I’ve really been procrastinating posting because so much has happened in the past year that I feel like I should post about it chronologically but then I have too hard of a time separating those posts and then I quietly close my computer and turn on Netflix instead. So I figured I’d just post about whatever I wanted in whatever order I wanted because I’m running the show here and more importantly- I pay for this domain so I may as well use it, am I right ladies?

ANYWAY, there’s a commercial that’s running on TV about a woman at the doctors office and she’s answering questions about her vagina but not explaining the full amount of pain she’s experiencing. Standing to her side is her “conscious” or someone like that and she’s screaming at her to tell the doctor the truth so she can get the help she needs. Never have I related more to a commercial in my life. Minus the vagina part. I mean maybe that too, but that’s not what this post is about.

I have been feeling really, really shitty lately. I’ve been incredibly hard on myself about things that I shouldn’t be, I can feel myself trying to isolate, and I’ve experienced small episodes of disassociation. However, when I had my phone appointment with my psychiatrist this morning I wore a smile and said “I’m fine, nothing unusual!” Cue my screaming conscious.

I know that I’ve posted about my struggle with the roller coaster that is mental illness before, and I don’t mean to sound redundant, but this is such a huge part of my mental health journey (and again- my blog, my rules.) No one should ever lie to a psychiatrist. Ever. They’re there to help you and quite frankly you are probably paying WAY too much to not take advantage of that. So, why do I find myself in this position over and over again?

I believe a portion of why I don’t share how I’m feeling all the time has to do with guilt, which I have discussed previously. I know that it hurts people to see me not doing my best and I don’t want to hurt anyone. However, I think the biggest contributor to my fibbing is shame. I am a fighter. A badass. A god damn warrior. I spend every single day fighting my demons with every ounce of energy I can muster up. But sometimes I get tired, and sometimes, just like I have learned, my demons learn how to fight back. And that makes me feel so weak. And embarrassed. So weak and embarrassed that I can’t even tell my psychiatrist, who went to school for YEARS to learn that what I’m experiencing should be expected and is normal.

I have always associated the stigma surrounding mental illness to lay in the hands of those lucky enough to not experience it, but I think I participate in it as well. Actually, I’m not sure. If someone came to me and told me everything that I am thinking and feeling I would immediately tell them that it’s normal to take steps backwards sometimes and that it doesn’t make them any less of a badass or whatever. I don’t understand how I can know that my thought process is 100% wrong but still base my life off it. Is this what it’s like to believe the Earth is flat?