizant of my surroundings and mindful of not letting my triggers get the best of me. The fastidious attention the illness demands can be so draining, which causes most of its patients to sleep. Sleep is the best refuge for the weary, and it was definitely mine during the worst of it.
In the past 8 months, I have started going through an intensive therapy program two hours a week, every week. I have corrected my diet, exercise, vitamin intake, and done extensive journaling of progress, set backs, and memories from my youth. Luckily, I have been able to look at my brain, body and heart as a full-time job. Allowing myself to fully explore what needs to be done to help my brain process why this depression can be so consuming. No part of this process has been easy, but I can say that when I realize that something no longer triggers me the way it used to – I feel like a rock star. That is what drives me.
Because I completely decided to give myself over to a new way of thinking – my brother calls it “drinking the koolaid” (a reference to the Jonestown massacre) – I am no longer ashamed of my body. I walk around in my bathing suit at ease when we are at the lake in front of anyone.
I eat mostly organic foods, some from my own garden, which has stopped all my tummy issues. No more bad pooping and laying in bed all day with horrible stomach aches.
Lastly, I have given up caffeine which has totally changed my life. I no longer have horrible boob pain from fibrocystic (lumpy) breasts. I don’t shake with anxiety and I certainly don’t miss the crutch it provided. If I am tired, I simply lay down and rest.
I realize not everyone can devote this time and energy to this process. I’m just telling my story in hopes that one day, if you have the opportunity, you might consider looking into this. Just because we have this illness, doesn’t mean we have live a life in shame. Fuck them with their fucking labels. Let them learn that opening your heart and seeing the good inside is what matters.
Labels are for cleaning instructions on clothing, not for people.
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