Mad Pride, you say?
But shit, if it’s pride week for us crazy folks, I may as well come out of the attic.
I have clinical depression.
Please be warned that I’m going to discuss my illness in some detail here. If you have triggers relating to suicidal thoughts, this post is not for you. Read with caution. Thank you.
It’s still kinda weird for me to self-identify as mentally ill. I’ve known for a long time that I’m fucked up, but part of my particular upfuckery is that I automatically discount myself. I think I can’t possibly be legitimately crazy, because legitimately crazy people have a valid excuse for all the fucked-up shit they do and think. Legitimately crazy people aren’t just lazy, don’t just have a poor work ethic, can’t just suck it up and try harder.
Well, fuck that noise. I’m legitimately crazy. I take medication and I manage my sleep schedule and I try as hard as I possibly can not to let myself get away with any self-sabotaging bullshit, and at the end of the day, I can be pretty sure I won’t kill myself anytime in the next six months. I had that down as “the next year”, but on reflection, I don’t think I can trust myself that far.
That is what mental illness means to me: not trusting yourself. Having to fight your own perceptions at every turn. Knowing that the minute nobody’s looking, you’ll start to slide again. Not being able to say with confidence that a year from now you won’t be suicidal again.
How the fuck can I be proud of that?
It’s not about pride in the job-well-done sense, that’s how. It’s about pride in the sense of “hello world, we are here”. I don’t know if this post will help. I don’t know if it will do a damned thing to chip away at the stigma that surrounds mental illness. But I know not posting sure as fuck won’t do shit, and I know that more truth rarely if ever hurts. So here it is.