It's Hard Being a Human

Mental health is no joke.

If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know that I suffer from some of this. I’m fortunate. I recognized. Continue to recognize it. And I’m medicated.

Just the same..

It rears it’s head from time to time. Medication doesn’t mean it never flares up. It means the flare ups are few and far between. Lately, it’s been flaring.

It’s tormenting..

To describe it, it’s a constant back and forth from mania to normalcy. It’s the occasional bottled up rage. It’s bottled up because I know it’s irrational. Maybe it’s something that warrants being irritated or even mad. By the time it comes out, it’s full blown rage. It affects me and those around me. Most of the time, it’s my mania plus something that is valid, but the emotion that erupts is not valid.

My best friend tagged me in something. Her intention was the parallel of a list of a disorder and someone else. However, I couldn’t help but notice and wince when I saw the parallel with myself. It hit me in the gut.

Lately…

I’ve had a lot going on. This past year has been a horrible mess. And even though the majority of it has subsided, I guess this is residual?? Is that a thing?

I’m going to make an appointment with my doctor this week. Hopefully I can get in rather quickly.

I’m proud of who I am.

I’m proud of the fact that I’m willing to stand up and fight my demons. Not simply allow my demons to fight me. It makes me cry sometimes, because these are the moments that I curse the fact that my father (not Henry) passed these genes on to me. Though, I know it is no more his fault than it is mine.