Wednesday 24 September 2008

A good day and a terrible day

Yesterday was a contradictory day. I had a good day at work even though, as per normal I was anxious about it and then just before I left I tried to sort out a problem with someone who is being very rude. And it was like trying to speak to a tree. No not a tree as I love trees. It was like trying to talk to a concrete bypass - one of those slashed through the middle of a lovely area that just sits there unmovable and unhealable and unable to be anything but ugly. The other person was horrible. She told me she hated me. She told me she didn't want to work with me. She said I had 'dropped her in it' at work. She sat with arms crossed and stiff negative body language and said horrible things.

I asked for compromise. I asked that we could work together without the arguing, without the constant bad feeling. But no, she said she did not snap at me, she was not rude it was all me.

And now, as I look back I feel so hurt. This is all about my illness. If I had broken my leg or had a serious operation or anything else I would get sympathy. But no - because my mind broke I am just judged - I am told it is 50/50 because we both have depression. I know in my mind I did nothing to this person - she was just someone I worked with and when I was ill I admit she did not cross my mine. Depression is a serious illness, it is a selfish illness - I admit that but a deliberate illness - no, no, no. No-one would be in the darkness because they wanted to, surely? I didn't want to. I really didn't want to.

And now I don't want to have to listen to this tirade of abuse, this horribleness because I was ill. And the boss just sat there and listened. And do you know why? Because she agreed with it. Because she was allowing her to say it because it is what she wanted to say but couldn't say it. So she used her puppet to be rude and horrible and cruel.

And that is what having a mental illness allows others to do to you. That is what you have to deal with, not just the illness, and the darkness, and the self hate and the paranoia, and the pain, and the distrust of your very thoughts. You have to put up with what others think. Because having a mental illness means you are not perfect, means you can't be trusted to be 'normal' - it means others can speak to you however they want because anything you say in defense will just be 'your illness'. That is what admitting you have depression means.

Today I have to remember the good things. I have to remember that I have many people who love me, that I have friends who have helped me through, that I love my family and my family love me. That I am not a bad person just someone who has a brain that sometimes doesn't behave. Sometimes it is not to be trusted.

I have to remember that each day is beautiful; to wake up; to see the sunshine; to feel the rain; to speak to people I love; (and maybe even to those I don't); to walk on the beach with my beautiful dog; to stroke my lovely cats; to hug my daughter; to tell my daughter I love her; to cuddle up with the man I love; to smell the grass; to see a pile of freshly laudered washing (I know sad but it does it for me); to hear the birds sing; to see my lady smile; to write: to hear and sing along to music; to read a book (good or bad); to smile; to laugh; to care; to love; to be me; to be alive.




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