I'm feeling really healthy these days, and so I tend to think a lot about where I've come from and where I could go next. My Wellbutrin is working really well for now, and my talk therapy is helpful. I'm having really productive conversations with the people I care about and I'm being transparent and unashamed in my journey.
Several people have approached me in various ways over the last year or so to let me know that my transparency in my mental health journey has inspired them in one way or another. There are many people hiding in plain sight who struggle with their mental health every day of their lives, and this is part of why I'm so open about my own journey. I'm not ashamed, and I seek to end the stigma around mental health issues.
Still, I get tripped up when people say they see me as this strong person who's overcome so much. I am strong, and I have overcome a lot, but I don't think people understand how close I am to losing it all pretty much at all times. My brain could self-destruct at any time and make a mess of my life that I might not be able to recovery from, or might not want to recover from.
For those of you who don't know, I'm a survivor of child abuse and the Adult Child of an Alcoholic (ACoA). This is part of why I have severe clinical depression. I've learned to have compassion for my depression. I understand that part of why it developed was to save me from the intense emotions I felt as a helpless child. The problem was, the abuse stopped. My mother stopped drinking. She changed. My brain didn't. It might never change. It stuck around, waiting for the sky to fall again.
Some of these friends who have approached me are survivors of relationship abuse of some kind. I'm pretty convinced I couldn't survive that. I've spent 7 years in therapy clawing my way back from my own experience of abuse. I guess I could do it again but... I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to. Like, no. I'm done. I can't handle one more person who was supposed to love me and protect me betraying me like that again. I won't, and you can't make me. I only have enough motivation for my current fight. I can't be made to do this all over again. Please understand that.
Don't get me wrong, my husband is my husband because he's the safest person I know and that's so important for someone like me. Still, I've worked with abusive relationships in a professional capacity and a majority of those couples say they thought the same way in the beginning and then one day they just changed. It's like the person they loved went away and they started waiting for them to come back, struggling to realize they never would. If I were to be betrayed that way, I'd give up. I'd stop fighting. And you can't make me continue to fight.
When I work with my clients, I always circle back to, "Is there anything you want to do about this? Because the answer can be 'no.'" I'm getting their consent to take them into battle and fight the fight they need to, because it's a painful battle (trust me, I know) and I can't just drag them through it kicking and screaming. That could kill them. Still, as a soldier in this battle I wait with my hand extended saying, "Take my hand and fight with me, damn it! We need you!" but I don't judge if they're not ready or too scared to do it. It hurts. It's natural to run from it. You're allowed to make that choice, but that way holds no growth for you. If you turn around and come this way, you'll gain so much - but you'll also gain pain in the process. Volunteering for pain just to heal is hard. I've done it once. I won't do it again. You can't make me.
Hopefully it will never come to that, and knowing myself as well as I do at this point I can see how circumstances could change and I could decide it's worth fighting again (if I have kids to take care of, for example), but sometimes it's just not fair to ask people to fight a battle they didn't start. I did not abuse myself. I did not injure my brain. Still, I fight. In whatever you guys perceive to be my strength there lies a great vulnerability and danger, but I volunteered for this fight and I'm going to keep going. If I ever lose the battle, please know that I tried my best. It's a damn hard fight, doing war against your own brain chemistry, but god is it worth it.
