Sunday, December 11, 2016

December 11, 2016: What it's Like Living in the Dark

I live in the dark…
I am one who lives in the closet about my condition… Not because I am unaware… But because I cannot find help. I cannot find understanding. I walk this earth and feel like I am walking to my death.
I am not “crazy”.
I am not a danger.
We are one soul, one being… And all we want is to be ourselves.
To not be ignored because I can’t talk.
T-To n-not b-be s-s-cared…
To be happy
To be safe
To be left the hell alone by those we wish not to interact with.
Ta not be judged cuz we ain’t wired like “normal” people
For the world to know and empathize.

We want empathy. We want understanding. I don’t need my mental acuity questioned. I already know I’m different. I am aware that my mind is viewed as shattered by the rest of the world. I do not want your pity, your scorn.
But it is not just DID that we keep behind closed doors.
It is the PTSD, the anxiety, the depression… The constant, chronic fatigue. The massive headaches that quickly turn to migraines. The light sensitivity that can easily blind us. The overwhelming pain of the depression and anxiety telling us we will never measure up. That we can’t do this or that, when the world expects us to. When the people around us look at us like we are trash, condemning us for something we try our hardest to fight.

Mental illness is not something we chose so happily to bear. Our body goes haywire at the slightest touch or noise. Our anxiety makes us abhore most close contact, our childhood makes us abhore being around people in general.
I am not standoffish. Aloof yes, but put yourself in my shoes:
I grew up with domestic violence in the house.
I was abused in many ways.
I was a ward of the state, a foster child, and bounced from home to home.
My anxiety makes my body go haywire, my depression drains the life out of me. My empathic abilities mean I am constantly bombarded by the feelings and energy of others, and when I’m in a crowd not only is that worse, but so is my anxiety.
I have panic attacks that are never obvious- I have learned to hide them.
My senses are overactive, my nose, my ears my sense of taste and touch. My physical sight might be off but I see much more than you think.
I am Legion, for we are many… But I am just like you. I want peace, I want to live a life that is as normal as possible. The members of my clan are individuals too, and should be treated as such.
But we are not, because the world fears the unknown, and instead of using their compassion, all we get is judgement and scorn, which makes things far worse.
The world turns around you, one who is “normal”, one who is “mentally whole”. For us, for people like me, the world is against us.
We are not broken, we are not “crazy”, we are not dangerous. We are fighters, survivors of some of the worst things imaginable. We did not ask for this. We did not want this. This is not something that will magically disappear. This is our normal, how we survived and fought to live another day. We are moms and dads, aunts and uncles, children or adults. We are white, black, Native American, Russian or Japanese.
We have PTSD, Bipolar Disorder, we can even also be Schizophrenic and depressed. We can be blind, deaf or wheelchair bound.
We are still human. And we deserve compassion and love, not pity, judgement and scorn.