I’m sitting here staring at the pill bottle that has my ‘happy pills’ in them. I forgot to take them last night before I went to bed as per my routine.
This was a really, really bad idea.
While my meds do amazing things for me, the blow back of withdrawal is a complete and utter fucking shit show.
How do I unsubscribe?
The world at large is different, this pandemic is taking it’s toll on everyone in some form or another.
We’re all in this together, or if you live in Quebec: Ca va bien aller.
Except not really. Life is different when you have a mental illness, a loved one passed away that you can’t send off properly because of social distancing, a child/spouse/family member with special needs, maybe you’re a recovering addict.
Comparison is a bitch and this isn’t a matter of ‘who has it worse’.
When the pandemic first hit, it was almost a relief, I could stay at home and basically use the pandemic as an excuse to not really do much at all.
My classes were online, I didn’t have to wear pants, brush my hair and my groceries were picked out for me and I could send my dear hubby off to pick them up. I was good with this, I’m immunocompromised as well and don’t feel like dying anytime soon because some asshole didn’t wear a mask or wash their hands…
Things feel different now somehow.
Maybe because I had a tiny slice of happiness when I managed to ‘get away’ last week from the usual humdrum that has become my life and that was so wholesome, so wonderful and so very carefree and dare I say ‘normal’?
As normal as normal can get in any case.
The reality is, I’m not OK and haven’t been for a while. Just like so many people that I know. I admire those of us who are trying their best to squash the stigma and actually open up about our feelings and talk openly about our mental illnesses and how much things just suck.
Which leads me to this: Comment section Cheerleaders.
Now don’t get me wrong, I was one of those people and in a way I still am. Scrolling through the dumpster fire of covid news, memes and that orange fucktard that the US calls a president; there is a handful of posts about hard truths. Parenting woes, mental illness, everyday frustrations like why is there never any fucking toilet paper anywhere anymore?!?
Such posts are usually followed with helpful suggestions of where to buy said toilet paper (helpful) and no so helpful but meaningful comments. These well meaning comments are usually something along the lines of:
You’ll be fine, just take a walk or my all time favorite: ‘You got this!’
We all want to be supportive of our loved ones and be helpful, show support and perhaps chime in with our own personal experiences about how we can relate. Which is all fine and well, but I feel that people are forgetting one simple thing when they’re being a ‘cheerleader’:
That it’s perfectly OK to not be OK.
