If you want to know what it’s like to have a mental illness, you could ask yourself what it’d be like to trust and doubt your judgement at the same time.
In a sense, you have to be smarter than yourself. Be responsible. But what if you’re still in your 20’s, late or not? Experienced or not? It sure is asking a lot for a mind who conjures up 5 thoughts that all need attention at that exact time.
A mind whom bends shadows and shapes into false objects that never existed and that will never exist again.
All of a sudden you miss doses and appointments and more and more sleep.
“But do you hear voices?” My doctors voice rang through the intercom phone next to him on computer webcam, all covid precaution.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?”
That’s when I start to sweat. My heart pounds out of my chest thinking about enlisting in the war again: the mind games with other mentally-ill strangers, the communal showing off of emotional scars in those workshops, those goddamn no-slip socks.
No, no, I’m not that far under. Not only do I practice mental repose, but I can still function. I’m not that manic yet.
“But I’m more worried about your depression” my doctor chimed in. I guess I have been crying the whole visit.
“But I’m not prone to hurting myself or others”
“It doesn’t matter”
I’m starting my first round of seroquel at home before bed, a mood stabilizer and antipsychotic that makes you really sleepy, so hopefully I’ll start being able to trust in my good mental health again soon.
Sometimes, for certain folks, it takes more work to maintain a status quo, the level everyone else effortlessly skates through life at. Consider yourself blessed for your strengths, no matter how much work it takes. Things could always be worse.