Prisoner in My Own Mind

A sensitive subject. A subject that used to be tip-toed around and ignored. Luckily, that's not really the case anymore. It's not the first topic of conversation for everyone, but it's definitely acknowledged more. I guess, because it is a sensitive subject, most people feel awkward and embarrassed to accept and speak about mental health; either personally or in general. I was one of those people. I thought it was something to be ashamed of; that it wasn't normal. I convinced myself it was problem that would go away if I didn't feed it any attention. It did the opposite.

Mental health differs for everyone. We're not all the same, neither is our mental health. Yes, there are shared diagnoses that we have such as: depression, anxiety, PTSD, schizophrenia, bipolar, etc., but that doesn't mean that two people who have the same mental health diagnosis have the same experience(s).

I suffer with depression and anxiety. I know some people look at depression and anxiety as the 'easiest' 'of mental health issues to have. Personally, I can't agree or disagree with it. Depression and anxiety are not easy. They're draining, restrictive, frightening, and require medication like other mental health issues. However, I cannot compare them to the experiences of other mental health conditions such as bipolar or schizophrenia. I haven't experienced them, therefore, can't say which is worse. Each experience of depression and/or anxiety is different for everyone. All as important and serious as each other. Unfortunately, some people refuse to believe in mental health, including invisible illnesses such as Fibromyalgia or MS. If you can't see, its not there. Right?

Wrong.

There's something pretty sad andfrustrating about people with that kind of mindset.

I like to describe my mental health as having the angel and devil living in my mind instead of my shoulders. The angel is me, my voice. The devil is the voice that likes to make surprise visits, no warning or permission. The devil voice is also me, but the me that I prefer to keep hidden. During these times, I remind myself of all my failures, all the times I could have done better by people, all the mistakes I made. I criticise my talents, my hopes, my actions, and my appearance. This voice tells me that I'm ugly, fat, worthless, and would be better off dead. I become suicidal. I have never acted on these suicidal thoughts, but I have been close. I have had to hide paracetamol and sharp objects from myself, make sure they're not near me. That devil I was talking about, that voice, can be very persuasive. It doesn't last for long, but long enough to invite anxiety. On my bad days, anxiety makes me embarrassed by my appearance, my failures, and even my accomplishments. I second guess everything I do, may do, and have ever done. I overthink everything. Every little thing. From things I say, other people say, to what they'rethinking or believe of me. Leaving myself physically and emotionally drained.

Mental health doesn't only affect the individual suffering. It has a domino affect on their relationship with family and friends. I experienced this, as well as my family. When my mental health first started deteriorating, I isolated myself from my family and friends. Cancelled social gathering dates, family outings, and even sitting watching a film with my mum and brothers. Not because I wanted to, but because I fell into such a dark place, I didn't even want my own family to see me. I felt like a burden. I lost friends through my mental health. They didn't ask what was going on and why I was bailing, and I didn't tell them. Guess, in that case, we were all to blame.

Depression and anxiety work together to keep me hostage in my own mind. I become a prisoner in my own house. Not wanting to leave my bed, see anybody, or have anybody see me. It's horrible. It's draining and has held me back from so many opportunities. It's like my mind is so loud and busy with thoughts and opinions, but I feel so numb and lifeless. My mental health has restricted me from so much. Classes, dates, and jobs. For three years I couldn't meet an old school friend who was always there for me, always cared, and still does. Despite the fact I've cancelled on him time and time again. It takes friends like him, family members who are patient and understanding, and a professional support system to get me through those dark days. After a number of visits to the doctor, I was referred to CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy.) Through CBT, I was able to learn ways of coping with the days I was really low and the times I was anxious and suffering from panic attacks.

It's so important to speak out about mental health, to express experiences and thoughts you're having. It's frightening at the time. You feel like no one cares or believes you. It's the complete opposite. There is always someone out there who cares, who wants and needs you around. You're loved and you're important.

Sasha x

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