Yeah, I should have posted this during mental health awareness month. Blame the depression.
How’s it going, everyone? Long time, no words.
I’m hoping my tumblr is going to finally see a bit of action in the coming weeks! We’ve been dealing in house with a mental health issue which has been coming along for a couple of years now, but which the pandemic made five times worse and more complicated, like it did most things... I’m talking the kind of mental health issue where I now know which of the nearest hospitals has a 24 hour suicide hold facility, though thank the universe we’ve not needed it yet and hopefully never will...
The stress of it all found its way into my own foundations where it caused a crack, as happens. As happens a lot. One in five adults in our countries live with a mental health issue, while almost half the population will at some point in their life experience it at least once. The last few months haven’t been pretty, but I did the hard thing, and the necessary thing: I got help. This is something that doesn’t happen enough because despite the statistics I mentioned above, there is still too much stigma attached to mental illness. I’m not weak for having cracked under the pressure (I tell my own demons and also some of my boneheaded nearest and dearest), I am simply human. Some people are mentally stronger than others, in the same way some have genes that can make them more resistant to cancer; it’s a good thing to have, sure, but it’s not actually a testament to character, it’s just something they’re born with and have perhaps enhanced with clean living and exercise. Having snapped under some serious pressure is not a shame, it’s just a facet of who I am, as is the compassion and empathy which helped the other person in our family work their way through the crap life throws at us - and I would do it all again in a heartbeat. And since we need to seriously destigmatize this shit, my newfound greeting to friends and family has currently become, “hi there, I’m under anti-depressants! Yup, doing fine. So, how’s it going on your end?”
Anyhoo, I am finally pulling myself out from the sarcophagus Ive been living in since shortly after Christmas, and I even feel like writing again. I’m going to start challenging that blank page again soon, and at this point, between the surges of life-long anger, happiness that everyone in the family is doing better, and the drugs, who the fuck knows what will come out the other end?
(By a happy coincidence, $ficfacers is about to start its auction tomorrow, and I’m hoping for a bid that will give me a prompt and a kick in the pants to start writing, all for a good cause.)
Long time, no words, and the motto of this tumblr is ‘I love words’, so that’s not been a good sign... That’s what depression and anxiety do, they rob you of your words and isolate you. Just be sure that the one word they don’t strip from you is ‘help’, because it’s your sword and shield, and there is no shame attached to that word, whatever your demons or some people may insinuate. There’s nothing wrong with you fundamentally. You’ll be alright. Find the person you need to find and say the word, ‘Help’. It gets better, I promise.
Long time, no words, but that’s going to change.
