I often ponder the words mental illness.
Definition: Mental illness refers to a wide range of mental health conditions — disorders that affect your mood, thinking and behavior.
As I was growing up I began to understand the problems other family members had to face. Aunt Beth had Bipolar, and multiple personality disorder. My own father well clinically depressed and high strung anxiety also alcohol and drug abuse. Uncle Pat compulsive liar who also was an alcoholic and clinically depressed.
Sure they all have been diagnosed in the late 80's early 90's. now in this age they might send you to the mental hospital and keep you under close supervision force pills down your throat. They all also consume medication. Does this medication really help? Are they really even alive if they replace drugs for true emotion. These drugs control their lives now. I have run into a lot of different people over the years. Some seem perfectly peachy and others are a mess. This concerns me.
Over my lifetime I have learned to suppress my feelings. Why? Well because after my parents divorce my father was out of control. I was no longer a daughter, the roll I took on was punching bag, tissue, and only friend in a lonely world. Granted as an 8 year old this is overwhelming to take on. As I mentioned before my father has had a history with alcohol and drug abuse, so as a little girl I would endure long endless nights of drunk sobbing, and rambling from my father listening to him explaining how depressed he was, and how he wanted to end his life really gave me a clear understanding of how mental illness worked. Durring the period of endless drunk nights I came to find out my father was not on medication.
Then when I realized he was in fact taking medication again he had some days where he would just sleep. He rarely wanted to get out of bed and spend time with me and my sister. When he did make an effort his face still looked old. No color pushed to the surface of his cheeks. His eyes did not shine they seemed sunken in now. The walking dead would have been a good description.
I always play around with the words mental illness. I need to keep quiet. I need to be peachy. I put on my makeup and hide behind it. My face is masked. My emotions are masked. My father made a life lasting impression on me. If I can hide how I feel I wont have to make the same horrible impression on anyone else. Is mental illness contiguous? Often more times than not I find people that have some sort of issue. I have to wonder do those types of people just attract to me, like a magnet.
Some days It is worse. That is whatever "it" is, maybe I am mentally ill. I swear I can physically feel it. Would I ever be able to find the words to explain how sensational yet dark it feels? Could I possibly be addicted to this odd feeling? It always starts in my head then moves to my chest. I never feel more alive then in that moment even when the feelings are sad. The feeling of going mad is nothing compared to the feeling of actual sadness though. I understand I feel things differently now than I have early on in my life. I wonder If I could possibly be the only person to feel this way, and I cant even explain it.
It crosses my mind constantly searching for the exact words. The definition of mental illness never suggests that their is a specific feeling of going mad. The definition is trying to suggest that their are many factors that cause theses illnesses but never the actual feeling of being mentally ill. But then again Maybe it's only me that can feel this. Never would I take drugs to stabilize myself into a lifeless zombie. I am addicted to being mad.
Loading comments...