Meet Zissa, My Personal Demon.

Last month I turned 39 years old and I was hoping things would magically change for the better. Unfortunately, being a step away from 40 has led to MORE self-doubt and insecurities. I feel as awkward as I did at fifteen. Twenty-five-year-old me provides reminders that I have lived fifteen years with a chronic mental illness diagnosis that has always delineated my life. The current version sees how weathered I am and still doesn’t know what the hell I’m doing besides surviving one day at a time. This leaves little time to focus on the future.

Imagine fighting for control of yourself. Imagine having a demon in your mind that never rests and continues to plant seeds while you are desperately trying to destroy the ones that have already taken root. Imagine sometimes wanting to die to stop the madness. Mine is Zissa.

Zissa, tells me that I’ll never accomplish anything worth talking about. She says I’ll never be the smartest person in the room and distorts the images I see in the mirror. She drains my energy, creates paranoia, and facilitates self-sabotage. She often makes me talk too much. When she overpowers me, I feel like I’m running down that endless hallway in Poltergeist. The door at the end is an unattainable place of peace and a cure for the constant fear. But the most disturbing part is I sometimes watch myself destroy the things I want the most because Zissa always manages to make it too difficult to fight back.

*There isn’t a day that goes by without a yearning for normalcy and the desire to be average. *

The last three years were spent trying to remain stable, but Zissa hovers. Do you have any idea how fucking exhausting that is? People say we should be our “authentic self” and I have no idea who that is. For me, that authenticity is riddled with anxiety, ADHD, bipolar disorder, and almost all traits of someone with Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder (shout out to my therapist). My thirties have been dominated with learning these things about myself and trying to exist peacefully. But in most cases...they control me. ZISSA controls me.

That's dramatic, right? It probably sounds like I'm feeling sorry for myself, but I think it's important to share this kind of shit. This is part of living with mental illnesses. We glance over the constant cloud of despair looming and waiting to engulf us. Then that demon becomes immune to the cocktail of medication you spent years creating. Or it starts to destroy other parts of your body. While you’re trying to fix that, she's planting more seeds and adds extra fertilizer to facilitate rapid growth, making her more difficult to control.

Remember there's a difference between "mental health" and "mental illness." I happen to be very high functioning compared to others with similar brain chemistry. People that know me will say I'm sensitive (I am) and easily irritated (I am) but can't understand how much energy I spend regulating my emotions. "Small" things are triggers because I already fought to control myself through the big stuff. This is a direct result of my chronic illness, not just a short fuse.

I’m not in a great place right now and I know others feel this way but can’t express it. Maybe they don’t have the words or fear judgement and rejection from others. Been there, done that. When I share my story, I find that it encourages others to share too. Stories of their own demons, insecurities, addictions, and mental illnesses of many forms. It’s scary at first, but therapeutic to know you’re not the only one.

So, this is for those that feel this way but can’t articulate it. I’m taking it upon myself to speak for all of us because a little support goes a long way. If you’re reading this and share my thoughts, ask for help, go to therapy, seek medication management, dive into your favorite hobby, eat right, and get more exercise. (I'm still working on the last two.) Find a way to keep your Zissa at bay.

If you know someone feeling like this, stop being scared and offer to help or even just listen. I hope you’ll share this with someone who needs it. You might just save one of our lives.

If you find this piece interesting, please consider leaving a ❤️, or even a tip. Your support means a lot to me as a writer! I hope to share more soon.